Of drunken ministers and wayward ways

Japanese finance minister has recently resigned due to a gaffe wherein he reportedly appeared drunk at a press conference in Italy. Now that is some feat. It’s probably safer to walk into a cage of lions than to go to a press conference attended by blood thirsty reporters. The minister is probably cursing his luck, c’mon if this was vodka high Yeltsin signing some important decrees giving away resources to oligarchs, he would’ve been hailed a supporter of “Freedom”. Alas he is from Japan, where even if drinking is a huge problem (or a boon – depends on your perspective), general sense of propriety is very high.

Now that brings us to our Matribhoomi. We all know the general sense of propriety is so high that hurling abuses and chairs in parliaments/legislative assemblies are accepted forms of protest. Given the fact that democracy is so nascent and fragile, our means of protest have to be violent “to make the deaf hear”.

Going forward I believe that a reservation system should be enforced for Pehelwans, which will allow both ruling and opposition parties to make a hugely positive impact. See the benefits.
Furniture will be regularly broken – Creating a regular need for wood and carpenters. What better way of increasing public spending in the era of global slowdown
Less Security required for Parliament – With professional pehelwans, terrorists would be scared of attacking.
Younger Parliamentarians – with the need for agile and strong parliamentarians, the old and weak will automatically be culled.

Now I am getting too carried away, coming back to the poor Japanese minister, I believe he has every right to take recourse to some chair hurling at the journalists, which he should however learn from our MLAs. What if he appeared a little drunk and muddled his speech – he didn’t call Afghanistan Iraq like George W. Bush neither did he justify rape as Burlusconi.

Japan should increase bilateral contacts with India whereby while Japanese public may come for some Buddhist pilgrimages their politicians should come for pehelwan commando training to India with a basic course at Orissa assembly and an intensive degree at the UP assembly. Now that is a novel way to make our legislators contribute to the exchequer too…

Khaad - The Trench

Does being married necessarily means we really know the "other" person ? Or are most marriages "of convenience" ? Do we confuse security of marriage with happiness ? And is the identity and ability of a woman still judged by her bearing and rearing capacity.

These are some of the questions which were raised by a Play called "Khaad" or the trench in Bengali. Enacted by a group called Chonnochaara, as part of a Bengali Short Play competition organized by New Delhi Kalibari at the LTG auditorium.

The story is set in a remote hill-station where a seemingly regular couple – Ratri and Kuntal – have gone for a holiday. However, something is amiss. Ratri and Kuntal have nothing to share – their aims, goals and even their “preferences”.

To liven up their lives they play a game of impersonation – something I have never understood is why to invite complications, as if we haven’t had enough trouble with Schizophrenics. And then comes a mysterious stranger – something akin to Garcia Marquez characters whom one cant make out is real or imaginary – who happens to know a lot more about the couple than they themselves. The stranger reveals that our lady is not “capable of bearing children” due to an accident caused by drunken driving by her brother and hence the cause of her frustration and loneliness. At this point of time I was full of sympathy for the husband. Ok I understand the statement – Saari Khudai ek taraf, Joru ka bhai ek taraf – but its something else to bear a lady who is obsessed with child bearing and the poor husband has to listen to her monologues. If I was the playwright I would’ve put a dialogue akin to the one made famous by Amitabh -
“Pehle jaake apne baap ko satao jisne tumhare bhai ko daaro peena sikhaya
Pehle jaake us bhai ko satao jisne daaro peekar gaadi chalayi
Pehle jaake us policewaale ko pakro jisne tumhare bhai ko drunken driving karne diya
Aur tab ....... tab jaake tum mujhe satane aana“
Sadly that was not to be. Instead our mystery man reveals that Kuntal is a bi-sexual and had an affair with the brother of our lady. Now I am ranting. Cmon get hold of this brother Rajat and kill him. This Rajat fellow has had a good time – He drinks and drives, has orgies with this poor guy who must give in to his lust because he needs moolah, and gets his sister married to this guy so that he continues his lustful ways. I mean if this is not just passport to hell, rather passport with H1B stamped on it (I have heard that Hell too has a strict immigration policy these days due to an increased queue of low sin applicants from India)
The thing I loved the most about the play was the last scene. Our lady is sitting alone and the stranger arrives. She probably now knows that this stranger is a ghost (“surreal character” is what the director calls it but lets not split hairs over that) and as she tries to get away, falls into a deep pit (Khaad in Bengali) and dies. Kuntal is relieved, and delivers what must be in the annals of husband-wife relationship a speech that can only be compared to the one given by Martin Luther King for the oppressed black people. A confession par excellence, which shows that husbands are not always mean, lifeless and insensitive – rather their sensitivities lie somewhere else. And while he is celebrating the death, he is not overjoyed but retrospective and while the divide was still there, it was not insurmountable, provided the wife did not lament as much.
Overall a good treatment of a rather sensitive subject - Well the director could have fundamentalists of all hues after his neck.

My suggestions to the director, for Khaad Part II, please get Sallu bhai as an actor and let the story revolve around Kuntal getting a crush on him. Of course Sallu would be more than happy to strip on stage.

New Solution to Deal with Sub-prime problems

Well the news is that our very own Dr. Manmohan Singh has told our (oops !! sorry Mrs. Patil) president Elect Barack Obama that US shouldn't become protective due to the ongoing global economic crisis.

Hey Dr. Singh there is a better and more permanent solution. The source of the crisis was the Sub-prime lending. So how to curtail this kind of bad lending practices especially when there is (rather was) so much liquidity floating around in the market ? The answer is simple, why don't we export some super-prime people to the US. US should increase the H1B quota and import more people from India, China and Russia, especially the nouveau rich who will then go and get intoxicated by the american consumerism and splurge on knick nacks (chinese toys, indian clothes), leading to demand and overall world economic growth.

Of course there will be the american public who will cry hoarse over outsourcing and non-whites (except the Russians) taking over. Well to tide over that, all skilled workers should be exported to India, Russia and China as these are the places where skilled work gets done these days. So these skilled people will now find jobs in these "growth" economies and will prosper. In the meantime the next generation nouveau rich will have outspent their money and again threaten the system. So now its time for these people to have a "growth" economy stint, while the sons and daughters of the hardworking skilled workers should again be sent to the US to fuel the growth. In case you think that this is an unworkable solution, the goverments of middle east such as Dubai etc. already have low tax shopping areas to spur international travellers. All I am asking is that convert US into a vast shopping mall and one generation holiday !!!

There is my thesis for the economics Nobel

The Beast Inside Humans

The title is not original and so aren't the pics. For this I must give credit to a concerned friend who mailed them today. The pictures are gory but they must be circulated.

These images are those of a ritualistic hunt of Pilot Whales called grindadráp in Faroe Islands of Denmark. Organised on a community level the hunters first surround the pilot whales with a wide semi-circle of boats. The boats then drive the pilot whales slowly into a bay or to the bottom of a fjord.

After this the poor mute animals are killed one by one by cutting their dorsal area till the spinal cord. This also cuts off the main arteries and the blood spills out in the ocean turning it into a spectacular red.







Apparently the whaling is an important part of the Faroese social culture, and it makes them feel Faroese.

And this is the supposed to be a part of the "Civilized World". The next time any European seeks to moralize about the Muslim worlds treatment of prisoners under Sharia, (s)he should look in her/his own backyard first and put a stop to BullFighting and Whaling.

Rashu Thanekar leaves for office

Today Rashu was very happy. Though having slept late due to the incessant croaking of the frogs throughout the night, he was fresh in the feeling that the day would be action-packed. Getting up from bed, he tip toed out of the room since waking Sapna up would invite her fearful reproaches.

Brushing was the time when Rashu was the happiest. Looking himself in the mirror with the white foam in his mouth reminded him of his childhood. The time when he could rely on his parents to do everything for him. The time when they would take his decisions and he would just follow. The time when... his reverie was disrupted by constant banging on the door. Oh no... not again..its not kasturi aai again.
Well Kasturi was the family maid cum cook cum proxy mum. To Rashu's leaving for office on time, Kasturi's contribution was enormous. From getting his ironed clothes out to making his breakfast it was Kasturi who worked from 6:30 AM while Sapna slept through. Eversince he moved out of his parents home 2 years ago, it is she who had taken over Rashu's mothers role even with the little chidings for the Bahu's laziness.
But the concern of Rashu was on account of the malfunctioning bell. It had been about 2 months since the bell stopped working necessitating the harsh door boxing by Kasturi aai. It wouldn't have mattered much except that now Sapna would be really mad at him for the morning commotion and his lack of initiative in getting it fixed. Hurrying to open the door he never noticed when some foam fell out and landed itself on the bed. Why was life so unfair to him...
After opening the door and picking up the newspaper he went to the bedroom and was relieved to see Sapna was sleeping heavily. Thus reassured he rushed back to the bathroom to finish his morning ablutions.
News paper reading was the most enjoyable time. Rashu could savour the news while sipping the hot tea Kasturi had prepared. It was also the time to strategize. Today would be important especially because of the appraisals. Radnus and Gaurav had been been lately very quiet and he figured they probably knew that they wouldn't be rated too well. Anyhow it didn't matter as Rashu also knew he was the boss and he could boss around with his team. Like the other day when he asked Sashank to not wear sports shoes. He loved the office especially because he believed he could trick 'them' into believing that he was helping them. How foolish really they were. Again it was Kasturi who disturbed him by handing him over his towel and gently nudging him. It was time for bath.
But, bath made him scared. For as long as he could remember he had an anathema towards water. Water conjured up demons which only his father could rival. However now he was a grown up professional and couldn't afford to show fear. So he quietly went into the bathroom and proceeded to do his daily ritual of washing himself with a wet towel and spalshing a lot of water around. Sapna was still sleeping so after having dressed Rashu ate the bread toast and omelette that Kasturi had prepared. It was only when he had finished polishing his shoes that he heard Sapna hi pitched voice berating Kasturi for some perceived negligence. Hearing the voice put some unintended haste in his actions as he literally ran outside though not forgetting his car keys and the office bag....
..to be continued...

Mumbai or Delhi

As a delhiite (atleast in the positive sense) who has moved to mumbai the following are the pro's and cons of life in mumbai...
Lets start with the pros
1. The city never sleeps - heartening to see people of all walks of life, age and sex hanging around till late at night
2. People dont fight as often. Road rash is less
3. Decent Public transport system - though the trains suck at peak time
4. Good historical places to visit and architecture of the fort area is fascinating

Cons
1. Pathetic roads - bridges are perpetually in the state of construction
2. Property prices - sky rocketing. The brokers are one breed to avoid, they make you feel worse than a beggar

Apart from these haven't spent enough time to compare but yes i definitely miss my friends in delhi :(.