The view from an Island at Sea...

I have recently subscribed to a very thought provoking blog...
The writer has strong views supporting Baba Ramdev's fast... and is elated by the crude justice dealt by a victim to her rapist! The writer is a free artist, devoting herself to a good cause. I love her for the effort and research she puts in, before penning her thoughts!
It was perhaps her article on the demands of Baba Ramdev that got me thinking. Since there was so much I had to ask you, I decided to put it on my own blog rather than a reply to yours. (And being opportunistic; hoping for more traffic for my blog!)
Yes, perhaps thats one thing we share in common. We are blunt and straight forward.
Do you, and perhaps Baba Ramdev, realize that we are living in a quickly shrinking world? Where it sometimes takes less time to travel from Bombay (yes, I still refuse the Mumbai because I like to keep things convenient, not necessarily correct) to Dubai than it would take from Mohd. Ali Road to Dahisar?
You wish to convert our education systems back to Bharatiya languages... One of the most sophisticated Bharatiya languages, Sanskrit, is almost dead amongst the common man. Dont we have State run Govt. Schools that give basic education in the vernacular languages? Dont we have Universities that teach in the 'Bharatiya' languages of Hindi, Tamil, Malyalam... and so on? Why dont we leave it a truely secular country, where you can choose the medium of study, and also the curriculum you study! A state board, or a central, or the IB for those who dream of it! Attend the colleges under Vikram University, Ujjain to study graduation in Hindi.
What you project as 'Swadeshi' looks like a step in the reverse direction! What you project in words, doesn't sound practical at work.
Do you forget that in the late 90's when the world economy was beginning to get global, it was the very fact that there were millions of Indian youth, well qualified and with good communication skills in English who held the edge, and thus Indians were preferred over their equally intelligent and talented neighbors?
I am an engineer working for a foreign company, with non-Indian colleagues. In the past I have worked with Indian companies, Foreign companies with Indian workforce, and with companies situated on both sides of India. Lets face it, We might have taught them how to count, and how to use the Zero. But they have in the last few decades, made the most of our zero's, and climbed the ladder up at a faster pace.
Today, if you want to develop India, you must have the common sense to embrace the technology, learn and understand, innovate and improve, then implement them in India. Not to shun them, and kick start what is 'ancient wisdom'.
The ancient world was just as big as half a continent. You could live and die without travelling as much as what would be today another state! Since you interacted within a limited people, the local languages florished, and all streams of science and art developed in these. However, today, if I am buying a state of the art Japanese machinery, it wouldnt be possible for me to use, as the instructions are in Japanese! No Sir! They have instructions in English and Spanish. For the product to be globally salable.
Yes, we can, and we must have a rural tertiary education system, to enrich the hidden genius. But we also need the Indian who is well versed with international practices... A yogi looks within his body and soul to find the answers he needs... But he must also be friendly and accepting of his external enviornment.

You want to bring the black money back to India. I am no great economist, but my understanding of 'Black Money' is illegal, unaccounted for wealth. So how did you calculate how much of the wealth is unaccounted for? If it was that simple, then wouldnt the Taxman have done so himself? If i didnt have black money, I couldnt have bought a house! Without it, a father couldnt have secured admission to his sons Engineering! I can give you a reference of the UK labour market. It was once suggested that the UK govt. doesnt put an exit stamp on the Visa simply so that they don't need to account for the illegal immigrants working below minimum wages in the country. These Illegal immigrants ensure sustainability and profitability of the various labour intensive industries, and thus actually help the economy! The same can be applied to Black Money. The fact that it exists, helps in the smooth running of various industries, thus boosting the economy. Excess of it is ofcourse bad. But to hold an indefianet fast to clamp down on it is stupendous I feel.

Sir, if you are indeed a humanitarian, look at todays world. Look at the middle east. Innocent people are being abused, killed and in some cases, entire civilizations are being uprooted. Is that not a greater cause for stayagrah? Why dont the mighty powers of the world step in to restore peace, safeguard human interests? Doesnt the world know how it all began in Palestine? The 7 day war of Egypt? Going further back, The bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki? The crusades? the 100 year war? The colonialization of the world?
Human self is in love with Power. I do not use the word hungry, coz hunger can be satisfied. But you can never have enough of love.
For some, power is in love for people. For some in the sword and guns. In general,it is their capacity to command people, to influence their thoughts and actions. In todays world, the one thing that can achieve this in a most effective way is Money.
Swords and Guns could change the course of a country in the ancient days. Today it can be done by wealth. When the British left India, they left us to be colonized by Indians who were in love with power. Even today, most political effort goes into keeping themselves in power! Welfare and development are secondary.
To change this, we need another Mahatma. With economics as his base. Perhaps a man like the great J.R.D. Tata. Someone whose motive is to earn wealth with the betterment of the people, and not to amass wealth by snatching it away from the people.
This post is getting too long. I shall write again, soon, about my friend in Yemen, and on how being in the wrong place at the wrong time can change ones life... forever!

The People; We are.

Yes; We classify people based on where they come from. Ohh He is a Bihari, or that Bengali fellow, he will never work after tea! The same goes for Malyalis and Tamils and Gujaratis!
Even If you leave the country, the regional discrimination will not leave you! Then you start to think, he is a Bangladeshi; that fellow is just like all Turks!
So; why is it that we have a typical mindset about the various groups of people? What does it take to build a people? Don't we all say and believe that each and every one of us is unique? Then how can we be grouped and stereotyped into one mold?
Then what builds an image of a people? Who is a typical specimen of an average person? Why; we all have certain exceptional qualities. Then how can you be average? Borrowing from the Japanese Yin and Yang; we are all good just as we are all bad.
Would it not then become the responsibility of the speaker to make a fair evaluation of a community before he describes them in generality?
Would you take a remark from someone in good taste, if it were to be typecasting you in one of the 'typical' categories? it would be just like stripping you off all your talents and beauties; and placing you there with a profile with nothing exceptional!
Now; this comes from a typical Indian; who having worked and lived with most of the nationalities and cultural groups of the world feels that people all over the world are the same; all looking for genuine love, satisfaction in their jobs and a comfortable living. Yet each one I have met is unique, as he is so different from his fellow countrymen, sometimes in looks, sometimes in thought and sometimes in style! I find that the Micro has enlarged to the Macro; and the Macro has shrunk to the Micro... You could enlarge your society of 300 houses to half the world; and find remarkable similarities; or you could look into just one family and find striking dissimilarities!
So once again I ask my readers; We, the People; What is it that defines us?

Me and You (Ek Choti si Love Story)

I was once walking down an old deserted road. It was winter and the frost was an inch thick on the rocky terrain. It was a long journey along life's lonely road.
I was still in my youth, The fresh leather boots bit into the ice and gave me a good foothold. Ofcourse, I sometimes became reckless and sauntered away straying from the path. But then I saw Me and You; both walking at a short distance from each other. Both mindful to be near enough, and yet not intersect the others path. However, I was still too young to pay attention to Me and You, and continued wandering along the open fields and meadows... for it was spring now... and the flowers were in full bloom. What a pretty sight it was to behold! The green meadows with bright yellow and red flowers! The old man's tree fully laden with fruits! Further ahead I could see Me and You, both a bit closer now... You looking ever so pretty in the yellow polka dress and Me handsome and smart in conversation with You. Perhaps it was a silly joke, I saw You laugh, the free laughter of youth! It was the dimple on your rosy cheeks, or was it the pearl white shine of your beautiful teeth I do not remember! But I was fascinated by You. My careless walk became more mindful, I forgot to smell the flowers and taste the fruits!I was so engrossed with You!
Me and You seemed happy together. Holding hands, now You were so happy with Me. From afar it looked like a perfect couple, one that could travel along the long road of life through all weathers! Me and You, Together. Forever.
I was still looking at You, lost in my thoughts of You. So much so that I couldn't comprehend the big picture where even to the plain observing eye one could see Me and You happy forever!
I don't clearly recollect what happened next... Everything happened so quick! I moved towards You, I fumbled, I erred. I offended You. You left Me. I withdrew. I could see Me standing alone, calling out to You. You had tears in your eyes as You went away. You cried, but You never came back to Me.
From afar I could see Me broken hearted. There was nothing I could do about it. You had left Me! I felt the urge to run away from the wretched scene, which a moment ago was the most pleasant and romantic. When Me and You were together. Without You even the bloom of spring looks like a snow clad plateau. Everything is buried under. On the surface you see a level sheet of ice. The face that will never betray what lies within, but will just reflect what is shown upon itself.
It has been a long time since. I have been walking over the snow. My manner is no longer carefree and my gait is measured. I've been walking along this road a long while... and I miss the sight of Me and You walking happily along the very same roads! I wonder if ever I should come across You again... What would You look like now! Would You and Me be just as happy as before? Will the seasons change? When? Where will I be then!
I still wonder! In the moonlit nights and the warm winter afternoons! I wonder; I hope; and I Wish!
I pray that I see Me and You happy once again!


A few lines for You:

My thoughts this autum are lonely and sad....
A chill wind from the mountain blows in the garden
The sky is gray, a snowflake falls, the last chrysanthemum
Withers beside the deserted summer house.
I walk along the path in which weeds have grown.
My heart is bitter and tears blur my eyes.
I greive for the days when we lingered together
In this same garden, along these paths between flowers.
In the spring we sang of love and laughed with youth
But now we r parted by many leagues and years,
And i weep that never again shall i see your face....

Flowers are dead; People are beautiful…

 

“Just put them in a wrap and tie it with a ribbon; Five carnations in a bunch. If they are small, make them six. See its that easy!” These words greeted me on my first day at work.

It was a bright summer day in Glasgow, and the flower shop located at the West End of the city. Everyone loves flowers, and I knew that my boss had a thriving business. West End was ‘THE PLACE TO BE’ to have good fun! And my boss had been there for 40 years!

I too loved flowers. Perhaps the reason why I chose to work in the flower shop. Maybe I loved them too much to be able to work with them.

How could you bend and pluck and skin off parts of something you so dearly love! And that too do it with speed and elegantly. But at the Flower shop I learnt the biggest lesson of my young student life.

I learnt that people are like flowers. Your relationships are too like the same.

I had a variety of flowers and could try my imagination picking out combinations for customers. It was always a pleasure to have people who knew flowers. They would tell you; these will die out too soon, or these would be good for the window, and these for the bed.

The long and tiring days were the wedding nights! It was always a challenge to make six dozen bouquets and all must look the same, pretty and elegant. My boss could do it with his eyes closed; perhaps the reason why he was so good at it. And maybe also the reason why he could do days on end without rest when he had back to back orders! It was the first time in my life that I had met and seen a person doing what he loved to earn a living. It showed me how different your life and lifestyle can be when you do what you love, when you are with people who love you for who you are!

People when given due respect and attention become beautiful.  Flowers when left standing too long decay and rot. I was poor at my job; but I learnt to love the people. The flowers died, but the people came back.

I passed my exam. And i miss the flower shop.

The Link

Perhaps it was the one moment where their thoughts were in sync. The thoughts of love!
While Siddhartha fell asleep thinking of his wife; Ankur was dreaming of the pretty girl with a beautiful smile lying on the grass of the meadows!

Death: The end of the beginning.

What happens after one has drawn in the last breath of air? After the last blink of the eye lids? Are we just a lump of hydrocarbon with a limited shelf life? At the end of which we cease to exist? Are we at a constant war with the micro organisms in our body, awaiting till they take over and decompose us back to the earth?
If that be the case; then what is the purpose of life? Why do all religions preach of an 'afterlife'? An eternal hope that no matter what your circumstances are in the present world, that your good deeds will be rewarded in eternal life.
These were the thoughts running through the mind of Siddhartha as he sat on the rocking chair and watching the birds fly home at sunset. Soon the sky would turn from the pale blue he saw now to the fiery red and then darken gradually to fade into the darkness of the night.
Since the past twenty three years he would come out and sit at the porch watching the sun set into the lake of Bikshi. Yes, it was today, twenty three years ago that Pooja had left him; forever. Since then he would come and sit down and watch the end of the day. Often his thoughts would drift towards his beloved wife. For her skin was as golden as the evening sun. Her eyes had the same sparkle as the sun's reflection in the water. Her passion was as fiery as the redness of the sky... In every sunset he would see a part of his wife; and would wish her goodnight and later move indoors as the chilly winds got to his bones.
But tonight was special. He got so far engrossed in his thoughts of life and death and the purpose of it all that he didn't realize that Ankur, his grandson had not returned from the fields.

An old love story...

On a quiet windless night, a young lad climbed up the hill and sat there gazing at the stars. It was a cloudless sky and slight wind. He could hear the chripping of the grasshopper; for it was early in the summer, and the rain had given new life to the vast meadows that lay beyond...
Sitting there he let his thoughts wander... To that new girl who gave him that special smile! She was here on a holiday; that was all he knew of her! He had a glimpse of her when he was working his cart in the market. Just a glimpse!
But tonight while gazing at the stars he trace the outline of her face in the stars! Those luscious lips; the hazle brown eyes; the arch of her neck... and her smile! It was a captivating smile! For some reason he thought it was a special smile only for him! How red his cheeks had been then!
He lost the count of hours in his thoughts... and fell asleep under the open sky... in his dreams too that same pretty face, the slender neck and that very special smile greeted him till the morning sun hit upon his brow...