Monday, September 27, 2010

Train Journey: my favorite essay topic inlcuding the future

On Sunday nights in the months of August, September and October of the year of their Lord Twenty Hundred and Ten, I am to be found travelling by train. It is always the same train (I'm loyal: my dhobi, tailor, shoe brand, jeans brand, shampoo have been steady for a while as well): Dakshin Express, numbered 2722 by the guys at the Railways, or by their forefathers. If you are guessing that the train goes all the way south to Madras, which is anyway what South means, you are dead wrong: good for my self esteem. The train goes to Andhra but if I were to ask where, you would again be wrong. Pleased smile. The train doesn't go to one place at all. If you are imagining things like a surprise destination every day, well, things haven't evolved as much yet. Thing is, somewhere down the railway line it splits in to two, one part goes to Hyderabad and the other to Vijayawada.

I don't go that far. Journey begins in Delhi, quickly crosses over to Haryana (curiously, I live in Haryana), flirts with MP, trundles for an incredible length of time in that chicken's neck of UP that is forever in MP's iron grip, finally breasts the tape to enter MP proper and dies just thereafter. In case you are underwhelmed by the lack of grandeur of the journey don't be. For the journey transverses some impressive territory. It of courses starts in that seven time reborn capital of ours, never mind commonwealth. Agra, of the Taj and the original red fort; Gwalior of the Scindhiyas and Jhansi of the Rani are on the way. No bad for a night's journey, isn't it.

Normally, I enter the train, invigorated by excitement, make a phone call to wifey and/ or family, wait for the train to start, some times eat pantry egg biryani (it isn't biryani but they call it that), spread out my bed roll and sleep off. I always get the side lower berth, which because of the thick curtains, doesn't give the winter snow feeling that air conditioned compartments of Indian Railways normally provide but the rest is business as usual. Wake up two-three times to visit the loo, use the occasions to check on my baggage lest some do gooder had decided to lighten my worldly load and I was at my destination. I was becoming increasingly complacent. Fate played it's proverbial hand and I'm out of practice in poker/ teen patti.

This time, in seats facing my permanent side lower, berth number 35, were what seemed to be members of an office group returning from some off site/ country level mela. For a while, I was regaled by their office gossip, then bored, then irritated as sleep began to descend. At this point I made bleating sounds. I see you smile. Yes, bleating had no effect. Then I roared, or so I thought. They say something about dogs in a pack hunting the lion. I was cornered. A black coat appeared and all the years of greasing the palms of the black coats all over our great country, paid off. Silence or rather train's rhythmic sounds reined. This was at 1 am. The good times lasted till we arrived at Jhansi at 5:45, pre dawn as per me. High noon as per the modern day Rani who alighted at Jhansi. Her high pitched, high decibel out pourings would surely have made many a generals quail. I had no recourse but to do Suryanamaskar for the first time after first year ragging at IIT. Had tea when the vendor arrived and a headache for the rest of the day. God give good sleep to my fellow passengers on my train journies.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Heat... as evidenced by ambient temperature

When does it become hot for you? At what level of the mercury, does the very air become stifling for you. The response should vary depending on where you have spent your life: latitude, altitude, distance from the sea, special geographical features. It should also vary by the amount of time you spend in air conditioning versus in the 'shade' under forced draft cooling versus in the sun. Notwithstanding variations, I expect you start feeling hot some where between 25 and 30 degree celsius. A notable exception is my young cousin. For her, 17 degree celsius supported by forced draft cooling is the upper limit of pleasant.



What is your attitude to heat? Do you live in a cold country and welcome the short period of hot weather? You love hot weather, you declare a holiday on a warm day, take off your clothes and head for the beach.

I live in a very hot country and hot weather is my default state of being. I am conditioned to look at a clear sky with portents of a baking sun later in the day and sigh. I understand my cold country brethren however. I long to see snow, it doesn't snow ever in any of the places I have lived in; while you are probably sick of it. I expect you are programmed to dislike cloudy, snowy weather. No ill will brother.



Do you like dry heat or humid heat? My country, or at least inhabitants of its two premier cities, are sharply divided on this issue. Humid heat is safer, you won't dehydrate. Dry heat is better, sweat will cool you and won't be permanently bathed in it. I have experienced and understand the merits of both. Of course, as a consultant, I can rest after framing both options clearly and letting others decide. So I desist from deciding.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Courage

There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.
- Julius Caesar, William Shakespeare

I m reading "The Last Mughal" by William Darymple. The Last Mughal is about the last years of the rule of the Mughal dynasty, the rule of Bahadur Shah II 'Zafar', and its demise with the 1857 war. Its an eminently readable book but there is one passage that in particular struck me. There was a day in the siege at Delhi, when the outcome of the war was in the balance. Of course, in the long run, it was all going to be futile. British were the dominant power on Earth, with the whole weight of modern science behind them; while Mughal India was wallowing in the dark ages, at least from a scientific standpoint and sooner rather than later India was to go under British rule. However, the outcome of that immediate war was definitely in balance that day. Indian soldiers after tremendous urging had persuaded the Badshah to lead them to the battle. There were 70000 of them, not all well trained but nevertheless 70000. Facing them was a much smaller British army, made of white and mercenary Sikh, Afghan and Gorkha soldiers. The Badshah started out from his palace but courage failed him and he turned back. And the war turned. Badshah lost his shot at glory and the chance of an honorable death in the Delhi that he loved deeply instead of the traceless grave he got in Rangoon.

I also watched the movie 'Gandhi' yesterday. To me India's freedom struggle led by Gandhiji is remarkable for two things: original thinking and courage it demanded and engendered in its soldiers and leaders. To think that non-voilent, active non-cooperation is a powerful enough tool to dislodge the British empire was pretty original thinking: counter intuitive to the thinking of the day, of times before and of times since. And to carry out this thinking required great amounts of courage: of conviction, to face physical pain. Also, very importantly, this kind of struggle based on a deep understanding- of world order, human nature, India's truth and its needs; and on immense courage produced a first generation of leaders for Independent India with the education (in the holistic sense) and mental strength to lay the foundation of a fairly successful nation. Indeed, India has done much better than a lot of other nations who gained Independence from colonial rule at around the same time. Also, India's performance in the first 15 years after Independence was much better than China, notwithstanding the loss of the 1962 war. It was Indira Gandhi who undid a lot of good work and let the momentum dissipate by inaction and/or counter productive action while China forged ahead in the late seventies and early eighties under Deng. Fact is modern China was born out of war, therefore was much better in terms of military might and strategy but much worse in taking care of its citizens or laying the foundation of a strong nation in the first decade or so of their and our existance as a modern nation compared to India. India's didn't see the death from stravation of millions of people post Independence like China saw during Mao's big leap.

Most men have no Delhi or bloodline's glory to protect or a country to free or run. Yet, we all need courage and decisiveness. Moments I regret in life are not moments of grievious misfortune or of abject failure but moments lacking in courage and in decisiveness. And moments that require true courage and decisiveness are often important moments in life. And its no use saying that what's past is gone and let's look forward. Regret lingers. Next time may I be courageous. And may the times come soon. For, otherwise, life is grim and full of past regrets. Soul needs some pride.