Sunday, March 12, 2017

Games Indians Play

WHY ARE WE THE WAY WE ARE?

A Manipuri girl's throat was slit allegedly by an insane man at the Gateway of India on Saturday evening. Tourist Nga Kuimi Raleng (23) died on the spot. The crowd there watched in silence as the chopper-wielding killer attacked the tourist's friend Leisha Choan (20) ...

Express New Service, 14 August 2005

NOT WHO BUT WHY?

'Who am I?' is not a question that occupies me much. I have neither the intellectual curiosity nor the intellectual endowment to ask or answer that question. But, off and on, like when I have just returned from a visit abroad (by 'abroad' I mean not only countries like the USA and the UAE, but also those like the Philippines, Malaysia and Indonesia, or Botswana, Burkina Faso and Burundi), I find myself asking some philosophical questions. For example:

Why is my sense of Public Hygiene so porcine? Why do I throw my garbage around with the gay abandon of an inebriated uncle flinging 500-rupee notes at a Punjabi wedding? Why do I spit with a free-will, as if without that one right I would be a citizen of a lesser democracy? Why do I tear off a page from a library book, or write my name on the Taj Mahal? Why do I light a match to a football stadium, a city bus or any other handy public property, or toot my horn in a residential locality at 3 am? Why do I leave a public toilet smelling even though I would like to find it squeaky clean as I enter it? Why don't I contribute in any way to help maintain a beautiful public park? Why is my concern for quality in whatever I do rather Lilliputian? Why is my ambition  or satisfaction threshold at the level of a centipede's belly button? Why do I run the tap full blast while shaving even when I know of the acute water shortage in the city? Why don't I stop or slow down my car to allow a senior citizen or a child to cross the road? Why do I routinely jump out of my seat in the mad rush for the overhead baggage even before the aircraft comes to a halt? despite the repeated entreaties of the cabin crew? Why do I routinely disregard an airline's announcement to board in orderly groups in accordance with seat numbers? Why does it not hurt my national pride that in international terminals abroad extra staff is appointed at gates from which flights to India are to depart? Why don't I vote? Why don't I stand up or retaliate against social ills? Why is it that everytime the government announces a well-intended measure like a higher rate of interest for senior citizens I am not averse to borrowing my ageing parents' names, or the old family maid's for that matter, to save my money? Why is it that, every time the government announces no tax deduction at source for small depositors, I split my bank-account into fifteen different accounts, with the active connivance of the bank manager? Why do I jump red lights with the alacrity of a jackrabbit leaping ahead of a buckshot? Why do I drive at night in the city with the high beam on? Why do I jump queues with the zest of an Olympic heptathlon gold hopeful?


- starting lines of the book - Games Indians Play

Friday, November 25, 2016

We shall not cease from exploration...

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree



Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always--
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flames are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.

- an excerpt from The Little Gidding, by T. S. Eliot