Share & Care - Lessons From A Crow

Reams of religious scriptures proclaim humans as the most intelligent and most special of creations favored by 'God'. However, we humans have time and again proved ourselves to be unworthy of such adulations. Also, no one that has ever observed fellow lifeforms on this planet would entertain such naïve beliefs. For, every lifeform has its own fair share of vices and virtues. While we humans have been displaying more vices than virtues these days, the animal kingdom throws up a pleasant surprise with its noble qualities every now and then. I was a lucky witness of one such surprise this morning.

Just as I was having my breakfast at a roadside eatery, I saw two crows scavenging for food from a bin kept nearby for disposing leftovers. Wanting to feed them, I took a small piece from my food and threw it towards them. Agitated, they flew away and took refuge on a compound wall. Assessing whether I posed a threat, and assured that I wasn’t, one of the crows came down to the place where I had thrown the morsel, while the other remained perched on the compound wall, watching my moves.

The bigger and braver crow that came down examined the food. Satisfied that it was just food and no harmful projectile, it picked the morsel and went back to the wall in one swift move. Sitting on the wall, our brave crow gulped down the food little by little. Seeing that made me happy at getting an opportunity to feed them. There was even a faint whiff of ego for my having been the only one in the whole bunch of people to look at those crows and give them food. But what happened next made that ego vanish.

As the brave crow was finishing eating, the other crow on the wall started cawing. I am not an ornithologist and definitely no mythical character capable of understanding the language of birds, but I could clearly make out his – or, was it a her?! – cry for food. As the cawing continued for a few seconds, our brave crow walked close to his hungry companion. Turning the head towards the other and widely opening his dark beak, he let the other crow partake the half-swallowed food.

Now, we have all heard or even seen how the mother bird feeds her brood through regurgitation. But two fully grown birds sharing food with one another in the same fashion? That was a first to me, which made me both happy and contemplative. If such ‘less-sentient’ creatures like crows could behave with such care and compassion, why can’t we?! We have made huge pedestals and glorious tales for concepts like Nobility, Care, Compassion, Empathy, Sympathy, Understanding and What-Not! But have we realized that they should indeed have been our routine ways of life?

What if we started treating one another with courtesy? What if we added compassion to all our interactions with our fellow occupants on this beautiful planet? How nice it would be if only we could lace all our words, thoughts and deeds for and with one another with basic decency? We don’t need to go hungry to feed another being, but what if we could share whatever little we have and stay content? How would the world be if we all behaved like that crow, not just mindful of our own personal needs but staying compassionate towards those much less fortunate than us?

As the famous author Scott Adams once said, we should all ‘remember there's no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end.’ Well, being a dreamer, I can’t help but imagine the whole planet being drowned in such pleasant ripples!

Human Dignity

A person's dignity is never defined by their wealth, clothes, job or social 'status'. Dignity of a human being is something innate. Got this old idea of mine reinforced today as I observed one of the janitors at the restaurant this morning. He was sitting at one of the tables in the not-so-well-lit inner corner of the restaurant. The way in which he was sitting was what you call as 'majestic'. Sitting sideways on the chair, ramrod straight, broad-chested, a square jaw that complemented the overall manful look, with one hand resting on the table and the other above it, he reminded me of the paintings of Maharanas and Zamindars of yore. Initially I assumed him to be a customer awaiting his food. But only when I saw him gather the cleaning cloth and the bucket from behind the chair and start cleaning the tables did I understand what he really was. Even while cleaning the tables, his demeanour wasn't that of someone doing a 'menial' job. He went about his job in a clinical, detached manner.

Once again I have learnt that dignity isn't defined by ephemeral external factors, but something that we exude from within. And, I am grateful to that middle-aged fellow citizen from North-East for this morning's lovely lesson!

Book Review – 50 Events You Really Need To Know – History of War, Robin Cross

A few weeks ago, while casually surfing the web, I came across a cartoon. Donald Trump, the US President, and Kim Jong-un, the North Korean Supreme Leader, were both caricatured as naked little boys having a standoff, with nuclear missiles drawn in place of their ‘manhood’.  No matter how offensive you might find it to be, the cartoon stands to prove one thing - for all the sense of self-importance that we humans hold for being the ‘most intelligent species on the planet’, there are quite a bunch of inherent vices that prove to be perfect antitheses to such beliefs.

Compassion, Love and Empathy may not all be present in every human being, but Greed, Corruption and Violence are perfectly embedded within our selves in varying degrees. Starting from the Biblical times when Cain slew Abel due to envy, to these modern days where ‘leaders of men’ hold the world hostage with their nuclear whims, we have always encouraged violence. It will not be wrong to say that we are even fascinated by it. TV, media and movies are all thrive on violence of one form or the other. And, war is the perfect theatre where we humans give a free hand to our violent personalities.

I have always liked the books of ‘50 Ideas You Really Need To Know’ series. Presenting 50 little essays on any chosen subject, peppered with snippets of info all over the pages, these books are a collector’s pleasure. So is this book on war. Robin Cross starts from the days when the war chariots first came into being and concludes with a look at war in the cyberspace, where the ‘warriors’ need not even move from their seats. In this work stretching across millennia, he has chosen 50 ideas, innovations, weapons that changed the course of war and proved decisive. Ranging from the Roman Legions to the unmanned combat aerial vehicles, from longships of Vikings to the deep-diving submarines, monstrous cannons to machine guns, this book takes a peek at everything that has ever been a masterpiece of the gore art of war.

But, there is something disappointing about the work. First of all, this book sounds more like a mere collection of facts than like the fascinating subject that history is. There is a bit of incoherence in the writing at times as well. A little dry and dull writing style in the middle makes for uninteresting reading. Also, this isn’t the ‘history’ of war, as the title states, but only a highlight of some of the weapons and tools that changed the face of war.

While the subject is something that we might all like or even love, the book isn’t. A moderate shot at the very long history of wars! Interesting topic written in insipid style!

Book Review – The Sun and Her Flowers, Rupi Kaur

There are many glorious names adorning the genre of poetry. Names that can at once excite the reader as they are uttered. Names that can tinge the air with a peculiar sensation. Kahlil Gibran, Gulzar, Pablo Neruda and Kamala Das are a few such names drawn from my own reading experience. This woman Rupi Kaur is definitely headed towards that elite list, provided she keeps writing the way she does – touching our deeply hidden emotions, fears and desires at ease through her words. Of course, it is too early to attribute such a halo around her head. But few contemporary poets write with the candidness that is her forte.

Poetry isn’t merely putting together a bunch of flowery words and hoping that the reader will get to see the hidden meaning in them. A poem gets conceived like a child. Only a poet can understand the birthing pangs as a poem takes shape deep inside one’s soul. Every poem written on paper is a sliver of a poet’s persona. A poem is a collage of all the dreams, pains, failures, desires, hopes, experiences and expectations that swirl within the vortex that is the poet’s mind. And, this poetess beautifully lays them all down straight on paper.

This much-awaited anthology continues from where the previous collection left. Just like the previous work, this book also deals mainly with themes like love, longing, grief and healing, with a feministic attitude towards them. Just like human personality, some poems convey the pain of separation, while some poems deal with the process of healing the heart. Some poems speak about the fear of being not enough, while most speak about self-love and self-worth. A refreshing aspect in this collection is her paying attention to the search for identity in a land faraway from her own. Poems written with compassion for her parents, their struggle to make their lives in a place far from their motherland, her empathy towards their pains, emotions and sacrifices make moving reading. It is refreshing too, as a break from the usual pining over the loss of a beloved.

Another fresh thing about her writing is that she isn’t negative with her words, there is no male-bashing in the name of feminism, and the pages don’t just stay soaked in tears and self-pity. As much as she feels low over the loss of love, she exudes abundant hopes and self-worth as well. Also, delicate topics like physical desires, self-pleasure, etc., which, if handled carelessly, can give the work a lewd tint, have been handled with utmost sensitivity that only the poets are blessed with. Her seemingly scribbled illustrations are blissful too.

Occasionally one can’t help feeling that the book feels very similar to the previous work and sounds more like the second volume of a collection than like a separate work. But, being so young and so intense, she can be ‘forgiven’ for not diversifying on her themes yet. I am hopeful that as she ages, she will diversify her themes and get beyond mere ‘feministic’ themes.

Full of unconventional poems – from spellings to themes – and poetic sentences, this book feels more like a gallery of emotions. This is more than a book. This is an experience for the eyes!

Book Review – Kohinoor, William Dalrymple & Anita Anand

A few months ago, when a famous Indian industrialist – famous more for his debauched lifestyle than for any worthwhile achievements – took asylum in Britain, absconding after his financial crimes were brought to light, a friend of mine made a sarcastic tweet. Paraphrased, it went like ‘Even Mr. ______ seems to know that Britain is the best place to take refuge after looting India.’ For all the hilarity of that tweet, it conceals a sense of bitterness that many generations of Indians feel against the so-called global ‘super power’ that plundered and looted their motherland for almost two centuries in a clinical manner. Sowing dissensions where there were none, widening the chasms where there were only cracks, looting the natural resources, causing one of the worst man-made famines in the history, the so-called Raj did all that and more to loot her colonies, prime among them India. In a cruel twist of irony, one of the most noteworthy items plundered thus now crowns the royalty of England – the Koh-i-Noor!

Almost all of us Indians would have heard of the Koh-i-Noor, along with the Peacock throne, as one of the most precious things robbed from us. If you ever became keen on knowing about the entire story, then I would recommend this book. Such a breathtaking chronicle this turned out to be.

This book is divided into two parts. The first part, deals with the hazy origins of the Kohinoor, its comparison/identification with the mythical Syamantaka gem – associated with Lord Krishna, the arrival of Babar and the transfer of ownership of the stone. Leading us through the Mughal lineage, the history then takes a bloody turn at the hands of the marauding Nader Shah, the Persian who soaked Delhi’s streets in blood. The stone then continues its journey from Persia to Afghanistan, arriving with Ahmad Khan Abdali, the once loyal servant of the now assassinated Nader Shah. Fortunes rise for Ahmad Shah only to fall soon for his descendants. When one of the famed Indian royals – Raja Ranjit Singh – attains the diamond from Shah Shuja under disreputable methods, the Kohinoor comes a full circle in its journey – from India to Persia to Afghanistan to India. Dalrymple ends his portion with the death of the Lion of Punjab.

Picking from where he left, Anita Anand continues in a style that is in no way secondary. Recalling the gore history of Punjab after Ranjit Singh, Anita Anand goes on to recount the regicides, blood feuds and eventual decline of the once-mighty empire into a rudderless ship to be swayed by the wily hands of the East India Company honchos. Prince Duleep Singh, left orphaned, much like his motherland, is whisked away and then removed permanently from his homeland. His uninformed acquiescence with the British, eventual decline and pitiable death form the final few chapters. The passage of the ‘Mountain of Light’ (Koh-i-Noor) through the many hands during this phase and its final arrival in Britain as a ‘gift’ to the Queen Victoria, are all given in such vivid details that you will feel a medley of emotions surging through your mind. The spineless efforts of the Indian government to reclaim the symbol of what was once a glorious ‘Hindustan’ is told in the fading pages.

The pursuit of wealth has almost always blinded humans, making beasts out of even the best among them. Add to it the mystery and aura surrounding something like the Koh-i-Noor, and you have all the ingredients of a disastrous tale in your hands. Disaster the Koh-i-Noor has very well proved to be. Not in the superstitious sense though. The greed and cruelty inherent in each and every human being has time and again found unbridled expression in people occupying the thrones. Things like the Koh-i-Noor have merely thrown light at such blatant behaviours and bloody results.  Sadly, this ‘Mountain of Light’ has only managed to leave behind a trail of darkness and tragedy.

Shashi Tharoor isn’t someone that I thought that I would ever agree with. But when he appreciated this book saying that ‘there is nothing more you need to know about the Kohinoor’, I couldn’t agree more!

A masterpiece indeed!

Book Review – Seven Basic Lessons on Physics, Carlo Rovelli

With this book, Penguin Publishers play with us the usual trick in publishing – of producing a bunch of papers out of thin air and calling it a book. With a majority of the books on my shelf having had their origin at Penguin, I could safely vouch for it. A bunch of essays / stories / poems shuffled and printed under different names in different combinations, articles that appeared in the web/newspaper bunched together and sold as a book are just two of the samples of such money-minting techniques in publishing industry. This book is the product of one such trickery.

The seven ‘lessons’ in this book were all a series of articles originally published in the supplement of an Italian newspaper. By increasing the font size and using a little thicker paper, Penguin has tried to publish a ‘book’, which, sadly doesn’t even reach the count of hundred pages to become ‘book’ enough for a voracious reader. At best, this is just a booklet.

More than the size or the manner of publishing, it is the content that adds to the disappointment. If you are looking to cut your teeth into Physics, in a more academic manner, then this book is not for you. This booklet is more like a cursory peek at the world of Advanced Physics, with some of the major theories and techniques, like the Theory of Relativity and Quantum Mechanics, being talked about in a poetic language. Yes, the book feels more like it was a literary work than a scientific one, which makes it a bit tiring to read.

Also, the book deals with the two extremes of Physics – that of a Cosmic scale and then of the Quantum state. So, if you are new to science, with no basic idea about Astronomy or Atoms, simply here to learn about the basics of Physics, you might even end up disappointed.

This book is a casual read for those who already have a fair introduction into atomic physics and astrophysics. As for the rest, I am not sure that everyone would enjoy it.

2.5/5 stars!

Wish You A Delightful Diwali 2017!

Gone are the days when festivals were affairs of colours and gala moods. These days, no festival is complete if not preceded by a cacophony of ‘social activists’ and ‘intellectuals’ asking for a ban on something or the other. Ban on animal slaughter, ban on water wastage, ban on crackers/fireworks - in the pretext of pushing for social causes, we have turned our festivals into cheap opportunities to settle political vendetta and serve our vested interests.

In childhood, Ramzan and Bakr-id were chances for me to learn about the five pillars of Islam. Christmas made me aware of Compassion as taught and practised by Christ. Puja holidays and Pongal (Sankaranthi) were occasions that taught me the value of labour and the importance of gratitude. Diwali, well, there was no other festival that could ever match the grandeur and fun of Diwali for my innocent little mind.

But these days, TV channels and national media is ablaze with debates, discussions and dizzying offerings of hatred, paranoia and information on bans of some kind or the other. Is this the way we want our children to celebrate their festivals? Is this what we have learnt as human beings? If all the religions are teaching only love and peace, are we truly the practitioners such graceful religions? If all our religions point to only one god in reality, are we being the worthy followers of such a compassionate, merciful god?!

Show compassion to all the animals on all the 365 days of the year. Not just when another religion is about to celebrate its festivals based on animal sacrifice. If you want to save water, do so by creating awareness, preventing wastage of water in your home and neighbourhood before asking for a ‘ban’ on other’s festivals. If you want to avoid pollution, ditch your costly sedans and swank SUVs that guzzle fuel by gallons and start using public transportation. Plant trees, clean your surroundings, and spread awareness on cleanliness.

Festivals are all occasions that were created for the purpose of uniting people, to develop in them a sense of solidarity, to bring out the love and to spread euphoria all around. Let’s stop using such auspicious occasions as a launchpad for our hateful campaigns, please. Let’s all learn to live and let live.

May the lamps that we all light today dispel the darkness of our homes as well as our hearts, fill them both with a pleasant warmth! May the crackers and fireworks blast away our egos and petty thinking to pieces! May the gifts that we share today act as symbols of our love for each other and the fresh garments that we wear today brighten even our souls and fill them with colors.

Compassion, happiness, care and love are all not mere words to be exchanged on any single day but principles to be practised throughout our lives. Let’s learn the same this Diwali.

Here’s to all of you and your family members, hearty wishes on this auspicious day. Live long, in good health, in absolute peace, with abundant happiness and unwavering love!

Book Review - The Magic of Thinking Big, David Schwartz

Books on personal development, or the so-called ‘self’-help genre, have been around for so long, there is no doubt about that. There is a plethora of such books, which promise to help a person overcome the tough situations in life and sail through smoothly. Especially in our modern times, where publishing a book has become as easy as ordering a product online, there is a rise in the number of authors who promise to improve your life by offering some quick-fix solutions for your troubles. But there are very few authors who write books that leave a lasting impact, without merely indulging in flowery language and empty platitudes. 'The Magic of Thinking Big' is a book of the first kind.

Make no mistakes about it, all of us started our lives by dreaming big. We had high ambitions, we dreamt big and hoped big. But sooner than later the 'reality' gave us a wake-up call and the world around made us shrink our dreams and thoughts. Few of us, if ever, arrived at our last day with all our dreams fulfilled and all our hopes intact. Life shakes us all up and shatters our dreams. But some of us march on, tough as nails in the face of struggles. What separates such victors from the vanquished is their thought process. When Life throws you a challenge, one can simply wilt down and wither away or one can simply toughen oneself up and tear apart the challenges. And, one's self-belief plays the most crucial role in how one overcomes the challenges.

In this book, Dr.David Schwartz elaborates on the ageless principle of 'you become what you think'. What is so refreshing about this book is the very practical approach to the problems and the offering of subtle solutions. This book does not ask you to write some self-assuring line for 100 times daily. This book does not ask you to stare at yourself in a mirror - except on one rare occasion - and repeat some 'magical phrase' so many times to encourage yourself. All this book asks you is to think and to think BIG.

One of the most interesting aspects of this book is, this is quite comprehensive. Whether you are suffering from self-imposed inferiority complex or you have been told by people that you’re incapable of doing something, whether you’re suffering a setback in your venture or you’ve not even started yet due to fear, this book will add a dash of confidence to your thoughts and deeds. It all flows in simple, plain language, as if a friend is sitting across the table, speaking with you about your troubles and help stimulate your thought process, through which you get to correct your thought process and solve your troubles on your own. There is no peppering of quotes from ancient philosophers and certainly no repetition of platitudes as many popular modern-day authors wont to do.

If you would want to read only one book of the personal development genre ever, choose this one. For, this is such a beautiful, brilliant and worthwhile stuff!

Book Review - Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman, Haruki Murakami

The next time you visit an art gallery, try visiting the abstract arts section. Or, much easier, perform a Google search for the works of painters like Markus Rothko or Jackson Pollock. You will then be gazing at paintings that will be in stark contrast to those of Raphael, Michelangelo or Da Vinci. While the Renaissance masters garnered glory by creating works that were more lifelike, the kinds of Rothko and Pollock shunned realistic representation in favour of abstraction. In other words, they didn’t show you what they wanted to ‘show’, choosing instead to make you ‘feel’ whatever it was that they felt while they created their works of art. For a mind that is capable of correctly discerning and absorbing those ideas, the paintings feel like sheer genius. For the lesser mortals, however, their paintings will appear to be mere lozenges of colours and dribbles of paint.

It is the same with the authors too. Some of them portray an idea, in the usual flow of a beginning, middle and the end, whereas some others merely let their brushes - or pens, in our case - dab a line here, smear some colour there and make a few random streaks across the canvas. It is for the discerning readers to identify the ideas and plot lines to relish the story. However, not all of us emerge successful in reading such books and not all the authors create such works of mastery.

I have quite often come across the name of Haruki Murakami in the bookshops and the web. What really kindled my interest in his works was how he was recommended to me as an author capable of portraying surreal experiences and mystical experiences. So, when the book arrived, I held and opened it with almost a sense of reverence. However, like every high expectation, mine fell flat on its face too.

Of course, I am not here to completely write him off as a merely hyped up author. I liked the stories - some of them - for their ability to penetrate deep into the reader’s hearts, tug some of their strings, stir up a sense of nostalgia and leave some sharp pangs as they ended. Stories like ‘Birthday Girl’, ‘The Mirror’, ‘Nausea 1979’, ‘Hanalei Bay’, add a sense of mystery, while tales like ‘’The Seventh Man’, ‘Tony Takitani’, ‘Firefly’ wring the heart with poignant depictions of love and loss. I thoroughly enjoyed reading these stories. On the other hand, there were stories like ‘Dabchick’, ‘Crabs’ and ‘A Perfect Day for Kangaroos’ which made me wonder as to why did even bother picking this book in the first place. From start to end, these tales made little or no sense whatsoever. In fact, they made reading a drab.

I picked this book also hoping that I would be able to have a peek at the Japanese culture. Apart from haikus, I have no acquaintance whatsoever with the Japanese literary world. But there was next to nothing that could have made me feel that if I was reading anything unique. The routine references to drinking, unapologetic portrayals of adultery, constant references to the Jazz circle, all made me feel as if I was stuck with the work of a Paulo Coelho or even one of those wannabe’ NRI writers. May be I am not doing justice to the author by expecting too much, but reading all these stories at once, I felt as if the writing had a kind of dull, routine style.

I am not trying to brush this book off as a complete loss though. I really liked a lot of those stories for the sense of magical aura, their deep emotional quotient, a sense of nostalgia that they stoke within and the flowing style. However, some of them really made no sense and sounded more like garble. And, that leaves me with mixed emotions. Should I be reading more Murakami? I am not sure. May be Murakami isn’t for me!

Book Review – The Courtesan’s Keeper, Kshemendra

Contrary to what the imposed pseudo-morals of Victorian era have made us Indians believe in and pretend to be, the ancient India was not just a land of naked ascetics and spiritual seekers. The ancient ‘Bharat Varsha’ was a land that remained unabashed in its carnal pursuits too. In fact, we Indians treated Pleasure as one of the worthy pursuits of life, as every treatise on politics and philosophy stands testimony to, with its listing of the four-fold pursuits - ‘Dharma’ (Righteousness), ‘Artha’ (Wealth), ‘Kama (Pleasure) and ‘Moksha’ (Salvation).

While there have been treatises purely on physical pleasure, like the Kama Sutra and the Kokkoka, there are also spiritual works soaked in eroticism, like the famed ‘Geet Govind’ of Jayadeva. This work neither belongs to the literary class nor is its content on par with any of the aforementioned works, but still it demands attention on its own right. What else can you say about a book that acts as both a manual for courtesans as well as a warning to the gentle folk against their guiles?

Kalavati is a courtesan with a waning clientele in a ‘competitive’ market. Worried about her future, she seeks advice from barber Kanka. Kanka in turn makes her avail the help of Kankali, a wily courtesan in her golden days but now a loathsome hag. Kankali helps Kalavati settle her future by seducing and scamming the gullible young son of a greedy, wealthy merchant. The book starts with Kalavati expressing her concerns to the friendly barber, the barber elaborating the exploits of Kankali and ends with Kankali helping Kalavati by imparting her ‘wisdom’ and ensnaring a young prey, exploiting his wealth.

A breezy little read that attempts to protect the good men from the clutches of such crooked courtesans. If only men would listen!

Book Review - What On Earth Evolved?, Christopher Lloyd

Somebody give me a medal, please!

For, the very act of reading through this book and finishing it demands a lot of attention and feels like an achievement by itself. Not that it is boring or poorly written. It is just that amount of facts contained in this book, the unbelievable amount of research that would have taken to compile them all, are both factors that can make one go limp with astonishment.

In this book, the famed world history author Christopher Lloyd tries to reproduce the magic of his other renowned work ‘What On Earth Happened’ and has succeeded in his quest to a large extent. Identifying 100 species out of the millions of creatures, listing them one by one in the order of importance - in terms of their contribution to the evolution of our planet – Lloyd has done a stupendous job. From ‘lowly’ life-forms like viruses and bacteria – only in terms of size – to the now-extinct species of dinosaurs, from the species that we can reconstruct in our mind’s eye only with the help of fossils to the pleasingly beautiful roses and lotuses, this book deals with a wide array of species.

With the book being divided into a hundred chapters, one per species, this book can be used as a reference material or a relaxed read. If you’re a person interested in evolution, history of the planet, the plant/animal lives or, simply in general science, then this is a book that you must have in your shelf. Amazing work!

Book Review - To The Brink And Back, Jairam Ramesh

The year was 2011. It was the final match of the Cricket World Cup. India were in trouble, chasing a steep target. The Indian captain, first bailed the team out with a calm, calculated performance and then sent the ball sailing across the ropes, sealing a victory that gladdened the hearts of a billion Indians.

Now, imagine one of the support staff from the team deciding to write a book about that emphatic win. Also imagine the 'support staff' claiming that the captain was unsure about what he was doing and just happened to be in the middle at that moment to simply partake in the glory which was already in India's grasp. AND, imagine this too - the 'support staff' claiming that it was only because he, the 'support staff', went to the middle often and supplied the players with drinks, gloves and suggestions, that the team won the cup. Whatever your reaction is, please ensure to make Mr. Jairam Ramesh the subject of your reaction, because that is exactly what he has tried to do in this book.

The year wasn't 2011 but 1991. It wasn't the high-glam arena of Cricket but the volatile world of politics. The captain was none other than Shri P.V. Narasimha Rao. India were facing much worse, real troubles, two decades before that high-voltage evening. Indian economy was in shambles. There was no political stability. Her creditworthiness was at an all-time low. Her credibility was to be lost forever. It was in such a critical juncture that 'captain' Narasimha Rao stepped in and changed the pace of the game and face of Indian economy.

Jairam Ramesh, who went on to occupy some senior ministerial positions himself later on, was one of the members in Mr.PV's team at that time. I hoped that that alone was reason enough to buy this book, since Mr.Jairam Ramesh promised a 'ringside' view, having had access to private conversations, notes and documents pertaining to the 1991 liberalisation of Indian economy. Being a politician, Jairam just promises a lot only to deceive.

To begin with, the author does not think of PV as someone who made decisions that mattered. According to him, PV was indecisive and uncertain. All the good work was done by Dr.Manmohan Singh and PV just happened to be the PM that shared the credit. That's all. You might wonder whether Jairam had any grudges against PV to write such things. Seems he really did have. Getting almost all his drafts ignored by PV and finally having been 'ignominiously' transferred out of the team, both seem to be grouses that Jairam carries against PV to write in such a manner.

His loyalty to Rajiv and Indira is clearly reflecting in his biased writing. He credits Rajiv Gandhi with many of the measures implemented by PV and Dr.Manmohan Singh. According to him Rajiv himself would have undertaken all those measures were he alive in 1991. Honest historians and economists have different takes though. Also, he squarely blames the previous two PMs - VP Singh and Chandrashekar - for the disastrous state of economy. Somebody should remind Mr. Jairam that the 'license-permit-raj' was protected, and even nurtured, to a large extent by Mrs. Indira Gandhi and her coterie, leading to large scale corruption and red-tape that had choked Indian industry for a long time.

Another annoying, and even immature, aspect is how Jairam projects himself as the mastermind to whom the bigwigs often turned for suggestions and ideas. 'He asked my guidance for this', 'I suggested him this', 'he took my advice', 'I made this joke' - these are all things you expect some self-centred imbecile to write. Not someone who occupied some top positions in the country!

Just by having put together superfluous footnotes, flurry of 'official documents', interviews and quotes - that only hamper the flow - Mr. Jairam may think that he has produced a masterpiece. But this work is simply incoherent and immature, faring no better than a dull-witted political student's patchy project report.

Book Review – 1991 – How P.V. Narasimha Rao Made History, Sanjaya Baru

1991!

It was a watershed year in the history of India, as well as of the world. Chaos prevailed both inside and outside India. At the beginning of the year, the country on her West, Iraq, was brought to its knees by America and its allies, on a six-month long war to free Kuwait. This brought a deep strain on the pockets by raising the price of oil. On her East, USSR, one of her own long-term allies, was teetering on a period of political uncertainty. And, this caused a lot of trouble to the exports, which mainly depended on USSR. The situation at home was not much heartwarming either. Two prime-ministers came and went in what can reasonably termed ‘quick succession’. There was no political certainty in the country.

What was even more alarming was the balance-of-payments crisis, with India having the foreign exchange reserves that could afford for only two-week’s worth of imports. Even if India had decided to curb all the other imports and spend the scarce reserves only on crucial commodities of food and oil, this situation would only have worsened. With the credit rating of the country suffering a serious blow, raising credit in the global markets was becoming next to impossible. There was the ignominy of having pledged gold with the banks of Europe and Japan to raise foreign-exchange. IMF was acting like a big brother advising India to mend her ways and show some financial prudence.

There were two options ahead of India – either to become a defaulter, lose credibility and creditworthiness for a long, long time to come OR to implement some tough but timely measures to steady the ship. In a populous country like India, implementing any idea or policy that is going to usher in changes, especially some bitter ones, was never going to be easy. But the cat HAD to be belled.

The unfortunate assassination of Rajiv Gandhi won for Congress a mandate that was barely enough to claim the right to rule the country for the next five years. Amidst all that uncertainty arose an unlikely hero – P.V.Narasimha Rao. This diminutive persona proved himself worthy by overcoming all those challenges. Apart from recruiting Dr.Manmohan Singh, who went on to become the Prime Minister himself, and giving him a free hand to implement the necessary changes in the country’s fiscal policy, Rao did also open up the Indian industry by doing away with all the cobwebs of ‘License Raj’. Also, at a time when the Congressmen were en masse falling at the feet of Nehru’s descendants, Rao gave hope by proving that in the ranks of Congress were capable leaders that could still hold their own when it came to leading the country.

But, there are quite some ironies in the tale of this memorable Prime Minister. Though a polyglot, who could converse in nearly two dozen languages, he was known more for his silence than for his eloquence. A man that was secular and sensible, it was under his regime that the shameful demolition of Babri Masjid took place, though he had played a vital role during the struggles against the Hyderabad Nizam in the 1940s. Though he had achieved many things in the five years with his minority government, the credit for many of his good initiatives went to his successors. Whether he deserves a Bharat Ratna or not is a topic worthy of debate and decision.

About the book, well, Sanjaya Baru has done an amazing work with his research and writing. Many of the books that I have read about History and Economy have all sounded so dry and dull. But this book feels more like a political thriller than like a work of non-fiction. The fluent style of Sanjaya Baru, reinforced by his impartial assessment of the prevailing scenario of that time, makes for interesting reading, though occasionally one gets the feeling that he tries to depict Narasimha Rao as a man without any faults. Baru makes up for it by not pulling any punches when it comes to criticizing the dynastic behavior of the current descendants of the Nehru clan.

This is a book that extensively recounts the economic and political changes in India during 1991. Changes that turned the tide in India’s favor and placed her on the path of economic progress. Changes that were brought about by an unsung hero that went from being respected to reviled in a life full of ironies.

Book Review - Carnatic Music (Tamizh), by Mahadevan Ramesh

When I first saw this book in Amazon recommendations, I grabbed the offer with both hands, thinking that it would be an ideal introduction into the Carnatic part of the Indian Classical Music. But the book turned out to be a big disappointment in two aspects though.

1. It's the Tamizh translation of a book originally written in English. While it is nothing wrong by itself, the translation of Maths and Science jargon into Tamizh makes for difficult reading. Also, what's the point in reading a translated work when one can very well read the book in the original language in which it was written!

2. Though the book claims to be an introduction to Carnatic music, aimed at informing the laymen on the basics of this classical form of music, the book fails to live up to that promise. Within the first couple of pages, the author shifts gear and gets into technicalities and nuances that will be discernible only to the amateurs and those who already have a basic understanding of Carnatic music.

If you're a novice looking for a book that will initiate you into the world of Indian Classical Music, well, there are much better ones out there.

There Is Still Hope!

For all the annoyance and disappointment I feel about the stupidity and pathetic quality of the present and previous generations, I have immense hopes about the potential of the young children I meet every day. The kids that wield snazzy gadgets with ease, indulge at will in science and arts as if they are, all of them, blessed prodigies, are the ones who will walk this earth soon as sensible adults.

One thing I love about the kids is their civic sense. A few months ago, I saw and wrote about how a little girl picked up the empty paper cup thrown on the ground by her irresponsible grandmother and put it in a trash can nearby.

Something similar happened today. In the train now, the TTE arrived to verify the tickets of those who had boarded after the main station. Being late night most of the lights in the compartment were turned off. The TTE turned on the lights, verified the tickets and moved on without turning off the lights.

Just as he did the same in my part of the compartment, the little boy, who must have been around 7-8 years and was lying in middle berth, called the TTE yelling, "Uncle, where are you going without turning off the lights? Turn it off and go."

The TTE was a little taken aback and gave a boy a quizzical look. Then, realizing his mistake, said "I will come, darling. Wait."

Meanwhile somebody else turned off the lights and the kid turned away and started sleeping. I was left wondering. In a nation where a vast majority doesn't bother about letting water go waste in public washrooms, doesn't switch off lights and fans when not in use, doesn't feel ashamed about spitting, littering and urinating in public, there is a bright new generation which appears to have been blessed with as much civic sense as they are gifted with smart brains. Would be happy to see such kids grow up with as much civic sense and social responsibility as they have now, without getting negatively influenced by the kind of morons that their parents are. Hopefully!

Be Your Fountainhead

 

We, as a society, have this malaise of depicting happiness as something that one 'achieves'. According to us, happiness is when one excels in academics, when one achieves material success, when one finds a companion or begets offspring, gets to be a celebrity or successful in any stream of life. Our culture, media, even the very way of our lives, portray the achievers, celebrities and the rich as content and happy.

But happiness that depends on all these is not happiness but mere satisfaction that depends on base criteria. The real happiness wells up from within. Just like that of a baby. A baby does not need any price tag on its toys to become happy. A baby plays with a pricey fur toy with the same enthusiasm as it exhibits when it finds a broken twig.

So, let's all learn to be as happy with nothing as we are with everything. There have been people who amassed abundant material wealth, acquired all titles of honour and gathered as many swank gadgets as they could and yet died in a penurious state of mind. I have otherwise seen poor people in ragged clothes go to sleep with nothing but their arms for pillows and a song on their lips.

So, be happy. Stay happy. With everything. Without anything. With everyone. Without anyone. May the stream of happiness finds its fountainhead within your own beautiful selves!

Five Philosophical Lessons

There are five things that I have learnt by reading philosophy - 

1. None of us have a damn clue about anything that is happening around us.

2. But that doesn't stop us from forming our own interpretations and opinions about the same.

3. None of us stay long enough to put it all together and see the big picture, or to even know whether our views were right or wrong.

4. The correctness or otherwise of our opinions is rated by the number of people that accept them and not by the truth they carry.

5. In reality, everything is transient and everything is mere fleeting sensation. Puff! Who cares?!

Happy Independence Day 2017!

We are one of the most corrupt nations in the world. A majority of our citizens are selfish and can't think beyond their stomachs. Civic sense and social responsibility are both alien concepts to most of us. Our politicians are as stinking as they can. The principles of diversity and secularism, which were our prime identity, are both fraying. Religious fanatics and caste ideologies are having a field day. We ridicule the heroes of our Independence Struggle, libeling them with lowly scandals. We pledge our resources to mammoth corporates, sell our votes for petty sums, desecrate our monuments, damage our environment without care, worship false celluloid/sports idols and live out our whole lives in vain.

BUT, today, whenever I see that tricolor being hoisted, I feel a glimmer of hope and abundant pride. Thousands and thousands of our ancestors stood shoulder to shoulder, fighting for this right to hoist our own flag, which isn't mere fabric, but the very symbol of all that is unique and precious about this country.

The past wasn't all guts and glory, but that's where all our present glories emanate from. The present isn't all bright but there are still abundant opportunities for us to wake up and set our steps right. The future isn't always certain, but we can let the tricolor unite and lead us onward as a united nation of responsible, ethical citizens, living in peaceful and prosperous conditions. Jai Hind!

Happy Independence Day!

Book Review – The Quest of the Sparrows, Kartik Sharma & Ravi ‘Nirmal’ Sharma

When the authors of this book first approached me, offering me a free copy in exchange for a review, I felt a little apprehensive. I had already received two books thus from first-time authors and, I must say, both works ended up being dismal. While it is not correct to brush away someone’s hard work thus, the reader in me couldn’t stomach those books and I ended up panning them both. With those experiences at the back of my mind, I agreed to read this book reluctantly. But whatever hesitation I had about reading this work got dispelled as soon as the book began.

Before I get further, here’s the plot – the young Swami Parthiban becomes the leader of a spiritual organization at the ‘demise’ of the elder, Swami Parmanand. Soon after he takes over the mantle of the ‘ashram’, he asks his disciples to undertake a pilgrimage with him to a nearby holy town, with no possessions of any kind, except a change of clothes. He says that such a pilgrimage will teach them to live light, like the sparrows, without all the mental and emotional baggage and evolve spiritually. The book elaborates on the events throughout the pilgrimage, through the words of two of the pilgrims  – Nikhil, a rich NRI whose family life has fallen apart, and Sanjeev, a private detective recruited to prove that Swami Parthiban is nothing but a fraud, moonlighting as a spiritual guru.

Nikhil and Sanjeev narrate the first two chapters, recounting the perspectives, perceptions and eventual spiritual changes that overcame the group as a whole, apart from them as individuals. While Nikhil gets to learn more and more about the purpose of life and changes into a better human being, Sanjeev clears his bitterness and suspicions – arising out of his own past experiences - to end up as a real disciple of Swami Parthiban. The third chapter recounts how the young and hapless Parthiban ended up heading the globally celebrated – and abundantly rich – spiritual organization, from the unenviable life of hiding from the creditors baying for his blood. The fourth and final chapter though undoes all the good work done by the authors in the previous three chapters. Sounding more like an anti-climax of the Indian movies, it will make you wonder whether the authors were in a hurry to finish the book.

Parthiban is not your run-of-the-mill spiritual guru, speaking only in esoteric puzzles and preaching impractical ideals. All ‘his’ ideas are simple, worthy and touch a chord in your mind. That is sure to endear him to you. Thrust into the high pedestal suddenly, he has a foot on the higher path and the other on the mundane ways of life. Such a depiction makes his words sound more real and practical. His flaws, fears, idiosyncrasies and eventual spiritual evolution are all well captured. The writing has a smooth, flowing quality about it. The characters all seem as real as your neighbourhood personas. The ideas are all absolutely lovely.

Though the book is categorized as ‘Fiction’, I am keeping it between the ‘Self-Help’ and ‘Spirituality’ sections of my home library, because it tries to give you the best of both worlds. As good as Robin Sharma’s ‘The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari’, this is a book that I would recommend/gift to all my friends. Who knows?! I myself may pick it up every now and then, choose some random page and ruminate upon the good ideas found in there. Kudos to the authors for coming good on their very first book!

The Nest

Ever since childhood, I have seen various 'winged guests' visit our home. They always arrived uninvited (but definitely not unwanted), made their little homes within our home, took up as little space as possible, built their homes with straw, thread, twigs and any other riffraff they could lay their hands, er... claws upon.

They shared food, made love, threw tiny garbage around, quarreled, laid eggs, caused ruckus and then, one fine day, left without bidding adieu. The only rent they paid was through their chirps and songs. At times, they did leave behind poems too as gifts - either with me or my father.

The new addition to the list of such 'uninvited guests' is the tailor-birds. Choosing the red spot croton's long leaves for their cosy homes, intricately stitching its leaves together, making it fluffy with foam and threads found elsewhere, they have built their own little home inside our home. Wonder what they will leave behind as rent this time!

Love Isn't...

 

Love isn't when you need someone to make you happy. Love is when you want someone to be happy. Simply.

Love isn't when someone's curves and complexion excite you. Love is when their very presence gives you absolute peace.

Love isn't about simply staying together. It is about being together even after Time and Distance cleave you away from one another's arms.

If it doesn't make you feel grateful for a person's presence in your life, fill your heart to the brim and make it flow through the eyes, it isn't Love! 💕

Nature & Perfection 💗

Enchantingly beautiful peacocks make unbearably hoarse cries, but the cuckoos of glorious songs are less than ordinary in appearance.

The all-nourishing Sun is unbearably hot, whereas the mellowing Moon is neither a reliable source of light nor can it support life.

The divine and healing Tulsi stays humbly close to the ground, while the simply showy bougainvilleas are pampered in rich houses.

The vast, overflowing ocean can't offer even a drop of water to quench the thirst, whereas pure water is found even in pits not deeper than one's own palms.

Nature does not care for 'perfection'. Everything in Nature is as it should be. Everything in Nature is perfect the way it is. Everything in Nature is perfect by just 'being'! 💗

Book Review – milk and honey, Rupi Kaur

‘the very thought of you
has my legs spread apart
like an easel with a canvas
begging for art’

When a female friend of mine shared this poem with me, I winced. Receiving stuff of sensual nature is by itself something that I am not quite comfortable with, but here is this poem, sent to me by a female friend. What both aggravated and doused my uncomfortable feeling was my getting to know that the author of this poem was a woman herself. Reading through the lines again I understood that her words exude not just eroticism but a sense of deep esotericism as well. Her words emanate from the longing, a deep pain, searing loneliness and flowing love – all things that I myself can relate with and connect soulfully too.
 

Immediately I ordered for the book online. From the moment I received the book in my hand and opened it, to the moment I closed it this morning, it was one hell of a ride through the dark corners of my heart. Dealing with lust, longing, love, pain of betrayal, self-love, letting go, hurt, healing, feminism and acceptance, this is a book that every introvert, every aching heart and every one that still believes in that quaint concept called ‘love’ must read.
 

Her words are the magical runes that any heart capable of love would respond to. They touch the raw nerves of our inner-selves, bringing to light all those unhealed wounds of the heart that we have learnt to live with, stir up all those dark passions that we keep buried deep beneath the hypocritical facades of politeness and public perceptions about ourselves. With her, you don’t get to feel the servile yearnings of a Kamala Das or the aggression of a Taslima Nasrin shelling out satires about the grapes gone sour. Here is a woman who feels love and writes about it, as deeply and as passionately as a Pablo Neruda or as a Kahlil Gibran also can. She loves, she yearns, she crumbles, she weeps about the loss, but she also picks up her pieces and puts them back together, but this time only more firmly.
 

Here is a real feminist that doesn’t talk about her body and her desires with a feigned sense of supremacy or acrimonious misandry. There is no vulgarity when she writes about her lust. You feel no revulsion when she talks about the inner functions of female body. She doesn’t preach promiscuity in the name of freedom. She takes pride in what she is. She doesn’t accede to the preset conventions of feminine beauty. She doesn’t pay obeisance to patriarchy. Here is a poetess we can all fall in love with, not just for her words, but for all that she is – her fears, her pains, her strengths, her weaknesses, her courage, for her being the person that she is. Each poem here is a colorful thread, seeing which you will be able to perceive a beautiful tapestry - that is her adorable personality!
 

This is a book that will leave you craving for more – like a perfect session of passionate love-making!

Book Review – The Very Best of the Common Man, R.K.Laxman

Politics! 

Said to be the second oldest profession in the world, bearing a close resemblance to the first, politics has always been subjected to searing scrutiny and bitter ridicule. Especially in a highly populated country like India, politicians have been offering a lot of free ‘entertainment’ to the public, next only to cinema and cricket. Stupid statements, senseless actions, scams, and scandals – you ask for it and the Indian politicians only feel obliged to deliver it for your ‘pleasure’.
 

Cartoonists are that rare breed of people who make the caricatured images of theirs speak more than a thousand acerbic words mocking the actions of the politicians. Especially those cartons that appear daily in the newspapers seem like the oasis amidst all the chaotic news articles. R.K. Laxman is the doyen of the cartoonist profession in India. Having had a prolific career that spanned more than half a century, he is one cartoonist who can really claim to have seen it all and drawn it all.
 

This book contains some hundred plus cartoons of Laxman that have withstood the test of time. A mere glimpse at the cartoons and you will realize that our politicians have remained as pretentious, as egoistic, and as dumb as ever. Indulgence in boastful talks, broken promises, opportunistic behaviors have all been the bane of Indian politicians always. Hence some of the satiric jibes that Mr.Laxman had aimed at the politicians of old remain relevant enough for our ‘leaders’ of these days as well.
 

Leaders that visit their constitutions only during election campaigns, who don’t think twice before throwing senseless percentages and figures without showing any real progress on ground, the servile acolytes who need to flatter their bosses even during their visits to places hit by natural disasters – Laxman has drawn them all, keeping his ‘Common Man’ – a lovable bald old man – as a silent observer.
 

Just a complaint though. The cartoons have all been published on one side while the opposite side is used for a caption of only a line or two. Either they have opted to present the book so due to the poor, thin quality of the paper that could have made the images on different pages look overlapping and thus messy. Or, they could have done so to make this book appear in a decent size. But this seems to be a blatant wastage that the publishers could have very much avoided.
 

As for the content, a thoroughly enjoyable book and a collector’s treasure!

Book Review - The Japanese Wife, Kunal Basu

Recently, when I was talking to a friend of mine about my love for the almost-lost art of letter-writing and my desire to recreate that habit among my friends, she told me about the movie 'The Japanese Wife'. It is the story of a simple school teacher from Bengal, who befriends a Japanese woman over letters. They strengthen their bond through letters and soon end up exchanging marital vows through letters. They don't come to meet one another and live together even after their 'marriage' through letters. After spending almost a long time thus, the woman whom the school teacher should originally have got married to, were it not for his love for his foreign wife, arrives back in his house, with her son borne through another husband. The subtle emotional changes that happen in the relationship between the long-distance couple and the eventual 'end' are the rest of the story.

The moment my friend from abroad described this tale, I felt quite moved and immediately searched to find whether the movie was based on any book. The moment I found that it was, I ordered the book. But only then did I find out that it was only a short story. Well, if such an intense plot could be offered in such a tiny package, won't that make an even more interesting read? Also, if the first tale itself could be such a beauty, won't the rest of the tales in the book make for a feast?! It was with these expectations in my mind that I bought the book. But it turned out to be one of the most insipid books that I have read in recent times.

Except the titular story and to some extent another tale - The Accountant - the rest don't tug much at the reader's heart at all. Of course, the tales are all unique and portray a whole gamut of human emotions. But it is the writing style that fails the book. There are some tales that feel too lengthy to hold your attention throughout. The author's attempt at making the reader feel in place of the plot by making use of various cultural references and jargon is a failure too. Some of the stories sound like either they are incomplete or run-of-mill melodrama.

Some interesting, some OK-ish, but mostly insipid. To sum it up, this is a book that I would not buy for my friends.

பாரதிக்கா சாதிப்பற்று?

நேற்று இரவிலிருந்து மனதை பிசைந்து கொண்டிருக்கும் ஒரு நிகழ்வு இது. இதை என் எழுத்துக்கள் மூலமாக வெளிப்படுத்தி மனதை தேற்றிக் கொள்ளாவிட்டால் இந்த வேதனை குறையாது என்பதால் மட்டுமே இதை எழுதுகிறேன். யாரையும் பற்றி விமர்சிக்க வேண்டும் என்பது என் நோக்கமல்ல.

காந்தியை இழிவாகப் பேசுவது அறிவுக்கான ஒரு அடையாளம் என்பது போல் ஆகி விட்ட காலம் இது. ஒரு சமயம் வரை அவரது நிறை குறைகள் இரண்டையுமே எடுத்துக் காட்டி அவருக்கு பரிந்து பேசிப் பேசி, பின் சலித்துப் போய் நானும் இவர்கள் எப்படி வேண்டுமானாலும் பேசிக் கொள்ளட்டும் என்று விட்டு விட்டேன். ஆனால் இப்போதைய இலக்கு மாறிவிட்டது போலும். இப்போது இந்த அறிவு ஜீவிகள் பெருங்கவி பாரதியிடம் குறை காண ஆரம்பித்திருக்கிறார்கள்.

சமீபத்தில் நான் கலந்து கொண்ட ஒரு இலக்கிய விழாவில் முக்கிய பேச்சாளர் ஒருவர் பேசும்போது 'பாஞ்சாலி சபதத்தில்' இருந்து ஒரு வரியை சுட்டிக்காட்டி அது பாரதியின் சாதி மேலாதிக்க எண்ணங்களை குறிப்பதாக பேசினார்.

அவர் சொன்ன வரி இதுதான் -
"வேள்விப் பொருளினையே - புலைநாயின் முன்
மென்றிட வைப்பவர் போல"

இதில் அவர் வசதியாக முதல் வரியை மட்டும் சொல்லி, புலையர்கள் என்பவர்கள் கேரளத்தை சார்ந்த ஒடுக்கப்பட்ட சாதியினர் எனவும், பாரதி அவர்களை இழிவுபடுத்தி எழுதி இருப்பதாகவும், அதைச் சொன்னால் 'பாரதி பக்தர்கள்' ஒப்புக்கொள்ள மாட்டார்கள் எனவும் ஏளனம் தொனிக்கவே பேசினார்.

கோபத்துடன் அவருக்கு பதில் சொல்ல எழுந்த நான், ஏதோ ஒரு தயக்கத்தில் அமர்ந்து விட்டேன். ஆனால், நேற்று இரவு முதல் மனது மிகவும் வருந்திக்கொண்டிருக்கிறது. அந்தக் கவிஞனைக் கூடவா நீங்கள் வசை பாடத் தொடங்கி விட்டீர்கள்?!

புலையர் என்பது வேட்டைத் தொழில் செய்பவர்களைக் குறிக்கும் ஒரு வார்த்தை. வேட்டையாடுபவர்கள் எப்பொதும் நாய்களை உடன் வைத்திருப்பார்கள். அந்த நாய்களின் வேலையே வேட்டையாடப்படும் மிருகங்களை விரட்டிப் பிடிக்க உதவுவதும், வீழ்த்தப்பட்ட மிருகங்களை வாயில் கவ்வி எடுத்து வருவதும் தான். பொதுவாக வீட்டில் பூஜை அல்லது வேள்வி நடந்தால் அந்த உணவை முதலில் காக்கைக்கோ அல்லது பசுவுக்கோ தான் வழங்குவார்கள். யார் வீட்டிலும் பூஜை செய்த உணவை நாய்க்குப் படைக்க மாட்டார்கள். அதுவுமின்றி வேட்டை நாய் என்பது அசுத்தமாக கருதப்பட்ட விலங்கு. அதனிடம் யாரும் பிரசாதத்தை கொடுப்பார்களா?

'யாகப்பொருள் போல் புனிதமான பாஞ்சாலியை வேட்டை நாய்கள் போன்ற கவுரவர்கள் கையில் பந்தயம் வைத்து தோற்றான்' என்ற பாரதியின் சாதாரணமான உவமையை இதை விட மோசமாகத் திரித்துப்பேச முடியுமா என்ன??? ஜாதி வெறியும் பெண்ணடிமைத் தனமும் மேலோங்கிய காலத்தில் எம் பாரதி செய்த புரட்சிகளை இதை விடவா உதாசீனமாக உமிழ முடியும்?! இதே பாரதி ப்ராமணராக  இல்லாதிருந்தால் அவரது வார்த்தைகளுக்கு இப்படி தவறான ஒரு அர்த்தம் கற்பிக்கப்பட்டிருக்குமா என்று தெரியவில்லை.

அய்யாக்களே, அறிவு ஜீவிகளே, நீங்கள் உங்கள் ஜாதித் தலைவரை எப்படி வேண்டுமானாலும் ஆராதியுங்கள், பேரறிவாளர்களாகப் போற்றிக்கொள்ளுங்கள், இந்து மதத்தையும் இழிவு செய்து கொள்ளுங்கள். ஆனால், பாரதி போன்ற ஒரு சில ஜீவன்களையாவது விட்டு வையுங்கள். என் போன்ற நிறைய பேர் சாதி மதங்களைத் தாண்டி மனித நேயம் பாராட்ட விழைவதற்கும், பெண்களை மதித்து வாழ விரும்புவதற்கும் பாரதி ஒரு காரணம். அவரை குறைநோக்கம் உடையவராகக் காட்டி உங்கள் தலைவர்களை மேம்படுத்திக் கொள்ள எண்ணுவது கயமைத்தனம்.