Idyllic Thoughts

I am retracting with some satisfaction my statement that our Cabinet is old. To me it doesn't matter which party comes to power, as long as the persons in power do their job. And I presume it is the same with the majority of educated people in the land who care to have an opinion about politics. The young have entered the Colosseum of politics; they may choose to look in the eye of the lions called corruption or hug them as allies.  Most youth leaders like Agatha Sangma (daughter of P.A. Sangma and youngest Minister), Sachin Pilot, Praneet Kaur (wife of former Punjab CM Amarinder Singh) belong to political families. It is to be presumed that they are well-versed in the political game. Our eyes and hope must reside on new entrants like Shashi Tharoor. But once entered, he too may get sucked into the whirlpool of diplomacy. We, the ever-hopefuls, wait for change; it doesn't really matter which party brings it, with good intentions of course.  

I was reading Chetan Bhagat's 'One night @ the call centre' this morning. He has used some interesting words and phrases in his book. His observations are also quite interesting. He wonders why politicians never commit suicide when housewives, businessmen, employees and even film stars commit suicide. He himself answers that people commit suicide when they are hurt. But politicians never get hurt because they have no feelings. And this country is run by people who don't feel anything at all. Interesting. Why should they feel nothing? I presume (!) they are human, because a person who was in the midst of us yesterday entered politics today. It is not that they do not have feelings. It is just that when dealing with lakhs of people, they just turn into figures and statistics, to percentages without a face. How can you feel anything towards a graph or a percentage, a mathematical figure? How can you give birth to a feeling towards a faceless, body less mass? It happe

Yesterday I watched the swearing-in ceremony of the new Cabinet for 15th Lok Sabha. I waited after each Minister swore in that the next one would be a fresh, young face. Well, I was disappointed, so also the other million people who watched it, I presume. One Minister was in a hurry, may be fearing he may miss the chance or the high command may change mind, and even forgot to sign the registry after the oath. Another was in crutches. He needed help, how can he lead a country?; The third was bowing profusely to the decision-makers of the party. She never stood straight till she sat back in her seat. If they do not have the capability to stand up and face the audience at a simple ceremony, how can we expect them to stand up and lead against enemies, internal or otherwise? They are just slaves of a few in power, how can they be the masters? All those who took the oath yesterday were old, with wavering voice, stooped shoulders and tired and cluttered minds. Our country doesn't have th

I read a lot. In fact, my family and some of my teachers used to tell me it was too much. The few times I refrained from reading were while sleeping (of course) and bathing. I read while eating, travelling, walking on the road and even while watching TV. It's a form of obsession, I guess. Even if I don't find time or opportunity to read, there would be a book in my hand. I once finished Jane Eyre in a marriage hall, sitting in front of the ongoing marriage ceremony, oblivious to the din around. Now, the latest book I finished reading (and worthwhile mentioning) is Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead. Saying that it is a wonderful book is an understatement. It must be the first time in my reading career that I encountered a book I didn't despise because of rousing emotions in me, making me cry. I liked classics and read them but also secretly dreaded them because I hated my own emotional reaction afterwards. This book was, however, something I couldn't hate and couldn'

One of our former Chief Ministers stayed at a village home as part of his ' Grama Vastavya ' programme. The local leaders had urgently constructed a toilet room at the house before his stay. Now, after he stayed there for a night and left, the residents have removed the toilet and converted it into a pooja room. They say they don't need a toilet inside their house and they are used to using open area. Anyway, they are right in a way. It is part of their lifestyle and having a toilet inside their house is against their beliefs.  Why should we consider what is followed by us (majority) to be true and universally applicable? Why is it considered that we are civilized and those who do not follow our culture is uncivilized and pagans? They may be more civilized than us for all we know. And what is civilization? Is it wearing trendy clothes, high heels, sophisticated talk, leaving the food in the plate even when we are hungry, drinking alcohol just because it is protocol....?

May Day is devoted for the working class around the world. Now, all everyone does on the day is close their business, go home and relax. Some demonstrations, protests and rallies are held symbolically and that is it. I don't see major resloutions adopted or changes brought about in the workers' lives. They are back to drudgery of their work the day after. Major industrial establishments declared holiday yesterday but the one of the real working class- the postmen and women went about their duty cycling in the scorching sun. To them, improvement came after a long time by means of bicycles in place of walking miles. Those postmen and now even women have been taken granted for so many years by us all, even grumbling if they did not arrive on time, not seeing the hot sun, rain and cold they had to endure. A middle aged postman used to come to my house for some time. He used to ask us to call down those who resided in the first floor for signing registered posts. One day, when mom