Enemy Under My Roof!

1990 AD: The times were turbulent, the early 90’s. As a young man taking baby steps towards building a career in a city which Rajiv Gandhi once famously called the dying city. The life of a Salesman in a market which thanks to decades of imperialism of the Left Front was tough, very tough. As a youngster trying to transform my life hoping the Govt of the day in Calcutta or the one in Delhi would drive growth and opportunities, all I got was a potpourri of political turmoil caused by corrupt politicians, self seeking messiahs of the backward castes, people peddling Revolution of the Proletariat.  And jumping right into the cauldron were yet another set of ‘desh bhakts’ who insisted on ‘Mandir wahin banayenge’!

Mandir Wahin Banayenge!

I was then living in a locality which was physically divided right down the middle between the Hindu side and the Muslim side by the great G.T.Road.  It was easy for my young and impressionable mind which was reared on poor order-books and pressures in the business front and the sheer squalor and filth that one saw in the hugely populated ‘Muslim basti’ to volunteer and donate hundred bricks to an organization  collecting the same to build the grand temple for Ram in Ayodhya. The unchecked infiltrator from across the eastern border being the primary reason for all that was wrong with my life and the country.

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Drishti pariharam Taaveez

1998 AD: My daughter was a sickly child. Once she was born my donations to temples and other causes close to my heart dropped drastically as all the spare cash and some more were donated to the well being of the neighbourhood MBBS. As multiple visits to the Doctor and the variety of concoctions that he prescribed failed to give any permanent cure, I was at my wits end. That is when I was prescribed an age old treatment in practice in many villages of Tamil Nadu. The man who donated bricks to build temples in a disputed area walked into the nearby Masjid dutifully to conduct a ‘drishti pariharam’ on my baby! And walked out with a ‘taaveez’ tied around her midriff.

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2000 AD: He was a Muslim, a Malayalee, from Bombay. I was a Hindu, a Tamil, from Calcutta. And we met up as colleagues in Bangalore! Circumstances then threw us together and we ended up temporarily sharing the same house in Chennai. And as you would expect the scenario was one of immense dichotomy. A Hindu thrown together with the ‘enemy’ Muslim. Was it vice-versa too? I don't know, he never gave me any clues. A strict vegetarian sharing kitchen with a beef eater.  A teetotaler (he) breaking bread with someone who enjoyed the occasional drink (me). A Mallu and a Tamil under the same roof! Facts are stranger than fiction as they say. Thrown together in a city that was then friendless and unknown to both of us!  Circumstances threw us together and who could fight circumstances. The first thing that broke the ice between us was Marlboro! We were both smokers! And when not on work, we spoke the same language, Hindi! From then onwards, me waiting outside any random Mosque in Chennai till he finished his prayers or he being dragged to a pure vegetarian Iyer Mess took just about that much time. A new Sunday routine was also established. I buying him non-veg food and he buying me my weekly quota of beers. We shared our rooms for about six months or so till I shifted to a new house with my family. It was around the time of parting that I realized that the man who donated 100 bricks to build a temple to spite the ‘enemy’ was long dead! And the ‘enemy’ to date is one among my best ‘friends’!

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PS: Once while travelling together with him by train from Mangalore to Chennai, he would speak to other people in Malayalam and I in Tamil. A curious co-passenger was annoyed that we were however speaking to each other in Hindi. How was this person to know that while my friend spoke no Tamil, I spoke no Malayalam! Mera Bharat Mahaan!

Glossary:

Desh bhakts : Patriots

Mandir wahin banayenge : Will build the temple right at that spot

Basti : Locality

Masjid : Mosque

Drishti pariharam : Ward off evil eye

Taaveez : Amulet

Mera Bharat Mahaan : India is great

What ails INC!

The spate of election defeats in the recent and not so recent past both at state levels as well as Centre has reduced the once behemoth like Indian National Congress to the levels of also-rans in most of the political map of India. Suffices to say that there has to be something more than just anti incumbency at work here. For a party which much to everyone's surprise sent the NDA govt packing in '04 and then surprised everyone again by retaining power at the Centre in the past decade, it is indeed a sad commentary to be reduced to 44 seats in the Lok Sabha. All this boils down to one question, What ails Indian National Congress (INC)?

Obsolete like cyclostyling?

INC today faces some of its toughest days ahead. A brand which started off as a virtual monopoly at the time of independence, its current status where its very relevance is questioned is a story worth telling. It is not that INC has lost its relevance, it still enjoys a substantial voteshare pan India and its core values of development of all, including the last man is still a work in progress in this country. To give you an analogy, INC does not find itself where Cyclostyling Machines or Electronic Typewriters find themselves, obsolete due to the advancement of technology. What ails INC primarily is brand fatigue. An example of how some of the oldest brands have tackled fatigue is Uniliver and its brand Lux. Lux from time immemorial has been promoted as a beauty soap. Remember the famous tagline 'Filmy sitaron ka saundarya saabun'? Where Lux has been different is through constant churn of  'New faces' to endorse the brand it has positioned itself as a contemporary brand without losing its core values. INC needs to rejuvenate itself with programmes which will make it contemporary and find traction with new voters.

Youth, Icon or Youth Icon?

The other issue which INC seems to have missed sight of is what is called the 'Young India'. Given the demographics, India populace is nearest to what the Americans once called themselves, the Baby Boomers. Voters who are of the post libaralization era, aspirational, ambitious and in a tearing hurry. The INC from an unaffiliated voter's perspective appears to be steeped in the License-quota-Subsidy era while the voters have moved on. While a well targeted subsidy scheme still has an important place in Indian society steeped in inequality, the presentation of just this aspect without appearing to address the concerns of the youth of India has led to a disconnect with the largest growing segment among Indian Voters, the middle class. A possible way to crack this issue, one may look at Pepsi. Pepsi has positioned itself against a well entrenched Coke through what is known as 'Youth' platform. And has gone about recruiting brand ambassadors who the target consumers are attracted to. The difference is Pepsi has dropped stars like Sachin Tendulkar, Shah Rukh Khan and the likes to latch on to the next youth icon on the horizon, Dhoni to Kohli and Ranbir Kapoor. All this while, the fact remains Tendulkar and Khan are still some of the biggest draws in India, the only hitch, they are no longer 'youth'. INC needs to reiterate its commitment to all sections of the voters, young and middle class included by churning out programmes of their concern too in a language which is less of a sermon and more 'Happening'. And age of the leadership is a non issue. Remember Rahul Gandhi is lot younger than Narendra Modi and yet the voters endorsed the later overwhelmingly.

Who is the next Regional Manager?

Any marketer worth his pay check will tell you that a strong distribution is a key to acquire/gain/improve/retain marketshare. A robust team spread across the length and breadth of the market delivering superior services at the convenience of the customer makes successful brands. While a product may face competition from a 'me-too', a well oiled delivery mechanism helps reach more customers and create entry barriers for the 'me-too'. While start ups like Kavin Care innovate with products and packaging, the larger MNCs copy the same and go national in no time. Distribution to a political party is the organization at grassroot level, in electoral terms at booth level. When was the last time you heard of an INC win due to this strength. Today it is the BJP which is making more noise in its attempt to enroll new members while being in power in half of India and at the Centre! The other part of the market infrastructure is the regional/state level leadership. In markets where you lose ground, it is difficult to regain the market share without a Regional Manager/ Zonal Manager who can stem the rot, regroup the team, strategize and  push forward its agenda of becoming market leader again. It is not as difficult as it appears. Remember despite BJP retaining power in Gujrat three times spread over a decade, INC still enjoys a 40%+ voteshare in the state. One well thought out, well coordinated push and INC could be back in power in Gandhinagar. A 5% swing towards INC might end in a windfall for it in a two horse race.

No longer top of the mind!

The last thing INC would hope is for the ennui to set in deep. Remember Lacto Calamine? The once market leader in the skin care segment is now rarely visible on the shelves replaced as it is by newer enterants. While brands like Surf/Wheel took on the upstarts like Nirma to flower further, Lacto Calamine is no longer the top of the mind brand in its core segment. When INC doesn't fight back, regional/local parties occupy the space vacated by it. The old market dictum is that the No.1 and No.2 brands are in the reckoning for spoils and No.3 and others make up the numbers. It has happened to INC in many a state, could well happen in others!


Finally as yet another market dictum goes, marketshare doesn't  come easily. It calls for single minded approach like that of a rifle and patience of a vulture!

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 PS: The other way for INC to come back to relevance is by allowing BJP to commit enough mistakes and wait for the anti-establishment votes!

Glossary:

Filmy sitaron ka saundarya saabun : Beauty Soap of Filmstars!

Sing Baby Sing!

Whatever our differences, nothing unites India like Songs do. Whatever the region, language or religion, music plays an important; nay integral part in our lives. Right through one’s life, from birth and the three stages of it and finally death, Indians have a song for every stage of it. And more than one song for every occasion of one’s life.  From a “Happy budday ttoo you Sunita” on the day you are born to “O Jaanewaale ho sake to laut ke aana” enroute to your last rites! Be it a festival, be it a season, be it various times of a day, be it hard labour or labour of love, be it success or be it failure. In short any sphere of human activity and we are just one song away from it.

Indian Music encompasses virtually everything from the deepest oceans to the tallest mountains.  Whatever the genre, we are spoilt for choice.  From Carnatic to Hindusthani to even an Ilayaraja symphony. From Ghazals to Thumris to Khayals to Geet to Nazm to Qawwalis to what have yous! An honest confession here. I can hardly spell Carnatic or Hindusthani. As regards the others mentioned above and million others not mentioned I can make them out from one another with great difficulty or as in most cases not at all. Yet! And yet as I said earlier I am one song away from anything and everything, thanks to Indian Cinema!

Suffices if I say that Indian Cinema is not Indian Cinema without its songs! In its earliest avatar, Indian Cinema was essentially a series of songs strung together with a few dialogues which lead to more songs. No wonder Indian Cinemas’ earliest stars were people who were singer-actors. Once playback singing came about, the actors who made it large were the ones who could lip sync to perfection! I don’t think Rajendra Kumar would have made it big but for his ability to emote so successfully in Mohd. Rafi’s voice to quote just one instance. On second thoughts, Rajendra Kumar’s son Kumar Gauravs’ claim to fame was his ability to do his father in Amit Kumar’s voice!  Such are the impact and importance of songs in our films that a taut espionage thriller ‘Andha Naal’ starring the then superstar of Tamil Cinema Sivaji Ganesan, flopped at the box office because it featured no song and the audience felt cheated!

Where are the songs?

Given the fact that I am a self proclaimed music critic, I am now going to propound my views on this act and art. And since I have already hooked you beyond the cursory two paragraphs, you have no choice but to hear me out! Also given the fact that I am not too well versed with the grammar of music, its various traditions, its nuances, its finesse etc., I stay away from the routine classification of singers viz, Carnatic or Hindusthani or Pop or light music and I thus draw my own classification of singers. The first category of singers as far as I am concerned are people who spend years in mastering the universe of music, its every note, its every bar to ultimately receive the grace of Goddess Saraswati herself. The next category are people who are not trained in music but achieve stardom through sheer natural talent and genius. The third category are people whose only qualification as singers is that they claim to be one! But my most favourite category are what I call ‘Bathroom Singers’! People who have talent but no avenue or wherewithal to translate it into success due to either their inability to struggle, for want of a lucky break or simply the middle class mentality. And hence they end up plying their trade within the confines of their bathrooms or office parties/picnics or Kalyana Nelangu levels as a hobby. Without taking away anything from them, maybe they were born a few generations too early from the days of Super Singers, Indian Idols and Sa Re Ga Ma!

One genre of music which has always held in utter dread is what we Indian generically refer to as Western Music. I have never been worried if I can’t distinguish between Rock, Pop, Jazz, Country, Rap or what have yous. What has often worried me is my inability to distinguish whether it is a man or a women singing. On second thoughts it could well be a machine doing it! 

And to round off this discussion, I am not only a self proclaimed music critic I hereby declare that I am a singer too! So check this out!

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PS: Did you know that once Mohd Rafi sang playback for Kishore Kumar?  In the film Ragini!

Glossary:

Kalyana Nelangu: An family event in Tamil Weddings.

Dancing Peacocks and Danish Bar!

15.11.2014, 5.30 AM:

Ola Cabs messages saying the cab I booked has arrived before schedule and I can leave early should I wish. They also compliment me with an upgrade to a sedan. Good Morning indeed!

15.11.2014, 6 AM:

A spic and span Coimbatore Junction anbudan welcomes me! Even the tracks are bereft of you know what we find on railway tracks in most Indian station early in the morning! This I am told is not an exception or a photo-op for Swachch Bharat Abhiyan.  Sorry to disappoint you Modiji, this is the hygiene workers earning their honest bread. Bravo Coimbatore!

Swachch Coimbatore Abhiyaan!

15.11.2014, 7 AM:

Unlike the Coimbatore Junction, the Coimbatore-Mayiladhuthurai Jan Shatabdi express presents a poor picture. Run down coaches, wet washrooms and the stink. The coach I travel in doesn’t have a garbage bin to boot, the place allotted instead to stock the stale and tepid breakfast parcels. Note: Please carry breakfast from home or buy a parcel from Annapurna before boarding the train. And skip the watery liquid masquerading as coffee!

15.11.2014, 1 PM:

The train is late. A growling stomach forces you to detrain at Kumbakonam instead. A full fledged saappadu later, SETC ride to Mayiladuthurai is undertaken. A 50 odd KMs ride for just Rs.21.00. Well done! The bus could have however seen a doctor before plying I felt. The other highlight is a single lane state highway. Single lane yes but as with most roads in Tamil Nadu well maintained. A sort of Single lane- toll free- expressway!

Nagore 

(For those who came in late: The entire stretch of coastal Tamilnadu from Chennai through Pondycherry- Cuddalore- Chidambaram- Mayiladuthurai- Kumbakonam- Thanjavur to Trichirapalli is a veritable treasure trove of ancient temples and architectural wonders. A detour from the highway every few kilometers on either side takes you to further more equally ancient and equally wonderful temples. The standing quip is that it takes two lifetimes to visit all the places of religious importance in this region. And while at it how can one be far away from the very Idea of India. Among the various pilgrimage routes is the one from Mayiladuthurai to Thirukadaiyur, a holy town for Hindus, to Nagore, the city of the famous Dargah built over the tomb of the Sufi Saint Hazrath Nagore Shahul Hamid. Also the birthplace of Singer Hanifa who sang Islamic devotional songs in Tamil, and right down to Velankanni, the city of the holy Catholic Church dedicated to Our Lady Of Good Health.  Yes! This is India! Despite the efforts of fundamentalist of various hues, we are like this only!)

Thirukadaiyur

Velankanni

16.11.2014, 9 AM:

One of the most expensive taxi rides takes me to Tranquebar! Not a bar literally but a Danish name for the lyrical Tamil name Tharangampadi! The site of the Danish landing and trading centre in India in early 17th century post an agreement between the Danes and the Maratha King Raghunatha Nayak, of Thanjavur. The highlight of Tranquebar is the majestic Danish Fort built right on the beach adjacent to the Masilamaninathar Temple. A part of the fort is now converted into an Indo-Danish Museum. I will stop the narrative and let the pictures speak instead.  

Danish Fort, Tharagampadi Aka Tranquebar!

16.11.2014, 1 PM:

Among the heart breaking sights is the so called renovation/restoration being done by the Archeological survey of Tamil Nadu and the Archeological Survey of India to the Masilamaninathar shore temple. I don’t know whom to credit this disaster but once again let the picture speak for themselves!

Yeppadi Irundha Naan..............

Ippadi ayittaen!!!!

16.11.2014, 8PM:

Why do all European town be it French, Portugese or Danish exude the same look? This could well be a street in Panjim, Pondicherry or Tranquebar!

Panjim, Pondicherry or..............!

16.11.2014, 10 PM:

Onwards Ho to Coimbatore with Rathi and Meena for company!

Rathi and Meena!

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PS: Mayiladuthurai literally means Land of dancing peacocks! How is that for poetry in a name! Thanks @ndranandraj!

Glossary:

Anbudan: With love
Swachch Bharat Abhiyan : Clean India Campaign
Sappadu: Tamil Nadu Full Meals.
Yeppadi Irundha naan, ippadi ayittaen : How I was and what I have become!

ON/OFF!

The recent churn of events in the retail sector of India has turned conventional logic topsy turvy. No, I don't refer to the on now, off now, piecemeal legislation on FDI in retail sector. I don't mean the oft repeated discussion about giant retailers swallowing the Mom & Pop stores. What has caused the churn is the latest disruptor in town the online retailers. Old hat in most developed countries, online retailing is making a splash in India and how. 

Post the plethora of deep discount offers dished out by the fledgling online retails armed with VC funded deep pockets, the first reactions I heard from the bricks-n-mortar store owners was that the new demon attacking the markets from cyberspace was indulging in unfair trade practice! Reminds me of "Frog eat insects, Snake eat Frog" story from Indian folklore! Flashback to a few years and you will see how the "Big retail" defended their right to "deep discount" on the back of volumes and VC funded deep pockets!

Cybermarket War!

However selfish the arguments of the Offline businesses may sound fact remains that Online retail given its wider reach, low overheads (in the long run), 24*7 timings and sheer convenience it offers is a adversary worthy of a digging in and fighting. Rather than bring in pressure through political lobbying and crying foul   about imaginary malpractices, the offline stores must look at ways n means to compete against a business model which offers value to a consumer. 

First things first. It would possibly be foolhardy for Offline stores to compete with e-tailers on convenience plank. They can probably on discounts but beyond a point below the belt pricing is a zero sum game or a me-too! So trying to ape online benefits in an offline environment can only take you thus far and no further.

Me-Too Discounts!

Learn from Lalaji/Sethji/Nadaranne!

A smart retailer today must offer what is possibly the most critical differentiator and in turn the crucial shortcoming of the online retailers, shopping experience. Shopping in India is more than just bargain hunting; it is the sheer pleasure of hunting for the bargain which gives us the high! Shopping is a family outing, a time pass, a relaxation, a hobby. Offline Retailers must today present a store which must enhance the 'Experience' element while shopping. Nice and friendly decors, easy to access displays, convenient zoning, sufficient parking etc are a given. The key to success is to offer all these concrete elements with the personal touch of a Lalaji/Sethji. Make the consumer feel important, wanted and welcome. Be patient with multiple 'trials', suggest the products best suited, hang around to help   without being overbearing, be polite yet friendly. Post sales ensure to deliver the best in the industry after sales service. In short do what the friendly neighborhood 'Nadar Maligai' has perfected over centuries, make the customer feel like the King that he/she is! Remember every customer is a human being first. Treat them like the way you would like to be treated and you have a business good enough to beat any competition, offline and online.

Customer!

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PS: If the Lalajis/Sethjis could withstand the competition from Ambanis/Biyanis, they can well withstand the Flipkarts/Amazons etc. Like cockroaches, mosquitoes, Rats and Mallus, they are invincible!

Glossary:

Lalaji/Sethji/Nadar Maligai: Popular euphemism for ‘Local’ Businesses/Retailers. 

Malang Man!

Gully cricket! Those who have played it know it has uniqueness written all over it. The rules of the game are as varied as the gully themselves. And the only common one among those varied rules is the absence of a Cricket copybook. Not for us the coaching manuals. You struck the rising ball pitched outside off to Rina aunty's balcony somewhere in the deep thirdman's direction to score the 'declared two'. You moved inside the line to scoop the full pitched ball straight above the mid on's head simultaneously imparting heavy top spin on it so that it misses Ghosh uncle's protruding television antenna and still hits the C Block water tank for an 'aththa'! You also cheekily but skillfully pushed the ball square to ensure it went below Raman uncle's Ambassador parked there since eternity so you can score a ' all run 3'. Imagine an 'all run 3'! In gully cricket! Now tell me when have you seen me do this? You haven't? Means you have not prodded your mind enough! I have seen me do it. I have seen you do it too! And I saw it everytime Virendra Sehwag padded up and took strike. That audacious 'upar cut', that walking away from the ball to nonchalantly scoop/hoik it above the mid on's head and yet place it beyond the unorthodox long on's reach or the cheeky push away from the slip to a ball which has beaten you on its flight. NOW you get the connection! 


Ganguly retired, a part of my childhood memories vanished. Dravid took away a portion when he hung up the boots. VVS did the same. And Sachin..............sigh! They all helped me get nostalgic. They kindled fond memories about my past. They made me miss some of the most beautiful moments of my life. But I lived on. But Sehwag? Sehwag killed my childhood! He was me! He was you! He was us! With all our shortcomings and infirmities. The lack of footwork and straight bats. He was that imp who stole an 'all run 3' in gully cricket. He was that supreme exponent with the bat who conquered the world with all our limitations, blemishes, drawbacks and weaknesses. I am Viru! The gully cricketer who could dream and then win the world. 

Topspin to take it past Ghosh Uncle's TV antenna! 

Cheeky push to send it below Raman Uncle's car!!

Malang! Mast Malang!!

Malang. Malang! No it is not an ode to Aamir Khan and Dhoom 3. Malang is a word used to describe the ascetics and sufis who live in a world of their own oblivious of everything that goes around them. In a communion with whoever they are in love with and despite the distractions of the world. Beyond love or hate, beyond the plethora of material needs at their disposal or none of it. In a daze, in a zone of their own. Nothing affected them, nothing could upset their veneer. A seering bouncer fended off awkwardly is wiped off from memory. An ugly swipe at the swinging delivery leaving you looking foolish. An unorthodox reverse sweep attempted off an express paceman. Nothing affected him, nothing could upset his veneer. All that mattered was that the next ball was on its way and presented an opportunity to belt it to the boundary or beyond it. Equanimity never lost and never needed to be restored. Peace reigned in his mind as the bowler lost it. MalangMan!

I have this nagging feeling that whenever the history of modern Indian Cricket especially its willow wielders is written the writer may run out of space, pen and ink by the time one is done with the Fab Four and leave a gaping hole in the narrative which will never be noticed by the generation to follow us. Mundane statistics will be quoted and what will be missed is the essence. You will talk about Dada's aggression with bat as well as a captain. Paeans will be written about Dravid's struggle. The languid slayer that the Very Very Special player was. And Sachin.................sigh! They gave joy, they offered delight, happiness from the platform built by a certain Nawab of Najafgarh! Remember the roller coaster, the giant wheel, the horror movie? They didn't give joy or delight or happiness. They gave you pure, unadulterated thrill! Thrill that the Sultan of Multan packed into every minute of his stay at the crease. Whether he scored 2, 22 or those monster  hundreds! THRILL! 

Rewrite the Books! It is Fabulous Fivesome!!

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PS: I first heard Imran Khan of Pakistan call him 'Malang'. One of the few occasions post retirement from active cricket when Khan got something right!

Glossary:

Aththa : Delhi slang for the one which goes beyond the rudimentary 'Sixer', an 'Eighter'!

The Miracle Makers!

Indians are a gullible people I am often told. So gullible that they may actually be convinced into believing that the earth is flat. Or else explain to me the emergence of Godmen/Godwomen, self styled or otherwise like a veritable assembly line. Poor Indians, rich Indians, illiterate Indians, educated Indians, rural Indians, urban Indians, resident and non resident Indians. All Indians! Caste, religion, sex, geography, language no bar.

The myths, legends and stories of this land are laced with a unique amalgamation of mysticism, romance and fantasy. From flying chariots to flying carpets, Indian mythology encompasses the entire spectrum. The ability of Rishis, Babas, Saints and Sufis to deliver you from any and all suffering, real and imagined has a pride of place in holy books as well as popular folklore of this land. Given this foundation it is no surprise that our minds are programmed to accept the modern day Babas who while living a life of opulence and luxury pretend to possess a hotline to God! And some require a private army trained in modern warfare to help them send you on a path of salvation without a return ticket!

Given the above it would come as no surprise to anyone that I too am afflicted with an urge to believe and follow! Who after all doesn’t want to experience miracles!  In fact my list of The Miracle Makers is long, very long.

"Annadana Prabhuve!"

Two hundred years of slavery had reduced the land of prosperity and plenty to one of poverty and penury. As India attained her freedom the overwhelming narrative was one of it being seen in the capitals of leading countries with a begging bowl, the permanently hungry pariahs wailing ‘bhavati bhiksham dehi!’ And amidst this prophecies of gloom and doom arose a Baba, a Saint who conducted what is thus far the greatest ‘Annadaanam’ Scheme this country has witnessed and continues to do so. Mankombu Sambasivan Swaminathan weaved his magic wand and along with his army of fellow scientists and farmers changed the destiny and with it the landscape of India. From famines to self sufficiency of food. Green Revolution! The Miracle and the Miracle Maker!

 

'Doodhwala' Of India!

With the abolition of Zamindari and land reforms, the farmers of India breathed a tad easier. But for a country which lived in her villages and populated by mostly illiterate people with limited resources, Independence did not result in any significant change in their lives or livelihood. Political freedom is a misnomer without economic equality. The village economy still centralized the entire economic and political power into select hands comprising of middlemen and mahajans . While the Shylock took more than his pound of flesh, the middle man usurped the rest. The unorganized small farmer and worker might have felt like still living under the shadow of alien rule. Till one man decided to dirty his hands. To organize the poor Indian villager, bring them together and convert them into a single entity so powerful that it transformed the lives of millions. And in the bargain created what the self proclaimed followers of Marx couldn’t but an unassuming man did, Utopia! Also known as The Milk Cooperatives! You and I identify it more easily as the ‘Taste of India.....AMUL!’ Operation Flood which turned India into the world’s largest producer of milk, the White Revolution, the Miracle! Verghese Kurien. The Miracle Maker!

Bhabha and not just any Baba! 

Independence came to Indians the hard way. 1962 taught her that a thin line divided the hard won Independence and slavery all over again. India was again seen at the capitals of the super powers and its allies, once again chanting ‘bhavati bhiksam dehi!’ Only this time it was for the toys which will protect India’s freedom by protecting its borders. These were the times when India’s foreign exchange reserves were not measured in $ Millions and Billions but by weeks, days and hours. For an impoverished nation the choice was of whether to allocate the scarce resources to either feed her people or to protect them from invasion yet again. In the end India did both. While the men mentioned in the above paragraphs helped give directions for the former, yet another laid the path which lead to India developing technology which not only helped her indigenously build deterrence strong enough to ward off her enemies but also help her address her energy needs. The trail blazed by him sowed the seeds which later revolutionized science and scientists in this country. Homi Jahangir Bhabha, the Father of India’s Nuclear Programme, The Miracle Maker!

Indians are a gullible people I am often told. I too am afflicted with an urge to believe and follow! Who after all doesn’t want to experience miracles!  Go ahead, you too. Believe. Choose you Miracle Makers wisely. And follow!

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PS: With sincere apologies to Ramlals and Nityanandas of this world for whom all I have is 'Babaji ka........!' 

Glossary:

Rishi, Baba, Sufi: Ascetics, Saints etc.

Bhavati Bhiksham Dehi : Sanskrit. A beggers’ cry for alms.

Annadanam: Gifting food.

Zamindar/Zamindari: Landlord/Landlordism prevalent in pre Independence India 

Prabhu: Lord.

Mahajans: Shylocks

I, Salesman.

People who have kept pace with my random musings posted here would have noticed my views on the tribe mentioned in the header. In case you didn’t here are the ready refreshers!. Before you groan “Oh no not again!” let me confess this is a new beast I am talking about. A ‘retail’ Salesman! Salesman all right but a new animal in town!

While I could identify, understand, empathize, and even joke about the two species discussed in the previous note, the latest avatar only brings my deepest sense of sympathy and often agony in my heart. For those who came in late, the ‘Retail Salesman’ is nothing but the customer sales assistants, floor managers and the other staff in a retail store. The ones who man and manage what is called the ‘organized’ retail stores which is relatively a new bitch in town. I am sure you can place this variety now. And if you detect a bias in my words while speaking about them, you are right! As I am one among this crowd for the past few years!

Organized Retail - The new bitch in town! 

Retail salesman in this new environment has 24X7X365 as the primary pattern written into his/her DNA. Suffices to say that this is a breed which is always on work. When the whole world is holidaying, celebrating, taking it easy, these folks are up early to ready up the store so that you can holiday, celebrate, take it easy and spend in style at your neighbourhood store, Shopping arcade or a Mall.

If you think these are lucky dudes who spend their waking hours in swanky showrooms, world class malls, air conditioned stores etc. just remember, they are not permitted to sit while on duty! (Except for a tightly rationed and closely monitored tea/lunch breaks) Try it for a day and I am sure you would bless your stars you don't belong to this section of humanity!

Your Friendly Neighbourhood Salesman!

There is an old quip about this set of humans. “If you don’t like family life, have no social circles worth mentioning, hobbies are nothing but a word in the English dictionary, are an insomniac and generally don’t prefer doing anything except work, Welcome to the world of retail!”

If you think all this is a fair bargain if it leads to loads of money in the bank then you have another thing coming. You will see some money only if you achieve your targets and above, ensure the products under you care are not shop soiled or are not pilfered and you have above average attendance! Essentially it means you need to be a Teflon coating for the products, be a surveillance camera of the store apart from being a consummate politician who can sell any product! Engineers who crib about their life may kindly spare us your bilge!

The other well known and oft repeated quip about this group is “Whenever I look at my targets, it is month end already and when I think of the payday, it seems a million years away!” Faint hearted among you may kindly stay away from this mode for earning your daily bread. And if you think this is a story restricted only to the ‘lowly’ Customer Sales Associates, the ‘Floor Manager’ is afflicted with the same disease, the magnitude being much higher. Even the security guard at a store who is forced to double up as a ‘walk-ins’ counting machine!

Spare this variety a sympathetic glance when you visit the friendly neighbourhood mall the next time. Now that you know their story, hope you will understand the pain that goes behind giving you ‘Service with a smile!’

The pain of 'Service with a smile'!

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PS: I often say, the Police, Fire Service, Hospitals and Salespersons have a common thread running among us. All of us, it would seem are covered under the Essential Services and Maintenance Act (ESMA)! Always on duty!

Show Me The Money!

Recently while chatting with a few friends on the micro blogging site Twitter I got into what I thought was an innocuous chat-fight. And I am hoping it is indeed innocuous and the dudes in question have not unfollowed me yet! The point under consideration was, what else but Cricket. More specifically the deeds of two Indian Cricketing legends, Sachin Tendulkar and Ravi Shastri.

The former, dubbed ‘God of Indian Cricket’ and the same being not far away from the truth, was in the eye of the storm as he took potshots at the long sacked  former Indian Coach Greg Chappell in his autobiography Playing It My Way. The issue was not that Sachin Tendulkar waited a decade and pulled this episode out to plug his book, which he is well within his rights to. The issue was also not whether Sachin Tendulkar broached this episode up with the powers that be at BCCI as and when this happened or not. The fact that Greg Chappell was sacked a few months after the World Cup 2007 fiasco might just well mean that Sachin indeed had. The point was the fans of the God. And their defending Sachin Tendulkar on his mentioning the episode in his book as if it were a divine gospel alone and not an attempt at clever marketing to boost its sales! The highlight of the entire event was that most of the people who were defending Sachin Tendulkar’s act of bringing out the goriest of episodes in the history of Indian cricket in his book a decade or so after the event occurred were the ones who had laughed out the loudest at Vinod Kambli and his allegation of match fixing decades after the said match was over!

Everyone has a book to sell!

The other issue under the radar was on the way Ravi Shastri was apple polishing the BCCI, his employers. Why many asked should a once successful cricketer and currently a very successful cricket commentator be sucking up to the powers that be at the BCCI and not call spade a spade? If I remember correctly, ‘shamelessly’ was the word used to describe Shastri’s efforts. This brought out an honest-to-goodness question in my mind, WHY SHOULD HE NOT DO WHAT HE IS DOING? I mean, how many among us have the guts to stand up and question our bosses or the company fiat? How many of us would risk our very livelihood, career, progress at the altar just to prove a point that the Boss is not right? Negligible if not none! Why shouldn’t Shastri who is already financially well off they asked? Who says only money is the motivation I ask. The allure of being among the powers that be in the administration of a high profile sport and who knows maybe a chance to head the body in the future is a strong enough motivation. Why would Shastri put himself out as a sitting duck to public ridicule they ask? Why not I say! What is some impotent outrage and ridicule after all? Zilch when compared to all the money in the bank. However much you may yell, you will ultimately be out shouted by the jingle of coins and the flapping of hot currency. Remember nothing speaks louder than money!

Has the money been credited yet?

My final words brought the house down and every  ridicule that is mentioned in the above lines and many more not mentioned and unmentionable was directed at me when I said that I too will kiss the BCCI president’s ‘dicky’ should I be paid a few crores of Rupees every year. While it might be hard for you to imagine doing so mates, all I say is SHOW ME THE MONEY!!

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PS: Thanks Jerry Maguire for the title!

Glossary:

Dicky – Euphemism for back, arse etc!

The Match Making!

He was good looking! In fact I lie, he was very good looking! His eyes bright and alive, jaws chiseled and nose sharp. Pitch black and wavy hair, suitably long gave him the perfect “born to model” face. Add to it the fact that he was well built with the muscles threatening to rip apart the linen he was wearing. And despite the fact he was sitting I was quite sure he would measure up enough to match the inevitable ‘Tall, dark and handsome’ cliché! And to top it all was the smile as he played with my niece! Enough to shame Adonis and make him burn in the fires of jealousy!  Happy smile, cheerful smile, warm smile, smile which made his eyes glow. A smile which, without the attendant warmth would have reduced this charming person to a mere Casanova!

More than a handsome hunk! 

 As we exchanged our first glance, Cupid struck me, struck me hard. And my womanly intuition told me correctly that Cupid had struck him too, equally hard! Electric when our hands brushed against each other as I extended the filter kaapi and he subtly tried to grab at more than just the tumbler! We were allowed a brief exchange of words in the adjacent room amidst the din that arose from the drawing room where the parents were busy discussing what parents generally do during match making ceremonies! And I came to know that he was more just a piece of handsome hunk. An engineer and a successful one at that, employed with a leading MNC in Bangalore with ‘kai niraya sambalam’ to boot. But what took my breath away were his words after the mundane introduction. A declaration of Cupid having found his mark, quite accurately, delivered matter of factly.  Words failed me, my eyes rescued me. And with that he walked out of the room having read my eyes!

The next 48 hours were like a million years as I awaited the inevitable phone call inviting us over to his house as is the practice.  I pretended to go through the daily chores while always within hearing distance of the phone. And finally it did ping!  A message, from him! His family had found another girl for him with a larger dowry and he didn’t want to break their hearts it said!   

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She was good looking! In fact I lie, she was very good looking! Her eyes bright and alive, jaws chiseled and nose sharp. Pitch black and wavy hair, suitably long gave her the perfect “born to model” face. Add to it the fact that she was built well, with just the right combination of bones and flesh, slim yet blessed with the right curves at the right places. And despite the fact she was draped in a pattu podavai, I was quite sure she would measure up enough to match the inevitable ‘Tall, dusky and lissome’ cliché! And to top it all was that smile as she played with her niece! Enough to shame Eve and make her burn in the fires of jealousy!  Happy smile, cheerful smile, warm smile, smile which made her eyes glow. A smile which, without the attendant warmth would have reduced this charming person to a mere Nymph!

Not just a Nymph! 

As we exchanged our first glance, Cupid struck me, struck me hard. And my manly gutfeel told me correctly that Cupid had struck her too, equally hard! Electric when our hands brushed against each other as she extended the filter kaapi and I subtly tried to grab at more than just the tumbler! We were allowed a brief exchange of words in the adjacent room amidst the din that arose from the drawing room where the parents were busy discussing what parents generally do during match making ceremonies! And I came to know that she was more than just a piece of beauty. An engineer and a successful one at that, employed with a leading MNC in Bangalore with ‘kai niraya sambalam’ to boot. But what took her breath away were my words after the mundane introduction. My declaration that I had taken a vow never to take dowry at my wedding!  Words failed her, her eyes confused me. And with that I walked out of the room, sanguine I had read her eyes right!

The next 48 hours were like a million years as I awaited the inevitable phone call accepting our invitation to visit our house as is the practice.  I pretended to go through the daily chores while always within hearing distance of the phone. And finally it did ping!  A message, from her! She didn’t want to get married to a loser who refused dowry it said!   

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PS: Please comment which of the two stories you found reflecting the reality more!

Glossary:

Filter Kaapi: South Indian Coffee

Kai niraya sambalam : Handsome Salary
Pattu Podavai : Silk Saree