Didi Oh Didi !!!

The Gorkhaland agitation has come as heaven sent opportunity for Didi.

Does the above statement seem to be out of place or somewhat funny. I'm sorry. The joke is on you if you don't see the scenario unfolding.

Correct me,if I'm wrong but there are about 42 seats of Loksabha up for grabs from West Bengal in the forthcoming elections. The results of the recently concluded panchayat polls in WB have shown that the Left Front is reeling from the onslaught of the TMC tit for tat medicine dished out to them, in good measure. They are not in a position to effectively counter attack because of their own mistakes of discarding the grassroot problems. In two years they have not been able to launch any worthwhile mass movement. And being out of power, fundraising is also a problem they face now.

Congress is nowhere in the picture. Other than Adhir Choudhury localised in Murshidabad as the last man standing,the whole party in West Bengal resemble a trash bin. They are in a hopeless position and Didi has got their votes transferred to her own TMC.

Given this backdrop, the Gorkhaland agitation will only help her to whip up the Bengali sentiment to stoke and inflame parochial passion. The hills may burn. It doesn't bother her. Anyway the votes from the hills do not matter in the big picture. They are not even enough for deciding the outcome of Darjeeling constituency which has a big part of Siliguri subdivision and neighbouring areas in it.
But by staking that one seat, TMC stands a very good chance to sweep entire West Bengal and can even get all of the 41 seats. CPM and Left front know this very well. They are in a classic dillema. If they support division,they lose mass support in WB. If they oppose Gorkhaland , Didi gathers steam and makes it her own strength. She has stolen their pet line - neglect of West Bengal by the centre.

And she knows very well that 40 seats will make her the kingmaker ,if not the queen after the election. None of the other running horses from the different states can boast of so many seats . Amma, Behenji, the wily Bihari, the UP pehelwan , the Odhiya gentleman , no one. They also know it as do BJP and Congress. Note the silence from both Congress and BJP on Gorkhaland. They are not taking any chances and keeping the options of a post poll alliance open.

This analysis does not take into account whether the demand of Gorkhaland is right or wrong. This is just an understanding of the ground realities from a politician's perspective. And morality or foresightedness is never a virtue with the present breed of power hungry politicians. If the hills burn,let them burn. If people die ,so be it. The people from the hills will also feel the backlash of the plains and their leaders,most ill equipped ,are just riding the tiger. They are themselves a bunch of greedy village level politicians who neither have the exposure or the qualities to run a state.

Bimal Gurung is grossly  mistaken if he treats Didi lightly and thinks that he holds the aces in this game. His earlier days of bonhomie with the lady will prove fatal for him . Remember a person named Kishenji and his end . Or another person called Chhatradhar Mahato . How she used these people and then discarded them as trash. I have a feeling that Gurung is right now being used by her , as a convenient puppet to divert attention from the misrule of TMC in the whole  state. She has already sent an ultimatum to the GJM and she herself knows the language of agitation too well. By using all political tactics , lumpen party machinery and force of the state under her command,she will make life difficult in the hills and bake her cake on that fire.

Make no mistake, the lady has the genes of Machiavelli in her. Laugh at her,feel angry with her antics,froth from your mouth and dry your throat ranting against her. She has the masses with her , for now . And,there is no one to challenge her in West Bengal. That makes her one of the front runners in the race to unfurl the national flag from the Lal Qila on the 15th Aug 2014.

You think its a far fetched fantasy. Just wait for the elections to happen. It will definitely be a fractured manadate and a hung parliament with no clear majority for the two main political formations. And then the famous Indian horse trading season begins. I hope you have not forgotten two eminent gentlemen named Gowda and Gujral . If they can,why not she. And with the present insipid MMS in charge for the last decade, we deserve more fun at the centre.

Viva la Didi !!!!!

Rest in peace – Anuradha Bhavsar

Rest in peace – Anuradha Bhavsar

I have never had the opportunity to scold her, applaud her, harrangue her or align with her proffessionally. Neither did I had any inclination, time ,reason or interest to know her personally. She was one of the faces which is lost in the crowd of people you interact in the course of your daily grind. Slightly built and of below average height with a medium complexion and non descript features . There was nothing in her appearance that made her stand out in a collection of people. And she always remained at the background. Because of her status in the hierarchy, maybe because of her position within a group of highly ambitious people with overall level of higher IQ. Maybe because of that feeling of not getting integrated to the people with whom she worked with . And she was a young kid. Just 21 years or so. Even younger than my own son.

But she did her work dutifully and with dilligence. I noticed her stay up very late sometimes on a heavy day even as many others have left. I often wondered what such people would be thinking in their minds as everybody left home and they continue to work on their workstations with heaps of unfinished work. But again on the next day, one would find them typing out on the keyboard right in the morning.

I had not much interaction with Anuradha Bhavsar. Neither did I recollect her instantly when a friend mentioned her. She joined as an executive in Axis Bank and was working in the Treasury department inside the Dealing room. Her job was the lowest in the chain within the Dealing room, sending routine mails in the morning, typing out letters for the Head ,performing routine jobs , attending to phonecalls and entering deals in the system on behalf of other dealers. I have officially interacted with her very sparingly , mostly connected with sending advisory emails to clients or getting some documentss scanned or copied, because the scanner /printer in any office always remain an object of mystery to me.

During informal get togethers of the colleagues over samosa parties or birthday cake cuttings also she tended to align with the other colleague of her rank and they would stand at one of the corners at the edge of the gathering. In such gathering where light banter and wisecracks are applauded with laugh all around and people try to impress others and more particularly their bosses, nobody cared for their views. Actually this is an universal problem with high energy centres like treasury dealing rooms of private banks . You have a collection of young , intelligent , ambitious, career oriented and performance bonus oriented people trying to race ahead of the next seat colleague . People play all types of games to be in the limelight and the feeling of being left behind is a curse you carry with .

But within the oasis of such people with above average salaries and high bonuses are patches of deserts in the form of executives and messengers who are needed to maintain all the logistical hassles. They are not paid too well and when compared with the people they work with the gap is too yawning . That probably makes them a little diffident . Overawed by the workpressure and the importance of the deals exuded by others they go into a shell . And perhaps no one cares to break through that layer. I myself never did . And I doubt only a handful of the colleagues will be able to say where Anuradha lived. But she was there , everyday .

Yesterday , when a friend asked me whether I knew Anuradha, I could not recollect her at first. Then I got the news of her death. And I had a faint recollection of her. When I saw her face in the newspaper article today, I remembered her for a moment of sadness. It is always sad to learn about a death. She was not a near one. Only someone who was a colleague in the same department without too much interaction. But she greeted me with a Good morning or nodded to me whenever she passed me by. As I said earlier, I have never had the opportunity to scold her, applaud her, harrass her or align with her proffessionally. Neither did I had any inclination, time ,reason or interest to know her personally. But I feel a sense of loss today. To die at such an young age ! And in thse circumstances.

A sense of outrage grips me as I read this newspaper report. But this too shall pass. I will return back to my daily routine by afternoon. Colleagues will speak about her on Monday in the coffeepoint . Maybe there will be a small memorial with a minute's silence to honour her . We will all pray for her soul. Then we will forget her.

But she did not die naturally. It was a case of criminal negligence on the part of the doctors. One can say it is a sort of murder. The whole story is really scary and whoever learns it will feel uncomfortable We tend to read these things often and dismiss them from our minds saying – These things happen. Only when we find something like this happening to someone we know, it jolts us . Anuradha's death is tragic. Even more tragic is the sense of alienation that we carry within us. Not reaching out to people. Not understanding them. Not being able to be of help to anyone around. Not knowing people. Not keeping track . Not being able to recollect .  

http://www.dnaindia.com/mumbai/1872038/report-21-year-old-dies-of-bleeding-family-cries-med-negligence

Send me a wire.

Telegrams were always associated with urgency and more often than not, emergency for us during my childhood. My first recollection of anything to do with a telegram when I accompanied my father to Suri Post office from where he sent a #telegram to his office or boss intimating his inability to join work after the sanctioned leave period with a request for extension of leave. Natural , because we had been to our mother's place during my vacation.

Two telegrams are very close to my heart. One sent by my uncle which read - BABLU P 1ST DIV.That was about me clearing Matric board. Naturally again , I was enjoying the summer and the mangoes at my mother's place.

The second one was from #SBI informing my appointment as a PO and directing me to join Alipurduars branch for my first posting. That begun a chain of events leading to my nomadic existence till now.

Well, in those days money was transferred by telegram messages and these were called TT in short. Only authorised officials of the bank, generally not below the rank of Accountant could authorise the TTs under a code which was generated by an instrument resembling a toy with sliding layer of metals with holes on them in rows accompanied by a metal spoke. It used to be kept in the handsafe under the #custody of the designated officer along with a book of codes , which if not maintained properly could wreak havoc. Such was the aura and importance of the TT code and the responsibility ascribed to it that lesser mortals , meaning junior officers avoided it but craved for it internally.

Me ,the eternal fool always treaded the ground which the angels didn't . So naturally , with my uncanny gift of landing into trouble,uncalled for and unnecessary , I found myself gravitating towards Mr Badal Choudhury in the evenings while he affixed the codes to the TTs prepared by the Head Clerk. Mr Choudhury , may God bless him,was the accountant of SBI #CoochBehar Bazaar branch and the most powerful figure at the branch off course after the staff union secrtary. The Branch Manager , poor soul was always kept on the tenterhooks by these two persons, whom he considered villains in his otherwise tranquil life of exile away from the powercenter of #Calcutta.  Actually the BM had confided this to me, in a moment of unguarded anguished moment when he lectured me on his glorious past.

Digression aside, Iet me return to TT . Now BC spotted the eager talent in me thirsting to be fitted on to higher responsibilities. He was at his #avuncular best as he took pains to introduce me to the world of TT messages and its codes. Bursting of self importance I learnt it in no time and within two days,I was able to gain confidence for myself and the accountant. BC stroked his thick bushy beard and congratulated me for being the first person he had met in his service life with such a reservoir of talent. He then went to meet the BM.

After 10 minutes or so , the BM called me and asked me to take temporary charge of the branch# accountant as BC was proceeding on leave for seven days due to sudden illness of his wife. I was flummoxed by this sudden googly. Later I realised why BC was so generous to me. It gave him the opportunity to take sudden leave by passing on the onerous charge of the #branch accountant. And naturally , he always extended his leave , that too ,by a telegram.

Of all the TT codes , two were very common in #foreign #exchange transactions. They were YHACA and YJGUZ. One meant sale of foreign currency and the other purchase.

They have now decided to do away with telegrams. Maybe they are right in doing so. In these days of betting by WhatsApp messages, the poor telegram is a misfit. Like the postcard and the inland letter. I have myself not used any of them maybe for the last 10 years or maybe more than that. Other than reasons  nostalgia and antiquity, they are not relevant in the modern life. 

So after sharing our joys and sorrows by giving us the news of births and deaths , informing us of the imminent arrival of unwanted guests, keeping us posted of important personal milestones and being used to create innumerable dramatic plots for novels and movies, the telegram brings us the news of its own demise. Rest in peace.

The (ir)relevance of LK Advani

The ( ir) relevance of LK Advani.

Writing this caption in the 90s would have been nothing short of blasphemy and surely would have invited derision,castigation and attacks from well meaning educated upwardly mobile middleclass Hindus who had found their messiah in him. I must admit that I myself was one of the persons who saw in him the strong personality we needed to run the country. And I really admired him. Even discounting the strong fanatic and retrograde forces of ultra Hindu philosophy of VHP and Sangh Parivar.

After about two and half decades of the BJP lotus blooming through out the country, the credit of which must go to Advani ji to a large extent, lot of things have happened. Advani ji came within striking distance of being PM but always remained the man who would be PM . As if he was never destined to be the PM. But he kept on being the most important person of BJP after Vajpayee ji as long as he was there and then assumed the mantle of leadership of the party easily and naturally . But after the defeat of NDA nine years ago and exit of Vajpayee ji from the scene it was a mixed fortune for BJP and they have slowly lost ground , unfortunately to a most corrupt and inert Congress led UPA.

This period of powerless inactivity as the premier opposition leader coupled with advanced age and dilution of the culture within the party made him slowly distanced from the people and their aspirations. As an opposition, BJP was not able to provide any hope to the people and as a ruling party in some states the local leaders started getting assertive.

The Central leadership of BJP was always more central and not regional as the leaders owed their position more due to their proximity with the different organisations within the Sangh Parivar. So it was natural that the weakness at the Centre and the strength at regional level was playing its own dynamics and altering the equations quietly at first but then like all irreversible reactions, pretty vigorously afterwards.

Advani ji missed the signs. Or even if he understood then he was not prepared to accept it because his own ambitions and aspirations were still aflame like the molten candle . Maybe he has made himself believe in the make believe of his own destiny as the PM. Meanwhile time has not stopped for him . It has flown its own course . During the last three decades, people like me who firmed the strong supporter base for Advani have greyed and now are in their fifties and sixties . These people are more cynical, more tolerant , more fatalist and more corrupt than what they were in the nineties . They have seen things fail.They have known that their very own Ironman has actually feet of clay. And now they are more or less convinced that nothing will change majorly if the Congress is replaced by BJP. Nothing wrong or strange about it . This is the way of life.

But then the new generation of BJP supporters are a new breed altogether. They are more materialistic , more internet savvy, more impatient and want more of everything. They are not bothered about the means but want the end to be defined. They are in a hurry and they have found their hero in Narendra Modi. The telltale signs of his ascension to the centre of power are visible and right now his popularity in BJP supporters match what Advani had in 92. But then Vajpayee rode the Advani wave . That is a different story.

How times change. Today the news of BJP supporters agitating in front of Advani's house makes me shake my head in disbelief. The comments on twitter and facebook on Advani are so acidic . And these are not by Congress supporters . The people who are spewing venom against Advani are all BJP voters. They just don't want Advani any longer as they are impatient to annoint Modi as their leader. Some of the comments remind me of those which flooded the social media after the demise of ex Maha CM Deshmukh .

Everything and everyone has a shelf life. Advani has ignored this. He is paying the price now. Strangely, even after building his politics on the plank of Hinduism , he seems to have forgotten the last stage of the happy Hindu way of life - Vanaprastha.

All said and done , one must credit BJP for the internal debate on leadership . This upholds democratic traditions. Other parties may jeer them for the perceived disunity but can any other political party in India can claim of such transparency and debate on leadership. This itself puts BJP on a higher notch than the pathetic one (wo) man parties dotting the political canvas and makes them stand out, giving us some hope

P.S. I am not a Modi acolyte and believe that he should remain as the CM of Gujarat. Nothing more than that. Let the Gujaratis enjoy his leadership till eternity and prosper thousand times. But please God, let the country be spared of him as the PM. We would rather remain as we are.

Waiting for the miracle.

One of these days, a miracle will happen,
I am eagerly waiting for it.
Politicians will stop lying
and you won't  be able to bribe the police.
Trains will be less crowded ,
people won't relieve themselves along the tracks.
Pakistanis will make peace with us,
Dawood will be rotting in a jail.
There will be no T20 cricket matches
and we will win the FIFA  world cup.
There will be jobs for everyone.
No more suicides by farmers.
All these are possible , yet they are not.
So there is not much that I can do
except hoping for the miracle
to happen one of these days.

Climbing trees

I remember,when I was young, the trees looked so big and I always wished to climb the larger trees. Tarzan was a role model for me then and I always fantasised about swinging from the branches and roots of trees.

There were a lot of trees then around the place we lived and we also had many trees in our compound . As children we played and climbed on some smaller mango guava and jackfruit trees at home but were not allowed on the bigger trees. My uncles could climb trees and during the season of blueberries (jaamun) they used to take me along with them on the bicycle to collect the fruit. They would climb up the tree and shake the branches and I would pick up and collect the jaamuns fallen on the ground in the bag. I was always in awe of their ability to climb the trees . 

Also when I went to my mother's village during summer or winter holidays, I found the children there climbing trees with such dexterity that I envied them for this. I particularly liked the ritual of getting the Tad (tal) fruit plucked, tamarind collected and the setting of the pot on the date palm to collect the juice. In the eyes of  the small boy that I was, these were the ultimate exciting things to do. Sometimes one of the farm hands would perch me up on the nearest branch of the big mango tree and I would sit there feeling so thrilled with life.

All these are now just faded memories. It's difficult to believe that I had spent those days. Even to me they seem to be stories of my past birth,how can I blame others. Nobody can relate to these stories in this era of TV shows of extreme adventure sports and daring stunts. Children now do not play those hide and seek games involving bringing leaves and flowers of plants and trees and climbing up trees or terraces. That is considered too risky and off course it is. But how simple it really looked then. And we seemed to have endless reservoir of energy to play those games. Now when I look down from highrise existence,I discover that the trees look smaller.

But I still cannot climb them .

Fly, my birdie , fly away,

if you really want to. 

I can not stop you 

nor want to cage you. 

You came to me 

from the heavens above

and gave me some moments of joy.

With all those fond memories

of togetherness, I now set you free.

If you return again 

to wake me up on a fine morning , 

be my guest and call me .

I will wait for you.