Existential Crisis

'The Scream' by Norwegian expressionist painter Edvard Munch .

Acknowledgement: Thanks Sanket, for telling me about this beautiful painting. :)

The politics of economics

I am writing this article in response to an attitude, a frighteningly widespread attitude of ambitious criticism. By that I mean a type of criticism that adds little value to the subject under discussion and serves only the critic by catapulting his name towards his indiscriminating readers.

The occasional cause that prompted me to write this is this article from www.outlookindia.com. I will talk about this article per se later on in this post.

In any piece of writing, fundamentally, there are two aspects- 1. form, and 2. content. The form is the body of the essay that contains the content, the soul, of an essay.

An idea, if not embodied properly, doesnt remain presentable any more. It loses its appeal to the reader. However, it doesnt lose its intrinsic value. A good idea embodied in a bad word or sentence is like an idea in hibernation. It sleeps. It doesnt die. Sooner or later it reincarnates in a better frame and gets conveyed.

But the other way round doesnt exist. A form has little value in isolation. For a few moments it might amaze or amuse you by its words or wits but the effect is essentially ephemeral. It ends with the pages. It dies. A form without a content is like a body without a soul. It is like a dead body. It hardly matters how beautiful it is. Infact the more beautiful it is, the more sorry you feel about it.

Having an intrinsic value is very important for me. I have no taste for anything that lacks it. There are things that are very different or very difficult but these thing never charm me. One might spit 10 meters far or piss 100 meters high and claim a place in the books of records. Fair enough. But for me and people like me, these things have no value.

Oflate I have read a few articles about Indian economy. I have made a curious observation after going through these essays. I feel that most of these essays attempt to disseminate the (political) agenda of the writer rather than reflect his understanding of the subject. This trend is prevalent and pronounced in the field of economics more than anywhere else. Read this too. As a beginner I hardly welcome this disobliging skepticism but I cannt ignore the facts that I myself have noticed.

Rhetorics is also an element of form. It is a tool that helps the writer to create an effect in the mind of a reader. It is like the needle of the injection, it penetrates the skin but it is just a means to achieve an ends. It facilitates the ejaculation of both medicine or poison inside the body. What is actually injected depends upon whether the injection is in the hands of a doctor or a killer. The effect of the needle alone dies with the twinge but the effect of medicine or poison is more enduring and far more significant.

In a nutshell, how a thing is said is important only till what is said is important.

Coming back to the article (the link is given above) I feel that the writer must appreciate the difference between responsible criticism and ambitious criticism. The former involves adding value to the subject before demanding value for the writer. The latter involves omission of the first step.

A criticism is complete only when it suggests an alternative. Every system has flaws and anti-incumbency sentiments attached to it. It is easy to fan the fury of discontented people but it doesnt make any valuable contribution to the society. Deconstruction can be genius but it is never great. Only construction can be great. Only an irresponsible, power-seeking man indulges himself in subversive activities without having any idea of the alternative system. All he gives to the society is anarchy.

In this article the writer is not wrong when he says that GDP is neither the means nor the ends of our economic pursuits. But he goes on to say that it is not even a good indicator of economic development. I agree that GDP doesnt incorporate household activities and thus doesnt give us an accurate picture of the economic health. But we have no other better indicator with us. What if not GDP? How do we take decisions? The writer offers no suggestions from his side. Rather he repeats what many have already said.

Having an agenda is not objectionable as it contains a sense of purpose. But it must be supported by a sound understanding of the world around us. It is sad that young people fall for sides and slogans without proper study. One book of Ayn Rand can make us capitalist and the other one makes us a hardcore capitalist. This is ridiculous. A belief is discredited not by its detractors but by the frailty of its followers. It is bourgeois to accept or reject anything before understanding it. We must try to understand before making an opinion.

In this article the writer accuses finacial markets and IT industry for naxalism. He fails to see that naxalism is an endemic that is found only in the areas that are away from the reach of BSE and IT industry. The victims of the naxalite aggression are not IT professionals or BPO executives but the local land owners. The cause of violence is not poverty but hopelessness and injustice. True, the government has failed to control the growing economic disparity but in the same breath he says that IT and BPO industry has not provided any employment for the less privileged people. Nothing could be farther from truth. Whenever an industry thrives, other supporting industries also flourish. Apart from jobs that are directly created, many small hotels, restaurants, tea-stalls and other shops of small and big scale get opened. Many people earn and many people live. Just look around.

BPO and IT industry has given HOPE to Indian youth. It has provided empowerment to women. It has made India a force to reckon with on the international arena. Its contribution can hardly be negated without being incorrect. I hope this cloud to go to places where people are deprived of rains. I am waiting for this sun to rise in east.

A Letter to The Director, IITB

This is a letter from one of IITB's alumni to the director of IITB. It addresses some of the issues I have felt and discussed with Akshaya. Thought it might be interesting to you.

EFFECT OF UNLIMITED BROADBAND INTERNET ON CAMPUS LIFE & CULTURE: AN OPEN LETTER TO DIRECTOR, IIT BOMBAY

Author - ANIL CHAWLA

To,

The Director, Indian Institute of Technology, Bombay

Powai, Mumbai - 400 076

Sir,

Thanks for the courtesies extended to all of us from the batch of 1980 at our Silver Jubilee Reunion in the last week of December 2005. We enjoyed the meet and were really glad to see that the institute has grown during the past two and a half decades.

While we were enjoying ourselves and renewing our long-lost contacts, some of us visited the hostels and interacted with the present students.We learnt that the culture on the campus has changed drastically from our days. The hostels are different from what we nostalgically remember.

There have been significant improvements in terms of infrastructure - better-equipped messes, water purification systems, washing machines and an Internet connection in each room. Our batch was the last one to use slide rule. Calculators were allowed when we were in second semester.

When we came, hostel rooms did not even have ceiling fans (fans were fitted when we were more than half way through). When we passed out, personal computer was still many years away and all that we learnt of programming was using punch-cards. So, comparing today's infrastructure with our times is indeed mind-boggling.

We could have been envious of today's students. But, we saw a negative side of the picture that left us worried rather than envious. In our times, hostel lounge was a centre of activity. In those days, the lounge used to have a black & white TV, a music system, a carom table, a TT table, and a few magazines. It used to be bustling with activity, which was more often than not a bit too noisy for my liking. But, now when I visited lounge of my own hostel, it was a mere shadow of its glorious past. It still had the magazines, but everything else was gone. The furniture looked as if it had not been used for ages. The place looked dead and the silence was eerie.

The reasons for the change in ambience of lounge are not too far to seek. Every student now has a computer, which can be used for playing music - so coming to lounge and listening to music is passé. The computer has also replaced the TV. It appears that the computer has also replaced carom table and TT table. Now, students spend hours playing games on the computer in their respective rooms. We were told that counterstrike is the favourite on the campus, with some students playing it for hours at a stretch every day. I was even introduced to someone as the invincible champion of counterstrike. I tried to talk to this so-called champion. It was a futile exercise - he did not know how to talk. His language capabilities were limited to monosyllables and some shaking of the head as a zombie probably would.

Was he an isolated case? Probably yes, but more probably, no!

Unfortunately, it seems that the counterstrike champion was just a representative of the new crop of IITians - good at the mouse but very bad at almost all human interaction skills - an impression confirmed by the student who made a presentation to our batch about TechFest. His presentation used computer-generated graphics in a way that we could never have done as students. Yet, he failed to impress. His skills as an orator are unlikely to bring any glory to IIT.

Public speaking is a skill that only a few have. Even, in our batch, not many were (or are) good orators. So, if the present generation of IIT students lacks this skill, this cannot be a cause of worry. There is, however, one difference. Two and a half decades ago, while the average student at IITB might have lacked oratory skills, the leaders among students - the ones who acted as spokespersons - were comparable to the best in the world. The student leaders of IITB during 70's and 80s represented the tip of a pyramid. Most of us were nowhere near the pinnacle, yet had our own strengths when it came to putting a point forward.

An average student of IITB during the late seventies honed his skills at discussions, argumentation and debate in the mess, corridors and steps of hostels. I remember that when I came as fresher, I could hardly speak English. In less than a year, I was speaking fluently - albeit, with a lot of slang. Compared to that today's situation seems strange. The messes are too quiet; lounges are empty; wing corridors do not have any hot debates going on. The most surprising part was when a student of Hostel 13 told me that he did not even know the names of all his wingmates and there was at least one person in his wing with whom he had not talked even once during the past four months or so that he had lived in the wing.

The shocking absence of social and interpersonal interaction in the hostels is not something that can be taken lightly. IIT has a brand value today because of its alumni. On IITB campus, there are many buildings that have been funded by alumni who have been successful in their lives. How many of these alumni were outstanding in academics while they were at IIT? How many gold medallists of IITB have done as well as Nandan Nilekani or Manohar Parrikar? IITians who have shone across the world did learn a lot in the classrooms of IITB, but my humble contention is that they learnt even more in the hostels interacting at close quarters with some of the best minds of the country.

It appears that Internet and internet-based games have replaced the warmth that hostels of IITB had till very recently. A computer in each hostel room with an unlimited broadband connection was a technological dream that was too farfetched for us to even imagine when we were students. Now that the dream has come true, it is time that we took care of the negative consequences.

I understand that managements of various IITs are aware of the problem. IIT Madras Director is rumoured to have said in one of his classes that he was less bothered about porn and more concerned about computer games that are addictive and can take up hours at a stretch. IIT Madras puts off its server from 0100 hours to 0400 hours so that students can sleep and do not continue playing through the night. I am told that IIT Bombay has introduced compulsory attendance (80 per cent) in all classes to ensure that students come to classes instead of playing games in their rooms.

Poor attendance in classes is just one of the consequences of extensive computer-game-playing. As Director, ensuring high level of academic performance is surely one of your primary duties. But, academic life is just one facet of IIT experience. IITB, in particular, and all IITs in general have prided themselves on all-round development of their students. With the adoption of new technological advances, it seems that a crisis situation has been created - students are missing out the complete transformational experience that IITs traditionally offered. Classroom instructions are one part of what the students are missing out when they remain glued to the screens, but that is not the only part or the most important part that they are missing.

To stress my point, let me discuss about the recent suicide on IITB campus. The poor soul apparently was distressed due to some decision of IITB management. He was a genius in one field and was studying in another. But, was all these sufficient reason for him to take the ultimate step? Did he talk to his friends before that? As it seems, he was a loner permanently glued to his computer screen. He was an island all unto himself. It seems that too many of students at IITB today are islands with no bridges connecting them to others even around them. This is not a problem of just IITB. Last semester, even IIT Kanpur had a suicide.

IITians are known today across the world as great warriors who fight against all odds without losing their sense of humour and wit. None of the attitudes and skills needed for this grit can be picked up from a computer screen or in a classroom. If the future generations of IITians come without essential survival and human interaction mindsets, they may make good nerds but they will no longer be able to make much of a mark in various fields where IITians are shining today. If this happens, IIT will no longer be the big brand that it is supposed to be today.

Management, faculty and above all student community of IIT Bombay must discuss the impact of the present policy of providing unlimited broadband Internet connection in every hostel room. I am not against adoption of new technology. Probably, we need more technology to ensure that Internet technology does not become a curse. Should the broadband connections in hostel rooms block all gaming? Should there be metering of usage in terms of time or downloaded bytes? These are some of the questions that come to my mind. Surely, there must be many more questions, alternatives, solutions that must be discussed threadbare by the IITB community.

I am sure that IITB community will be able to face up to the problem and come up with solutions that will guide all other institutes, colleges and universities not just in India but also abroad.

Thanks & Regards,
ANIL CHAWLA

13 January 2006

15 Park Avenue

How I wish I could write a review of this movie! But I know I can not. I can not because writing a review, which could do justice with this movie, would demand much more competence and experience than I suppose I have. So I am going to write my general feeling and opinion about it which is based on the impression the movie has created in my mind. Please don't expect a detailed analysis or technical insights in this post.

To start with, it is a beautiful movie. Mind-blowing with all its possible limitations! Absolutely Amazing despite a few imperfections the professional critics would come up with!

I recommend you to watch this if you are interested in meaningful cinema and if your perception of fun doesn't belong to the genre of 'keep-your-mind-at-home' type. I will suggest you to watch this movie in theatre. I'm sure you'ld find it worth your while and worth its cost as well as its opportunity cost. For me this movie was an audio-visual treat that had made a heartfelt effect. This effect is still fresh. I can still feel its sweet fragrance.

Now let's talk about the movie as such. What's so great about this movie? Well, where should I start from?

Konkana Sen Sharma: I admit I don't have appropriate and adequate adjectives to adorn her with. I am afraid my adjectives will only understate the sheer genius of her acting. She is a sensational phenomenon. She leaves you bedazzled by her brilliance. She impales your heart by her penetrating performance. She gets you transfixed to your chair and doesn't even allow you to blink your eyes as long as she stays at the screen. She plays the role of Mithi, a schizophrenic girl who has delusions about her husband and kids who don't exist in reality (obviously!). She gives life to Mithi, she makes her breathe, she makes her so irresistably real! That's what an actor does to a character that is otherwise nothing but a collection of words on a piece of paper. In this movie there are many moments made momentous by her impeccable histrionics. Watch her when she says "Who are you who look like my parents?" while resisting her being taken away. You will not be able to forget the ferocious yet poignant look in her large watery eyes. Look at her while she comes back from the asylum. You will not be able to forget her defeated, shattered image. She looks like an innocent flower untimely withered by the sadistic scorch of a revengeful sun. The pathos stays in your mind. She stays in your mind.

Konkona has a courage to look ugly on the screen, without hiding those two eyes! And it matters a lot to me. Here I remember Nargis with great fondness and respect. No actress has done till date what she has done in Mother India. I want to write about her sometime. With the same feelings I also remember Raj Kapoor in Jagte Raho, an absolutely amazing movie and an absolutely brillaint performance! An actor need not always look pretty if he/she wants to make the character real. Konkona very much looks like Mithi would do in her real life. She does it very honestly and very convincingly. And it takes more than just a 'no make-up' look to achieve what she has achieved. Her theatrical skills are incredible. You have to see Mithi to get a glimpse of Konkona's genius.

Shabana Azmi: Shabana Azmi plays a beautiful and a very complicated role. She is Mrs Mathur, Mithi's elder sister in the movie. She is a divorced woman, an ambitious professor of physics with kind but impetuous disposition. She looks after her ailing sister and old mother. Bound by her familial obligations, she is bound to ignore the courtships of his colleague she likes. She consciously tries not to punish her family for her sacrifices and she rejects the label of 'saint' etc but in weak and trying moments her anguish belies her otherwise poised countenence. There was, I think, an immense scope in this role and consequesntly a menacing responsibility attached to it. But Shabana delivers it with perfection, panache and above all, control. Her mind is torn apart by heart-rending conflicts and such is the force of her acting that we feel the stress in our minds. She takes us in a different plane. We shuffle between our postures in anxiety and apprehension while she effortlessly goes on. We feel sorry for her. We empathize with her despite the conspicuous lack of a background score. Only she could have done it. We admire her without her doing much melodrama. Shabana has done justice with her reputation as a great artist. We want more of her.

Waheeda Rehman: Oh what an actress! I have seen her in Pyaasa but it was this movie that made me realize her potential.

In 15 Park Avenue, she looks so tender and so vulnerable that you unconsciously get cautious of her. Her frailty and fragility scares your soul. She looks like someone precariously standing at the edge of a cliff where even a slight touch could push her into the abyss. She trembles like a dry leaf. "It is so awful to be old and helpless", she says and she sends the shiver down your spine by letting you see imagine for a moment the horrors of senility that is more horrible than senility itself. Look at the naked shock at her face when Shabana shouts at her and says that it was her family that stops her from doing things she would have done otherwise.

Rahul Bose: Odd man out in this ladies' movie! We again get to see the same 'goody-goody' sophisticated, urban gentleman who fails to make any mark in the intimidating presence of the scintillating triumvirate. Sorry Rahul I can't ignore Mr and Mrs Iyer while writing about you. I found the similar character in 15 Park Avenue too. You were great in the former but not so great in the latter despite your being almost the same. More presicely, because your being the same. The similitude in the roles you choose to play is disconcerting and disappointing. Every artist has limitations but within those limitations an actor must display a minimal variety in his roles. So unlike Konkona, you hardly do anything but be yourself! That's what you have done is this movie. Do you call it acting? I don't think so. Enacting oneself can hardly be called acting. Every man at the street enacts himself. Big deal!

There are moments when you try to act but you try too hard and you nearly make a mess of the scene. Any discerning spectator will be puzzled by your inexplicable pauses and postponed responses in heated scenes. Why would a husband be so irritatingly and provokingly devious to his wife while answering her simple questions? Why would he unnecessarily let himself be suspected by his circumlocution and evasion? Your acting in those few scenes indicates insincerity on the part of Joydeep which is incongruous with the portrayal of his character. That reminded me of second-rate suspense movies in which the actors deliberately stammer and glance sideways to create cheap mystery.

Anyways, you manage to save the wicket. You stayed put at the pitch. You shared the screen with these formidable women and that, I understand, could be pretty unnerving. Keeping that in mind, you didn't do that bad. You did rather good. You deserve this much credit. But you don't play awesome shots which was expected from a man like you who, Media says, is an actor of great caliber.

Aparna Sen: I should have started with her. I would certainly have if her daughter had not overwhelmed my mind by her pyrotechnical performance. She is the mother of this movie. I have few words to say in her praise. She has proved again that she is a consummate director. She has an understanding of the subtle nuances of human emotions and human relationships and she portrays her characters with meticulous care and credibility. She respects the intelligence and sensitivity of her audience too. There are dialogues and situations in the movie that substantiate my feeling. I am sure you will notice the fine treatment of such emotions especially in Shabana's dialogues. All I would like to say that as a movie-goer I am thankful to her for making such a beautiful movie. Hats off to you, Ma'am.

Schizhophrenia: I am not sure whether schizophrenics behave like mentally retarded people. I am not sure if they urinate at the carpet. I am not sure if they don't recognize people they see in their hallucinations. I am saying all this because the review at rediff.com says that this movie makes the understanding of the word schizophrenia clear in our minds. I beg to disagree.

But still, unlike other movies, the patient is not shown to be a dangerously smiling psychopath who does all sorts of somersaults with his eyeballs to prove that he is really sick.

The End: This is controvertial and deliberately made so. I repeat - consciously and deliberately. If you understand this point, you would find yourself less judgemental about it.

Apart from the classic reason of leaving 'the end' at our imagination, the writer-director might have other motives to choose such an open-ended end. I think that the director didn't want to do anything dramatic to bring about a more palatable and popular end. Most of the directors do it. And it is ridiculous. However we are habituated to it. We take it as a necessary rule of the game. But our being habituated doesnt make it less ridiculous. On the other hand we are not habituated to such endings. We felt betrayed for not been told the whole story. But there is more to human life than a story can contain. That's the point and we must know it.

And without a spectacular upheaval it was almost impossible to conclude the story in 3 hours. There were many lose threads in the movie and a conventional end would have involved doing things that would ineluctably have threatened the quality of the movie. The director chose to be uncompromising about it and I respect her for that.

Verdict: A don't-miss movie.

The Power of Congratulations!!

"...and compliments became more and more unbearable to me. It seemed to me that the falsehood increased with them so inordinately that never again could I put myself right." - Albert Camus (The Fall)

How beautiful!! How true!! Camus bares the soul of the modern man. How undeniably true is our secret craving for compliments in spite of our awareness of the fact, continually corroborated by thoughtful observation, that most of the people have little or no 'sense of compliment'.

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I vaguely remember a story that I had read in my childhood. It was about a little boy. One day he came home with some fruits that he had stolen from his neighbour's backyard. His mother became very happy with him and patted him for it. Encouraged by his mother's praises, the boy involved himself in more acts of thefts. He brought more fruits, vegetables and other eatables to his home and saw his mother brimming with joy. As he grew up, he gradually mastered various skills of picking pockets, bluffing, cheating and dodging police. After a few years he became a highway robber. He looted many people and brought home money, gold and other valueables. His terror spread in the areas nearby. The local government issued a warrant on his name. He absconded and tried to escape but finally he was caught and jailed. The police implicated him in various criminal cases and he was proved guilty. The court pronounced a capital punishment for him. His mother came to see him before his execution. The man, who had dolefully reviewed the course of his life in the solitude and leisure that the prison provided, slapped his mother and looked at her with a seething hatred in his eyes. After a while he burst into spasmodic sobs. He said to her on his way to gallows, 'Your praises ruined my life. If you had scolded me the first day I had stolen fruits, I might have been a different man. Oh mother! Your compliments killed me! '.

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We must be cautious of compliments. We must be aware of their power over us. Congratulations-driven actions are exciting but dangerous. It is like riding on a lion. It gives you immense pleasure and a sense of power nothing else can afford. It gives you a high. You feel like God! But remember - you can't let yourself fall. You just can not let yourself fall! The lion will tear you apart as soon as you fall. You die with a mutilated face. You die another man.

At other times, this word - Congratulations is meaningless. It adds no value to our aspirations. What's the value of thos word for a man like Sachin Tendulkar? Nothing. It says nothing. It is like the unfortunate one that is added to infinite, only to be neglected and humiliated.

To a successful man, the gratification it provides is similar in nature to the delights of revenge. Indifference is answered with indifference, though belatedly.

I am the best

It is an interesting exercise to study the cultural disparity between our homes and our workplaces. And consequently the adjustment one has to make between accepted behavioural patterns, which can be quite exacting sometimes, that stands in direct proportion to the depth of our roots. We are grown up in a particular moral environment and internalize a set of values by education and observation. And then we are expected to exhibit a behaviour that is based on an entirely different and alien, predominantly American, set of values.

This is like subjecting a Sitar to Rock! Those whose musical sense is awakened can find a false note. A discord. Cacophony.

Life has given me ample oppotunities to register many false notes. I am going to share just one or two. This idea has been developed on phone while my conversations with Ashutosh.

We agreed that humility has no place in the corporate world. In the age of appraisals we are made to project ourselves better than our peers. We are made to sell ourselves. No wonder, after all we are living in the market where almost everything is on sale. There are certain items that are costly, that's it.

On the contrary, our culture seems to rest on a few pillars, humility being one of them. For us, who used to blush when someone ever praised us at our face, it seems really embarassing to convince someone about our being better than others! But this is what we invariably do in our institutes and especially in our workplaces. In presentations and seminars we ask questions just to show how smart we are. In SOPs and interviews we project ourselves as a super-smart wiz-kids capable of bringing about an economic earthquake or something of that effect in no time. Every second city-slicker knows how to do a smart-talk. We all have apparantly mastered the art of talking. We hardly let go any chance to let others know how unbearably great we are.

In a nutshell, we have bartered humility for verbosity.

Just try to watch a group of 'Modern School' kids and you'll see where we are leading to. I get shocked by their affectedness. Dont get surprised if an 8 years old giggles and smirks at your 'behenji' outlook or your having no girl friends! Sometimes I feel like slapping them. But more than that, I feel sad about them. After all, it's our failure and we must take the responsibility for it. We want them to be smart before being anything else. We make them lose their innocence long before they actually should. We condition them the same way as they are conditioned in Brave New World. Ohh I am getting goosebumps!

I remember my own childhood. And I remember Doordarshan and the programmes I used to watch. I remember Malgudi Days. How protected I was! And how defenceless these kids are against the blinding glare of MTv and Remix videos. How will they guard themselves against Sex and The City? Who will save them?

Maturity, if comes prematurely, remains shallow in character.

But shallow character is never a block in running a market, so let it be! Who cares anyways!

Happy new year

Darkness is nothing in itself, it has no separate entity. It is just an absence of light.

Depression is nothing but the absence of hope.

Read this article by Akshaya. An excerpt from the same -

"It doesn't matter whether the new year brings something new or not. What matters is whether you believe in the new year or not. It doesn't matter whether 'that morning' arrives or not, but if you refuse to look outside the window in the morning, it shall not. A man is just as alive as his dreams are, just as human as his hopes are."

Lets light our lives by the flame of our dreams. Lets keep our ideals alive!

Lets make this year a happy new year.

Gunahon Ka Devta

When Debu, my only chat friend(He is a computer science graduate from IIT Kgp, recently working with Samsung in Bangalore), recommended me this book, I politely said that I dont prefer that kind of book. By that kind, I meant, you very well know, which type of books.

This was my knee-jerk reaction after knowing the title of this book. I was quick to judge(so like me!) and I was sort of offended for having been taken for that type of guy who reads that type of books! But then he said that this book was an Academy award winner and a must-read for those who think that there could be anything that can be treated as a must-read. I was convinced enough to take a chance, after all I read Devnagri very fast.

I visited a Book Fair in Delhi or Ranchi, I dont remember where, and bought it. I must say that was a very good day of my life.

This is an all-time favorite book of almost all who have read it and here I include the people who do nothing else but read, and here I also include the people who picked it up with soaring expectations.

But I am not writing this because it is a super-hit book. I am writing it because I love it.

I hardly write reviews. I know people who do this better than me. So I leave it to them. But when Gunahon Ka Devta is in question, I must do what I have never done.

After spending a considerable number of hours with books and bookworms, I have a decently large sample size to make an observation about the category of books. There are 3 type of books I read.

1. Books that are written by brain.

2. Books that are written by heart.

3. Books that are written by soul.

I must say that I dont read unputdownable books. No serial-killer protagonists for me. Less due to excess of scorn and more due to shortage of time, I dont read the bestsellers and the charbusters. So I exclude the books that are written by other parts of human anatomy. Leave it. Lets not waste words for them.

Witty is the word for the first category. The author makes penetrating observations and uses spectacular language to leave you amazed and you marvel at his sheer power of making you amazed. Overall, it's an amazing read.

Moving is the word for the next category. These books might leave your face stained with lines at each side of your nose. You walk dazed throughout the day and you might find yourself examining your life, your relationships with those you love and your priorities. You feel unperturbably placid. Overall, it has a cathartic experience.

There is often an overlapping between the second and the last. The difference is that the former is more or less temporary but the latter leaves an indelible impression on your mind. This book belongs to the third category, the book that is written by soul.

Have you ever visited a small temple in a village? A temple surrounded by serenity and silence. A temple with ivory-white walls on the top a of a hill where you feel yourself lost in harmony with everything around. Have you ever been there?

This book creates the same ambience in your mind.

It is a love story.

But dont expect any cool-dude with a kick-ass confidence and a slapstick humor duly developed to make your dil go mmmm here. Chandar is far less disingenuous a character. And he is very simple and honest. There is nothing fake about him. You might not even notice him on the street. But you long for him for your entire life.

And there is no outwardly modern but actually traditional girl here. Sudha has never been exposed to smart education. She is innocence personified. She is so lovable that anyone would love her. She is the one who contains in herself the timeless beauty in the expectation of which a man wants to love a woman.

They don't go around with each other and have fun. Their love is not burdened by rituals and kitsch. Their relation has no social value. And their love is not that is shattered by one blow. They are not 'I-tried-but- it's-not-working-out' type people who seek the exit door as soon as they could.

It is a story of a boy and a girl who were not waiting it to happen in their life because it happens in everyone else's life and how wonderful life would be if it happens soon enough! They are not dying to make it happen. Well waiting for it is no way wrong and even you and I do it. But it is not our story. It is their story who live in Allahabad where life moves at the speed of an old melody. They share a cute nameless sibling-like relationship and imperceptibly become dependent on each other emotionally. When she fights with her father then it is only him and noone else who can persuade her to eat.

This is the thing that I liked the most. They didnt realize that they were in love! They were absolutely unaware of their own feelings for each other. When they come to know that they are going to be separated (by the girl's marriage) then only, very gradually and very unassuredly, they realize that what is between them has exceeded the boundary of friendship and perhaps it is what people call Love! But they are more confused than they were sure.

Imagine a sad bride who can not help thinking about a man who is not her would-be groom. And who is being teased by her giggling friends about her first night!

Imagine a man who simultaeously discovers his love for the bride and who is responsible to make various arrangements for her marriage. He is being torn apart by his mental conflicts and dilemma and suddenly he hears a call, 'O Chandar, beta where are you? You are sitting here! See where the doodhwala has died! Go and fetch him'.

I am feeling dizzy while writing it. And if you feel that it is a usual hindi-film story with the usual overdose of glycerine then it is I to blame and not the book. The moon is not less beautiful if the poet is inarticulate.

Well, what does he do? He suppresses his feelings. After all the girl is the daughter of his professor whom he worships. And it is sheer impunity and treachery to love his daughter. And the groom is many times better than him. He must not wreck havoc in a house where marriage is taking place because of his stupid emotions. He must keep his thoughts to himself and take care of where the hell the doodhwala is!

In this book, the writer doesnt say anything great about this supreme sacrifice. Rather he doesnt judge anyone and anything throughout the book. This is other beauty - no judgements, no logic, no rhetoric and no metaphors- and yet the effect!

The girl conforms to his father's wish and is peacefully married away but she could not do further. She could not make herself happy. She was incapable of enjoying herself. She falls sick, withers away her health and eventually dies before her clueless, helpless father and Chander who is a God of Sins! His nobility and loaftiness of character turns out to be the murderer of one he loves most! And his sacrifice couldnt outdo his love.

Read this book for its ambience if nothing else. I have found very few books who belong to the third category. Only The picture of Dorian Grey comes close to it because of Sibyl Vane and her understanding of Love!

The author, Dharmaveer Bharti, says that writing this book was like a heartfelt prayer for him.

"While writing this novel I experienced same type of feelings, which one does, when one is praying with full faith in the time of deep distress.... It appears as if same very prayer has been ingrained in my heart and I am repeating it."

Bhartiji, I assure you that as a reader I had had a similar experience.

Also read this post by Akshaya.

The balance question

We have a simple balance with us. No distortions; analogous to the good old unbiased coin of the bad old questions of probability that you might have solved in your std 12th.

We place 1 kg mass on the one scale and 1/2 a kg mass on the other. The former scale (heavy with its greatness, as a branch full of fruits) goes down lifting the latter scale. Fine? Now we put another 1/2 a kg mass on the second scale, without giving any jerk, any impact, we observe that it comes down (with its newly acquired humility) lifting the first one.

I'm sure each one of us has seen this phenomenon many times. A balance is a very useful and very popular instrument and its ability to balance is so much appreciated that it is accepted as a symbol of justice. But lets chuck philosophy for a while and return to the world of physics. Have you ever wondered why this happens? Why does the first balance comes up and the second balance goes down when we keep the weight on the second one?

This is an interesting question and you can try to solve it.

Try to make a diagram when you put the 1/2 kg weight at the second scale. We see that there are two mutually cancelling torques about the hinge, so we dont have a net torque.

Also, the total potential energy of the system also remains the same(gained by the first and lost by the second).

Any answers?

Krishna Consciousness

Since last weekend some thought waves were disturbing my mind. I allowed them to play their game in my mind and yesterday, finally, while I was riding back to my place, they presented themselves as a coherent picture. Let me share this picture with you and hope you will be able to see it as I did. It might require some abstract thinking but I will try to minimize your efforts. Let's start, come on.

I'm going to explain this, let's say, hypothesis by using a model. Let us visualize this model first. It's a very familiar model. Remember the diagram of an atom? A nucleus surrounded by concentric circles(orbitals) having electrons revolving around it. Also, there are fewer electrons in the orbitals that are closer to the nucleus, for instance there are only 2 electrons present in the 's' orbital. On the other hand we have more number of electrons in the outer orbitals, like 'd' and 'f'. You might have guessed that I am talking about some sort of hierarchy. If you guessed so, you are right. There are very few electrons that are near to the nucleus, and this implies something. I will talk about it in the following paragraphs.

That's my model. And I am sure it will make sense to you. Also, in this model, the nucleus as well as the electrons denote something. We will come to it later on.

Every electron enters to the system from outside the system. It starts from a point at the outermost circle, the periphery, and continues to make its way towards the centre along a spiral path. In every system here, the cyclic coordinate denotes time. The radial coordinate would denote different values as per the nature of the system. In the next paragraph we will talk about it. Usually an electron goes comes and closer to the nucleus as time progresses. It gains that value with the time. Sometimes, under favorable circumstances, a jump from an outer circle to an inner circle is also possible. It means that sooner an electron comes nearer to the nucleus. This jump saves time. A quantum energy is needed for bring about this jump and again it is supplied from different sources in different systems. I hope we are not confused till here.

The thoughts that came to my mind suggested me that there are many types of worlds existing in this universe. All these worlds can be seen and understood by our nucleus-electron model. One of these worlds is a world of truth- the intellectual world. At the center of this world, truth(nucleus) exists. Everything else revolves around truth. Everyone travels along the spiral paths and gain knowledge(value) with time. If a seeker(electron) is lucky enough to find a Guru(energy) then he gets a quantum jump and learns lessons quickly. It's so easy to verify this. By education, by reading books we learn quickly that otherwise would have taken much longer time. And if we get a mentor then the learning process is further catalyzed.

But this intellectual world is an ideal world where truth exists in the center. Actually, in non-ideal intellectual world, truth is slightly dislocated. It is so because the non-ideal intellectual world is generated by the ideal world's mapping on the practical world. When it is mapped on the world we live in, it becomes the academic world which is not a purely intellectual world. In the academic world, unlike the intellectual world, truth is not the nucleus. Every non-ideal world is bi-nuclei world, it has two centers so to say. In the academic world, for example, we have truth as the first and power as the second center. We not only acquire knowledge but also strive to obtain a degree that helps us to achieve some sort of confidence or control that is nothing but an indicative of power. Does that explain the cut-throat competition for IITs and IIMs? Does that explain the meaning of success? Yes, it is nothing but a quantum jump towards the center.

Similarly we have the aesthetic world having beauty at the center. We might have other worlds as well but I think I have mentioned the prominent ones.

Now we can move on to the worldly world that dominates all the other worlds - the political world. It is this world that modifies a purely intellectual world into an academic world by its sort of 'electromagnetic' influence. Now no credit for guessing what lies at the center of this world. Obviously power. Power. It is the power which makes this system run. Again, we must remember that noone, nobody can reach at the center and holds all the power. Look around. Can you find anyone who has infinite power? No. There is noone. Not a single man! Even the most powerful man has his insecurities. Even he has a man or a group of men to be afraid of. You may think about it in detail. But the immutable fact is : The center is not for any electron, there exists the nucleus.

In our world, where we live, we have mostly bi-centric worlds, except the pure political world of course. I acknowledge that this model is a very basic postulate and it can be developed further. I am just presenting a foundation, a template.

These thoughts were disturbing me because I wanted to find out my world. I was seeking the nucleus that will become my goal of life. Will it be truth? Or beauty? Or simply power? Or something else? Which type of electron am I? What is my essential nature, my Dharma? Which element is predominant in me? Yes, that's the word. Predominant. Of course I want and I need all, truth, beauty and power as well, but which of them would rule my destiny?

Ohh, I don't have to worry about that. My destiny will choose me, or perhaps it has already chosen me. My task, my duty is only to allow it to work through me. I must submit myself to it, the higher force.

"I am an experiment on the part of Nature, a gamble within the unknown, perhaps for a new purpose, perhaps for nothing, and my only task is to allow this game on the part of primeval depths to take its course, to feel its will within me and make it wholly mine. That or nothing!" - Hermann Hesse

That's my MORALITY! My only morality!! I am feeling so light! And lighted!

So far so good. I was making sense to myself at least. But then an image flashed in my mind! Out of nothing! It was a revelation! Almost miracle! I have no expression, no word to articulate my amazement. I felt that I have gone crazy! It was so much shaken that I did something very stupid, something I had never done in my life. I bought a cigarette and smoked!

You know what did I see? I saw Krishna! I saw his Sudarshan Chakra.

Eureka!! This is the world we live in, this is the political world!! And His finger is there at the center! He is at the center! He is omnipotent, the one who has absolute power.

Some more contemplation explained our craving for power. As the chakra is revolving around his finger, the proximity to the center gives stability! Those who are at the periphery are weak and vulnerable. They are likely to be thrown out.

I know it was crazy. But this is what it was.

And it was not all.

I thought how amazing it is. Krishna is in the power chakra and he is also outside it!! Wow! So there are other ways to go to him. Yes there is spiritual way, nay there are many, infinitely many spiritual ways. Every religion is a way. All the ways lead to Him.

Then the halo around his head attracted my attention. Ha Ha.... I found the intellectual world as well! And His head is at its center. His head is the nucleus. The truth lies in His head. We can never know it all. We are not allowed the truth. Though we can and we do acquire knowledge.

I was actually feeling out of my senses. Strange thoughts were invading my poor mind. And I was secretly enjoying as well. But I must admit I was a little scared.

The last thing that needed an explanation was Love. Where is love in this schema? I didnt see it anywhere. It is perhaps too fine for my eyes. But then I thought that it is love that is the reason behind everything. It is the force that inspire electrons to revolve around the nucleus. It is.. ohh I must stop, it is blasphemous to talk more about it, it is ineffable, it should not be trivialized...

Last Night

I usually take long walk in night, alone, or with little mp3 player which sings my favorite songs for me. Music and night and solitude!! Wow!! It's SUBLIME! It's complete. Perfect. You dont want anything else. You don't get tired. You almost walk on air. You just feel happy. It's my type of fun, and I can't tell you how much I love it! I have always loved night. I have always been in awe of her beauty, her capacity to flood me with delight and intoxication. She inspires imagination and give it wings to fly away to distant lands, vast oceans, high hills and dark forests that I have never seen before. I see myself picking flowers I never had smelt before, fruits I never had tasted before. I look for my Eve and we eat all sort of forbidden apples in our garden. I create my own small world there where all my little dreams are fulfilled. It's the very existence of this world, however ephemeral and however volatile, that gives me enough enthusiasm to face the sun next day! Don't you have your own little world where you visit and get rejuvenated? I am sure you must have one. Anyways, lets come back to night before I talk more nonsense. But still I don't understand how others fail to see the way I see. Believe me, night is made for sleeping, and something else, and something else too.

OK. Let me ask you a question, an interesting question. Have you ever wondered how many type of nights we have? Think. Have you ever thought that tommorow's night will be different from yesterday's night! Why? Oh it's so simple. It's so because we have so many moons. And so many stars. And so we have so many nights! The landscape of sky remains the same every day, but it alters every night. And so the world remains the same every day, but it alters every night! We have at least 15 type of nights depending on the shape of the moon. And then 14 more depending on the moods of the moon. It is altogether a different experience to see a moon on its way to her glory. Those nights, of course, she shines more cheerfully. Her face glows with only she knows what. And then comes the festival, the night of the full moon! Oh it's the night of magic! How else can you explain what happen to us? It's the night when poetry descends onto earth, from heaven, in form of milky smoke, giving highs to mankind. It's the night when love blooms in the heart of men and women. It's the night when desire stretches her limbs in every breathing creature. That's her charm! That's her magic! We can hardly capture her magnificence in words. She is ineffably fine for words. She slips through them.

Can you find the Great Bear tonight? No, you have to wait till summers. But yes, you can see Orion if you want to. What I want to say is that if we include the stars and their patterns then we have even more type of nights. I dont know how many. But sufficiently many. Don't you feel thrilled? I do. I have so many varieties to explore and enjoy! Apart from it, I feel a sense of freedom in night. I find a privacy in the openness. Free from heat and dust and noise and haste, I walk freely knowing that nobody is looking at me.

I had developed this habit during my stay in Germany and now this has become a part of my life.

Last night too I felt an urge to take a long walk, at 11.30 night. Some questions had demanded a ransom of appropriate answers to release my peace of mind that they had abducted. So I had to think over them.

But can you do anything when there are people with evil intentions ambushing behind some shady place waiting for you to pass by? I was almost scared when Ravi put his hand on my shoulder. I thought that my songbird is in danger, its so nice, anyone would want to have it. And I was in no mood to part with it. Well I knew karate once upon a time but I am not that young and strong anymore! And anyways my punches and kicks have long been decimated by rust due to disuse thanks to my peaceful(ahem) nature. I put off my earphones and shook hands with him. Thankfully it was him. Then I saw Akshaya who was walking towards me with utmost physical application, stuffed with kebab as he was, and looked like a typical character of one of (his favorite-) RGV's underworld movie. And he was doing what he always does - he was saying something. Bad of course as I made him walk. In summary, apart from breaking my chain of thoughts they blasted me for not hearing their calls and having been devillishly lucky to miss the pebble they threw at me! Mind you they are my friends!

Well, I knew that the night had been ruined. I had to salvage whatever I could. So I sat with them and listened to them. Akshaya lambasted in his usual style a few popular writers and IIMs and professors and us of course :)

After sometime, an irrepressible desire of having tea surged in Akshaya's body. That means that the night is gone! It has happened with us earlier too. We came back at 4.30. That too because we had to attend office. Yesterday too we took our bikes and rode to Pune railway station. I love that place. I love that place. I love that place. I rode at 100 kmph, wow! the night was saved finally! It was such a fun to fly on the empty roads! Boy, night is beauty!

We had had our tea with Sachin and Sahir. Sahir whom I worship, even Akshaya does so and anyone else would do, provided he has two things- 1. a heart, and 2. exposure. Even talking about Sahir is so much fun!

What else does one need in life! Sometimes I wonder why people are crazy after useless things when happiness is spread in so many little things. Almost everything which can give you enduring happiness is free! You don't have to be a millionaire to buy music, noone can buy music. Neither night nor solitude. Leave it. I was so happy. Music and night and solitude, everything was there. I dont exactly remember what we talked because it doesnt matter. I remember that I felt quite nice and I wanted to stay there and had more cups of tea. I wanted more Sahir and more Sachin and more of everything. But again, we had to come to office today. So we rode back at 4.30.

I am amuse - The critique

I have already talked to Akshaya about it. I will not write an exhaustive review. I dont have energy to do that.

I know Akshaya through his writings at this website. Click on that link,I am sure you'ld like it.

Every age is marked by a force, a predominant force that shapes the psyche of that generation. This force influences us in every conceivable manner, economically, culturally, intellectually and psychologically. I think we are living in the age of corporatocracy. Arundhati Roy, Noam Chomsky and other contemporary philosophers are extensively working in this area and letting us see what is invisible with eyes we are allowed to have thanks to media. And thus every serious, purposeful and responsible writer is bound to express his views, if not his stand, about it. If you click on the above link, you will come to know about his views as well his stand on this. There is no ambiguity, he is characteristically unequivocal about it - he is dead against this corporatocracy, the postmodern evil.

Lets come back to the play. Before the beginning and after the end of the play the organizers profusely thanked the sponsers without whose support the staging of the play could not have been possible. It struck me how Akshaya would have felt then! I realized how awfully difficult it is to be a writer! Even Noam Chomsky needs the support of media to criticize it! And media is confident enough to allow some gadflies buzzing around.

1. The realization that you can hardly aspire to fulfil your dreams without the financial support of the one you deeply despise is emotionally exhausting. Read this. I cant imagine what damage it can do to your self-esteem if you actually go and ask for his help!

But this is what you have to do.

2. You have to keep in mind the psyche of your audience, the english-speaking people consisting of a majority with egos bigger than brains. I am talking about the majority of course. They come to theatre to see highbrow stuff and not the regular bourgeois kitsch. They are well-read people and they have fairly good taste due to exposure to quality literature. So you have to sell them something that appeals to their genteel taste. You must do justice with their high expectations. However, you must keep in mind that your play should, most favorably, give them a chance to relate to what they have already seen. Most of them come to see what they have already seen. This helps them to pass expert comments to the uninitiated lot and feel nice about it. As an Indian, creating something really original could be taken as insolently ambitious!

3. India is a huge country and you are a small person who belongs to a small place having small issues. You might be having a cosmopolitan outlook and all that but you are most likely to be touched by the things that have shaped your thought structure. There are certain regional issues that seems important to you. And as a writer you wish to do something about it. You want others to be sensitized about it. But given the diversity of our culture, you might feel absolutely un-understood or even misunderstood by your audience. It is difficult for a parsi, born and brought up in Mumbai to relate with the issues in the life of a Bengali woman.

So all english-speaking, theatre-going people have a better idea about European life than about the Indian life, whatever it might be. Keep this point in your mind.

Accepting this severely delimits your choice of subject. Now, given all the other considerations and constraints, you are not very much encouraged to raise Indian issues. So, as Akshaya says, give them comedy!

Now I am going to give my review on the play. I have taken two parameters by which I am going to judge the play. One is the choice of subject and the other is the treatment of subject.

1. The Writer: Perhaps writing a good comedy is not easy, so give them something that is in and which has some cerebral quality as well. But what? Mystery? Suspense? Thriller? Good enough for a novel but perhaps not feasible in a play. So invoke psychology, and all the concepts of alter-ego, schizophrenia etc.

The choice of subject was decent. And politically correct. It was, I think, written to entertain and it did the job successfully, I must say. The treatment of the subject was even better. The good acting and quality direction seized the attention of the audience.

2. The Drunkards: Personification of one's alter-ego and presentation of the inner conflicts that wage a war in one's mind. A topping of wit with some twists and turns sprinkled over it. Overall a delicious preparation! Akshaya is a readers' writer and the readers like him for whatever he writes. A brilliant effort.

The choice of the subject was suitable for his debut. Very un-Akshayally he wrote a nensensical play that made some good sense, keeping in mind the other factors that were too important to be ignored. This play could have been staged anywhere in the world, in India or abroad, and aroused more or less similar response. The identity of the audience didnt matter much. This was a safe play that was played safely. It continued to grasp the attention of the audience. It is nice to write for the readers without having to do anything with them! Indian readers deserve nothing better. Indian audience deserve the same.

The plot is, no doubt, interestingly made. Very artfully and very subtly, and in the course of the play, very smoothly, the dominating and the dominated selfs exchange places. The acting was superb and so was the direction. I had gone there to watch this play and I must say that I was not dissatisfied with it.

3. Cross talk: Disappointing. 'I am amuse' dies here. I could see no muse in any of the following playlets. I could see no link between this playlet to the preceeding ones. And I could see no sense, no purpose anywhere anytime in this one. This failed to keep the momentum that had been created by the earlier plays. And it failed to entertain us even. And why the hell this title - 'I am amuse'? Why not 'I am a muse'? And why not something even better?

4. End of innocence: This was about a boy who was reproached and humiliated for failing in mathematics test. His parents contrasted him with his kid sister who was in the same grade and topped the class. Noone seemed to be happy about his extraordinary performance in literature.

I liked the choice of the subject. Comparison among siblings, suppression of creativity of an individual etc are relevant topics to talk about. Our society is yet to find an answer to these questions. So we must be reminded that these issue do exist.

But the treatment of this subject was pathetic. The direction as well as the acting was mediocre. This playlet demended more sensitivity and vision than provided by the director. The boy tenaciously defends himself with the blunt dialogues he is given and imparts little effect on the audience. He is stripped of his dignity and tenderness that would have given more strength to his character. He is made to present his marks in english to justify his being poor in maths and he is made to invoke a number to drive his point home. Instead, his gift in arts could have been shown more subtly, less loudly and more effectively, and perhaps with an element of surprise as well. There should have baan a scene and a situation to do what is done by the boy. This surely would have done more justice to the purpose of the writer. But the writer didnt appreciate the power of the unsaid. And the director couldnt provide the dramatic effect to a good idea. The point is to be understood is that everyone knows what the writer wants to say, the content doesnt matter much here. Here you need to show the ghar-ghar ki kahani in such a manner that the audience realize that it is wrong. Art has a power to convert but there was little art in this play.

5. Down payment: I do not believe in comparisons but its simplicity made it the best. The choice of the subject could hardly have been better. I am in IT industry and I have seen people living their life hinged on credit cards and insurance policies. 'Take loan, shop and pay later' has become a lifestyle. We have become runaway consumers and we readily book a flat, a car and what not immediately after getting a job. We need such reminders.

The treatment of the subject was also good. The plot was very simple and it didnt need much input from the director. I am sure the audience will remember the message of this play long after they will have forgotten all the other.

On the whole, watching this play was a nice experience for me. It justified my riding to Jazz Garden, Koregaon Park, a place I am not very crazy about.

The villains and heroes around us

*continued..

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VILLAIN: This MLA is the REAL villain. But he is not a villain because he is an MLA. Dont get confused by (media-created) stereotypes. Open your eyes. He could very well be an Armani-clad, english (with french toppings!) speaking corporate mogul too. He comes in many forms, he changes faces, he very subtly disguises himself behind the various veils we naively provide to him.

They smile and smile and still be villain. - Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoevsky)

The villain they show in the movies is unreal, a very simplified version of this real villain. This real villain is not loud and vulger. His looks are not abnormally made-up. You can hardly recognize him in a crowd. He is not even a one-man-army. He has, when he is alone, his limitations and his insecurities. This villain is rather a man of system; a part of a greater, much greater structure. He understands the system, respects it, submits to it and is happy with it. He very well understands the mechanism of power. He knows that power doesnt reside in an individual but in the network. This networks sustains him. This network protects him. And so he values his allies or contacts who are placed at (or are chosen from) the strategic positions. He knows the rules of the game. He knows what is exactly happening around. His runs his business smoothly in this perfectly harmonized world, a world of 'prey and let prey'. He is cheerfully sure of himself and he feels unassailable in this impregnable fortress. He is pleasant and sociable. He makes you like him. He asks you about your mother's health and your daughter's admission in the college. He takes pleasure in the trifling details of life. He has no ideal to die for. Infact he mocks at idealists and pities their naivety. He is cool amd amiable. He cracks jokes and keeps himself surrounded by giggling females. For him, morality(!!) exists within the system. He knows of no morality without it. His sense of corruption is distorted; interestingly but not surprisingly, for him disturbing the harmony, the equilibrium of the system is an act of corruption. He accepts the things as they are. He worships the rising sun, the right God. Very naturally, very comfortably he changes his loyalties and rationalizes his priorities. He is pragmatic. He is wise. In the later stages of his life you can hear him preaching about right and wrong, properiety and improperiety and 'money-is-not-everything'. He is necessarily religious and invokes mythological(which are at his fingertips) events and metaphors to support his actions and position every now and then. All his goons are his Hanumans! For even worse things(promiscuity or politics of the most diabolical nature), Krishna is dragged down from heavens. He goes for pilgrimage every year. And finally he builds a temple and settles all the accounts.

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HERO: On the other hand our DCP saheb is a poor victim of his own ideals. He burdens his mind with the things that are outdated and that noone takes seriously. Perhaps he takes life a little too seriously. Perhaps he should not. He actually gets distressed by seeing others in distress. Perhaps he should not. Remember Dr Bhaskar Bannerjee in Anand? Remember his angst, his bitterness? Remember his grit with which he fights his own helplessness before the enormity of the monster he was fighting with? Like his other friends, he can not pretend to be pained by the ubiquitous misery around him at one moment and gleefully plan a comedy movie the next moment. Perhaps he should also learn to ignore things. Perhaps he should also learn to forget things.

But he doesnt forget what his father had tought him when he was a kid. He doesnt forget even when his father himself teaches him just the opposite of what he had tought him when he was a kid. He is incorrigibly idealistic. He just doesnt understand that the real world is not that good.

The real world is a place where everyone is converting into bad simply because everyone else is doing so!

To start with, he is a betrayed man. He has been betrayed by his books and teachers. Oh how I wish he knew the efficacy with which the books cover the reality! That realization wouldve averted the disillusionment and heartbreak. He is like a man who was trained in cricket and was sent to a stadium where a football match was being played. And he stood like an idiot in the middle of the playground with his bat, amazed and clueless, amid guffawing spectators. What should he do there? He is like an actor who finds himself totally out of place at the stage. He finds that a different play is being staged. Imagine this situation! He is not required, not wanted but still he is there. He feels absolutely alienated there. What does a hero do here? We'll come to that in a while.

He observes that the real world works very differently from the bookish world. And noone cares or dares to write what actually happens around us. There are things that are known to all but said by none. He wonders why the world is like that. He wonders what to do with his bat in the football match?

Catch 22. Since he can function only within a (legal) framework and the framework is itself a device of the system, it is deliberately not made powerful enough to challenge the system. If he chooses to fight his battle without the (legal) framework then he himself becomes an outlaw, a criminal! He is nothing outside the system. He needs the system to beat it! And of course the system would not allow itself to be beaten. But this was so ridiculously simple! Why didnt he think it earlier? When he realizes the obvious absurdity in his erstwhile expectation, he feels foolish and frustrated.

He might decide to take the things head-on. Then he finds himself living against someone or something. Always. 24*7. His life virtually becomes a guerilla war, he finds himself thinking about the moves of the game he has pushed himself into. This game takes a toll on his personal life too. He most likely becomes irascible and grows sharp claws that hurt those who are near to him. His relationships start suffering. People gradually start avoiding him. After sometime he feels so much lonely that his battle seems to be only for the sake of his ego and nothing else. Perpetual loneliness cast a shadow on his life. He doesnt know what to do. Remember Shool?

Most of the people dont see the life of heroism beyond this stage. They succumb to the mounting pressure. But he, the hero, persists. He has the character to persist.

He starts delivering his dialogues at the stage. He doesnt mind others. He doesnt mind their indifference. He doesnt mind their hoots, their cries, and their vociferous protests. He deflates the self-assurance of the other actors who were banking on his passivity. Now it's their turn to be taken by surprise. Now it's their turn to feel that they are vulnerable too. The audience come to know about the other, the alternative play. Now they can choose between the two. They first step is taken. The first battle is won.

Camus says that the ultimate hero of humanity is Sisyphus* (read this). He somewhat repeats to what Krishna had suggested to Arjun (Karmanyevadhikaraste.. or Swadharme nadhanam shreyah paradharmoh bhayavayah) in Bhagavat Geeta.

A hero exhibits an unflinching faith, an indomitable devotion in his purpose. He stands by his values. He lives for what he believes in and he dies for the same. He might not be pragmatic but then a hero is NEVER a practical man. A practical, worldly man can never evoke strong emotions and respect from us.

The hero makes his own way. He challenges the unchallengables. He defeats the skepticism of others who are too weak to do so. He breaks the matrix by breaking its nodes one by one, with utmost patience. I have recently watched a movie called 'Ek ruka hua faisla'. In this movie, a man, who is the hero, changes the opinion of all his adversaries one by one. Watch the movie to see why this man is a hero.

Popular cinema perpetuates the myth that a vanquishing a villain is a necessary condition for a man to be a hero. Infact even the presence of an external villain is not needed. A man becomes a hero by winning over hsi own frailties that are abundant in anyone of us. This is an important point to understand.

The concept of hero is very interesting, as I see it. Initially people pull his leg, they block his way, they deny him their attention, they make fun of him. Perhaps they do it perhaps because they refuse to accept his superiority over them. Those who are near to him do it out of jealousy and others because of habit. But once he crosses a threshold, they admire him and raise him up. They positively want him to rise higher and shine brighter. They look up to him. He becomes the center of their hope. They fight on behalf of him coz they fight through him. They win through him. They live through him. They need him for themselves. He gives them a direction. He leads them. He frees them.

First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win. - Mahatma Gandhi

* Greek Mythology: Sisyphus is forced to roll a block of stone against a steep hill, which tumbles back down when he reaches the top. Then the whole process starts again, lasting all eternity.

My description of villain and hero might seem to you philosophically unteneble or unfounded. It might be dificult to be defended but it is not unfounded. This is what I have seen in my life and I have written it here at the risk of being laughed at in case you find yourself unable to relate to my experiences. Let me say that it is in no way an exhaustive definition or something of that sort. I never intend to do that. I have never done that. The scope of this essay is just a part of what I have seen and felt. I recognize that it is incomplete.