LOVELORN

One arbitrary feeling.

2009-04-21T13:18:00.000-07:00

I marvel at your memory. Mine is so bad, it never forgets you even for a moment...

A phoney affair

2009-01-24T03:43:00.000-08:00

It all happened on the phone, hence a phoney affair. Pun intended.I consider my generation to be the luckiest one. We got to live in several ages in one lifetime. Some of you may want to disagree and hence, not to attract a lot of criticism from the very first, I would like to say, at least I did. Not that I am afraid of criticism but I want to be read, like I want to be loved. I strongly feel that there would have been no Salman Rushdie, no Taslima Nasreen but for the criticism, and fatwas. Nah, I am not comparing myself with them, nor am I going to write anything very controversial, but still.Let's get back to work. I have tried to understand the life in my own ways and love has always been a tool. Being a romantic dreamer that I am, I wonder, if there can be a better tool. It was love which made me see the changes in the world. From a slow moving snail mail to email to gmail chat, from the landline to the mobile phone. All have come handy in my love exploits, rather it was love which made me familiar, rather somewhat adept, with most of the technical advancements in the world around me. Otherwise, I would have been more technically challenged.Now about this phoney affair. It didn't start with some arbitrary call and me hitting the right chord with the caller and then moving along. I knew the person and we became close with some accident of destiny, over which no one had any control. And we started talking, talking for long hours, talking on the mobile phone. I would like to call the affair phoney because it was on phone that it bloomed, and there it wilted. No one but the phone knew that something was cooking up between the two of us and it was the first to know that it was all over. It stands witness to the love that was there, the frequent and long call durations from both sides and the SMSes. Witness to the SMSes that used to be long once from both the sides, and then started gettig shorter from the other side, and my replies getting longer as if to clutch and revive her dipping interest in me, and then shrinking in size from my side too, as if yielding to the painful truth that she loved me no more. Witness to the calls which used to be frequent and long initially to my calls, that were put on waiting and were never replied to.It is not that we didn't use to meet in the physical world. We used to meet but at work places only, surrounded by people. And in those meetings, we did professional talk only. Our persoal talks were limited to the mobile phones, late in the night and through the day. We used to spend so much time together, on phone, that we didn't spend with our friends or family members in the physical world. We used to eat, drink, sleep and watch movies together, on the phone. Like we had become inseparable, on the phone.And let me tell you the sad truth of this phoney affair. My love had shifted from the person I loved to the person I talked to. Don't get confused. They were not two different persons. They were one and the same but I had the feelings only for the person I talked to on the phone. I had started talking to her because I loved her but later I felt that I used to and wanted to meet her because I talked to her. Because she was the embodiment, the personification of the person I talked to and I loved.This might sound weird and insane. I too understood this fact only when we parted. I used to miss the person I talked to more than the real person. I longed to talk to her on phone and she didn't. I could meet her even after parting with a straight face like nothing had ever existed between us and I had no complaints against her. I have complaints, but against the person I used to talk to on the phone and not against her embodiment. Because I would not wait for her at some odd place or our meeting place but would sit, holding my mobile phone in my hand waiing for her to call. Whenever it would ring, I would think she had called.Friends, I believe mine is not the only case of my kind in this world. I am sure that there are many like me who are having a phoney affair. People running short of time think they are compensating it with the help of technology. But try to see the damage and disorder it is causing.I would also like to add one more line. One of my previous woman bosses used to say that my face was very transparent and it could not keep secrets. Few days back, a previous colleague who is on my gmail chat said, "Your status message says everything about you."I would only like to say in the end, don't let technology become your face.

PS: This was written on August 20, 2008 but could not be published due to some reasons, then.

Quit smoking!!!

2008-06-09T11:18:00.000-07:00

It has been more than eight months since I stubbed the butt of my last cigarette and hence, I have never touched a cigarette. My decision to quit smoking coincided with the birthday of a friend. Though she had nothing to do with me quitting smoking, but that’s how I remember the day I quit smoking and also the day she was born.
Like every morning, I woke up on September 29 and went downstairs from my room to have my daily share of smoke. It was a Saturday and my weekly off and I had no cash with me. But I had been so regular, buying cigarette from the shop below my house that I didn’t feel that the shopkeeper would refuse me a cigarette just because I didn’t have money at one instance. I went to the shop; the shop was being manned by the shopkeeper’s son. I asked for a cigarette and was given a Navy Cut. I put it between my lips and was about to lit it. I told the man that I would pay later as I wasn’t carrying change. To be honest, I had no money at the moment. The shopkeeper’s son protested, “You shouldn’t have taken the cigarette if you didn’t have the cash.” I told him to take back the cigarette t which he replied that I had put it between my lips. So keep quiet, I will give you your money later, I told him sternly and left the shop.
I felt insulted. I went to my room and lit the cigarette and as I breathed the puffs deeper and longer, I felt humiliated too. Humiliated, because of a cigarette worth Rs 3.50! Why can’t I bridle my desire to smoke? Why do I have to go every morning to have a cigarette before starting the day? What does it offer me? Smoke, insult and susceptibility to diseases. By the time, I pulled the last puff deeper and deeper, I had decided. This was the last cigarette I was smoking. And thus I quit smoking.
The desire to quit smoking had always been there but the will was lacking. And the will had been weakened by my own perceptions over the time. Every time I would decide to quit smoking I used to yield to the temptation of breathing one last puff which never turned out to be the last one. And I had concluded that the cigarette was my Mehbooba (beloved). A mehbooba whom whenever I wanted pressed between my lips. A beloved who never protested, nor ever indulged in any kind of histrionics. Both of us were singeing ourselves to burn the other and both of us were deriving pleasure from the fire.
Perceptions! They keep changing. There had been a time when I used to think that she was the girl I could not live without. She went away. And still I survived.
Initially, when she had left me, I found a ready companion in cigarettes. There had come a time when I used to smoke as many as three packs of cigarettes. I would light one before kick starting my bike while going to office. I would stop on the way and light another and finally, after reaching the officer I would smoke. That was how I had recoiled to smoking cigarettes in the aftermath of that relationship. That was not the first relationship I had been in nor the last but one thing, I can say for sure is that that was the relationship in which I had invested maximum emotional energy, so much so, that I feel emotionally bankrupt in relationships and friendships I have been in after that.
I had picked up the habit of smoking when I was at BHU. It was surely not under peer pressure as not any of my friends smoked. It might have been to show off. What had started as a fad had turned into an addiction by the time I joined IIMC at Delhi. However, I had been successful in keeping the count of cigarettes I smoked very low till I got into job. And then…

Wardrobe Malfunction!

2007-06-08T02:58:00.000-07:00

I don’t remember when, why and how did I pick up the habit of putting up trousers low but one thing that I remember is that it had been too early to be influenced by the fashion bug as it had not come in vogue when I was at school, and yes, the habit is that old for sure.
My low pants have always attracted sarcastic remarks from friends and relatives but hard skinned as I am, I did not change the way I wear my pants over the years. Even a woman I love(d) very much used to tease me for the way I used to wear my jeans, for they invariably hanged low from the waist and were oversize. Poor outfits were turn-offs for her and the way I dressed looked poor to her. I didn’t change and she dumped me. Well, I don’t mean she dumped me just because of my poor dressing sense; there must have been other reasons too. Let me not bore you once again with all those stuff.
Let me make it clear at the outset that my poor dressing sense doesn’t mean that I wear dirty or cheap cloths. They are almost always branded and always clean. The problem is with the way I put them on.
Let us come to the main story. My sister, brother-in-law and two niece had come to visit me in Delhi and one day, I went with them for shopping. I had to buy some cloths for sister and niece and we headed for Sarojini Nagar maket. The moment I ventured out of the house, my 12-year-old niece passed jeers at me. “Mama, why have you put on your jeans so low. It is not looking good at all and you are not looking like a reporter at all.”
I argued with her and made her understand that I am not known by the way I dress. I am a reporter and I am not made to make style statement, but to make statements, as is famously said of journalists.
We reached SN Market and my brother-in-law and nieces parted ways from me and my sister to move around the market on their own. My sister and I entered into a sari shop and asked the salesman to show us saris. The first question the salesman asked was what was your range. As my sister had come to visit me for the first time after I had got a job, I wanted to pamper her. I replied show us the stuff without bothering about the price.
The salesman started showing saris but he was not showing good stuff and the price of the stuff he was showing was less than Rs 2500. None of us liked the stuff he showed in about an hour, I looked around the shop and asked him to show a sari that was on display.
I had to ask him four times after which he showed the sari and both me and my sister liked the sari at first glance. I made the payment of Rs 4500 for the sari after a little bargaining through my debit card. Once I made the payment for the saris, the salesman started showing me saris that were more beautiful and higher on price range. To my surprise, he showed us more saris in the next 15 minutes than he had showed in the first one hour. I scoffed at him that had he shown all these suff earlier I would not have had to waste so much time and I would have bought at least one sari he showed later at one glance. It did not strike me then that it was because of my poor dressing that he miscalculated my budget.
It was fuzzy by the time we were through and decided to go to Dilli Haat as it was nearby and no visit to Delhi is considered complete without visiting the place. I had also been there with the girl I love(d) several times and I love to visit that place still whenever I get an opportunity.
We reached there and after eating some chaat-waat , we were loitering around in the haat. When my sister and niece were looking at some artifacts in a stall, I was standing a little away. A woman came to me and asked the price of some stuff on display. As I moved a few steps without replying and my niece and brother-in-law started laughing at me (my dressing sense) once again, the woman understood the error she had made and said sorry. I swallowed the humiliation as my folks made fun of me.
And then we decided to leave. As we headed towards the exit gate, a young man walked to me and introduced himself, “I am from Max New York Life Insurance.” Expecting that he would ask me to buy some life insurance policies, I listened to him. But the next line he uttered was like he poured buckets of water upon me. He said, “We are looking for people who would sell out policies to people around them.” Ashamed, I replied, “Sorry, I am not interested,” and walked on.
Now this time my brother-in-law started scolding me, “Why don’t you wear your cloths properly. Someone thinks you are a salesman, others think that you are unemployed. The way you dress forms an important component of your personality.”
Convinced beyond doubt and unable to bear so much humiliation in one day, we headed once again to SN Market and I bought a brand new Levis jeans.
So I finally changed the way I dress because of jeers and sneers of people in one day. The answer is a resounding ‘No’.
This time too the jeans were one size bigger than me and they too hang as loosely as other pairs do.
Well, I am convinced that dress is an important part of one’s personality and would like the way I dress to change. But the change has to be spontaneous; on it’s own and not induced by rejection and humiliation heaped by others.

An open letter...

2007-05-27T02:51:00.000-07:00

Hello Bhatiya,
I don’t know you nor do I want to know who you are. But the scathing comment you left on my last posting warranted a reply and I was forced to write you an open letter for you had left me no other option by denying me access to your email address. And I hope you would visit my page once again to read the letter…
Anyway, your criticism was pinching and left me sleepless for some nights. The question reared its head in my mind if I had really crossed the line of decency by writing my exploits, which you said is good fodder for readers’ fantasy, and which are of course very personal and involves someone who is very dear to me. (I also wondered what made you stop short of calling my exploits a figment of my fantasy!)
It is not that your comment was any great; any person with average intelligence and education would have made same comment; for that that is the way your upbringing prepares you to comment on such things. It is only after you get some education in and exposure to literature, you become more open to the idea of sex and passion being inseparable parts of love.
Being a student of Sanskrit literature, I don’t need your help in classifying what I write. You can call it cheap because there is a lot of passion in it but then that is the limitation of your understanding as you cannot see the undertone of the posting which is full of love and the pain of its loss. Before I write something else, I would like to suggest you (for it costs nothing!) to read the Sanskrit classic of Kalidas, Kumarsambhavam, in which the great poet has vividly depicted the lovemaking scenes of Lord Shiva and Parvati. The depiction is so crude and descriptive that it is said that after writing that part of the Mahakavya, Kalidas earned the wrath of the Lord and fell ill. He had to do penance before he could complete the work. No doubt, Kalidas was a great scholar and his works are unparalleled in the History and despite being full of sexual overtures, his works are called classics.
Such examples galore in all the literatures of the world. And there is one particular reason why I cited this example. And that is that one meaning of the name of my character is Parvati. And I believe that by writing like that if Kalidas could not cast slur on Parvati or defile her, my posting too won’t affect the Goddess. Goddesses are like lotus, though in mud, yet beyond it.
So as far as your genuine suggestion of generating revenue by writing porn story is concerned, I would just like to thank you for your advice. I do write for a living but in newspapers and I am making good enough for myself. So you needn’t worry about that. My blog is my personal space in the virtual world and that I write just to give vent to my feelings and I won’t take suggestions from you on what to write, where to write. If ever there would be anything like what you suggested, it would be here only. So keep visiting my blog.
But the initial question still remains unanswered. What was it in your comment that made me go sleepless for some nights? Well, I wondered what was it in my writing that influenced a stranger, a non-stake holder, to write a comment like this. Had it come from some other quarters, it would have been understandable. Had it not been for the support extended by the friends, especially that of a lady, who posted her comment as anonymous, I would have removed that posting.
In retrospect, I conclude that if I can elicit such a scathing response from you, a non-stake holder, the purpose of my writing is served. Keep visiting the page for more action...
And your criticism is always welcome...

Amitabh Shankar

Kiss of life!

2007-05-09T14:20:00.000-07:00

Amitabh Shankar

I wanted to gift myself an evening full of love and passion with her. She was to leave for her native place to attend her brother’s wedding the day after. It was about being for a fortnight alone, and it was impossible to live for a moment without her and her memory.
I wanted her to be with me for an evening and she was turning down my requests all the time. Writing an e-mail to her full of emotions was the last resort. My room partner used to call it blackmailing tactics of mine but I used to do it every time I felt like, without compunction. And I wrote one, she was subjugated and she obliged.
I left the office early and picked her from her office. She had to do some shopping, of some artificial jewelry, to match with the cloths she had to wear on her brother’s wedding. And we went to the South Extension. There she looked around the jewelry, she liked some but found the price unreasonable and decided to leave without buying any. I offered to gift her one but she refused to oblige and we left the place.
We decided to go to Pind Baluchi for dinner, a restaurant in Lajpat Nagar, which was probably sealed later. I don’t know if it is still running or not. We had a nice time over dinner. Being from a state bordering Punjab, she kept me telling about the Punjabi culture and the food and their dress and all.
After dinner, we headed to the JNU, the place which I like most and which is also a lovers’ paradise. Sitting on that Partha Sarthi Rock, earlier also we had enjoyed the serenity and the silence of that place. Fresh air and the peace of mind that comes with it adds to the romantic ambience. And this was the place where…
The security guard posted there did not allow us to go to the PSR saying you can go only if you have an I-card and we were not the students. So we decided to go on a walk on the campus. I parked my bike at a secluded place and we went for a walk after the dinner. It was late in the night and not many people were around. We took the east gate road, on which lives the vice chancellor of the university, and very few people take that road.
You need to go on that road to know how beautiful it is during night. The line of trees on both sides and the vapour lights which light up one moment and goes off another make for a romantic setting.
We were talking about everything; about love, relationships and ourselves.
“I don’t know why everyone I talk to proposes to me?” she said.
“When did Varun propose?” I asked.
“How do you know he has proposed to me?”
“I know, it takes just a little of common sense to know that.”
“Hmmm… He proposed to me last night through SMS. I don’t understand why everyone I talk to proposes to me.”
“Because while you ensure that you don’t carry anyone’s tag with your name, you get the tag of being available.”
“My being ‘available’ tag doesn’t mean that anybody comes and takes me along. I think I will have to stop talking to every man.”
“The man you won’t talk to will have his hands around your waist as I am having and you will walk with him alone on these lonely roads.” She giggled.
We had gone too far and she said we should return.
We were talking like always. My hands one her arms and I kissing her all the time on her cheeks, arms and neck. Somehow she left me behind and an idea clicked in my head. I went behind her and put my hands around her waist and lifted her. I was myself surprised by my prowess as her body did not brush against my body for a moment and I lifted her beyond a feet from the ground. She was so surprised that next morning she asked if I had really lifted her or she was just dreaming.
I put her down after few seconds and started walking along with her. Walking by her side was so exciting; I wanted to do all the wild things.
I caught hold of her chin and pulled her lips towards mine. She resisted, half-heartedly though, “Amitabh, Amitabh…” And the next moment our lips met. It was for the first time that I had planted a kiss on her lips. As we parted, she lowered her head.
It is impossible to read a woman’s mind. I don’t know whether she was angry or happy or what but I said sorry.
And as we were walking back again, I put my hands on her shoulder and our bodies pressed closer to each other, and closer … and so close that it ended up in a deep hug. My hands slipped on her back and ended up cupping her butts and then it rose to slip inside her T-shirt. It was soft and slippery like butter inside. Her hands on my back…
And in the dead silence of night, amid heavy breathing of two souls, the sound produced by the rubbing of the zips of jeans was quite audible in the forests of the JNU.
If ever I pass that road again, I still do hear the reverberations… I don't know if she too listens too those reverberations...

2007-04-26T15:37:00.000-07:00

I am feeling like I have lost my place on the earth, where my heart used to rest, my mind loved to wander...

और सब कुछ जानकर अनजान हो तुम

2007-04-18T23:10:00.000-07:00

अधर पर तुमने
हिमानी धर लिया
और सब कुछ जानकर अनजान हो तुम

दिवस बीता और बीती कितनी सदियाँ
अश्रुओं से बही जाने कितनी नदियाँ
पीर का सागर समाया हृदय मेरे
आँधियाँ तूफान आई हैं घनेरे
पर हृदय पाषाण तेरा नहीं पिघला
फिर भी मेरी हो, मेरी पहचान हो तुम

भावनाओं का समुंदर कितना गहरा
और मावस लगाती दिन रात पहरा
क्यों रूला जातीं बसंती ये हवायें
हर तरफ ख़ामोश-सी लगती फ़िजायें
इक अज़ब तूफान साँसों में समाया
डोलती रहती है पातों-सी ये काया
भूलना मुमकिन नहीं है इस जनम में
तुम ही मेरी हो, मेरी ही प्राण हो तुम

जब तेरे नयनों की भाषा तौल लाया
मेरे मन का गीत कुछ ना बोल पाया
तब ग़ज़ल इक शे’र बनकर रह गई
और मेरा कवि ये सब सह गई
दिल की हर तनहाइयों में तेरी छाया
श्वास में निःश्वास में बस तुझे पाया
तू भले माने न माने ये अलग है
तुम ही मेरी उदय औ अवसान हो तुम

क्या पता ये जीव कब तक जी सकेगा
विरह का ये घूँट कब तक पी सकेगा
मिलन की घड़ियाँ पुनः आये ना आये
और दिल ये बात सुन पाये न पाये

घर घड़ी तूफान भी सहता रहूँगा
सौ समुन्दर पार हो बहता रहूँगा
पर किनारा मिलेगा, यह ध्रुव अटल है
तुम ही मेरी नाव हो, जलयान हो तुम

An evening with my life!

2007-04-13T07:13:00.000-07:00

And there I was, at The Rendezvous, the street side coffee shop behind the majestic building at the Connaught Place in the capital. There she was, waiting for me with a colleague of hers, a so-called good friend of mine.
As three of us had our coffee and indulged in mundane (rather frivolous leg pulling) talks, her boss called her up and ordered her to cover an assignment at the Press Club prior to the visit of the Chinese premiere. There was something sort of exhibition showing the atrocities of the communist regime of China on the innocent citizens of the country.
As the press club fell on the route to my office, I offered her to drop her there as I had enough time before I had to reach my office. And of course, did I want to spend more and more time in her company which I like(d) more than anything else on this earth.
Even as I dropped her at the press club, she asked if I was going to accompany her to the exhibition. Saying ‘NO’ was out of question.
The exhibition was on the first floor of the building and as we scaled the stairs, we found that there was nobody looking at us, as the staircase and the area in view was deserted. Emboldened and having been in the habit of doing this always, I put my hands around her waist. Surprisingly, she came closer whereas she would have protested me getting physically close to her at any public place. As we again came in full public view, I pulled off my hand and walked into the Exhibition Hall.
We received King’s welcome there. All the exhibitionists there surrounded us from all sides and were replying to our queries like only we could make their cause successful. The scene was strange. Having been a reporter, I have been to cover many assignments like that but never got that kind of attention. Being with a beautiful woman has wonderful advantages.
As they replied to our queries, she was sending some signals. Well, mind can not catch them but there are other sense organs which are efficient at doing that. She was standing so close to me that it seemed as if she wanted to tell the onlookers that she was with me, not only physically, but at a higher level. She was brushing against my body body every now and then.
As their explanations became boring, we left the place and again while coming down the stairs, she was cozy in my arms. I had a feeling that there was something wrong with the woman, the woman whom I loved like anything, rather more than anything.
As she sat side-legged on my bike and I was on the way to drop her back to her office, she asked at what time you have to reach office. I thought she would say that she would rather take an auto than bothering me and I said, “I have enough time, you don’t worry.”
She said she wanted to go to India Gate, which was only few hundred metres from there. I was getting late to office, I said, “I don’t have even that much time.”
As I reached the Le Meridien Gol Chakkar, I turned my bike towards India Gate. She asked, “Where are you going?” I replied, “Let’s go to India Gate for 10 minutes.”
Every moment spent with her was like a blessing, a boon, and I could not say no to that offer.
Reached the beautiful India Gate lawns which was shimmering under the moonlight, I don’t know if it was a full moon lit night or not but who gives a damn, when the moon is with you, in your arms. It was almost deserted and fuzzy, not many people were there apart from the two of us and few other couples. The preparation for the Republic Day celebrations was on and iron chairs had been stacked there to make sitting arrangements for the occasion. And a concrete platform behind them made for a perfect setting for a memorable date.
The romance was in the air, or was it within? As I rested my lips and my nose on her face, she looked at the shadow on the ground and exclaimed, “See, how beautiful it looks”
Unlucky as I was, I turned to look at the shadow but with me turning, the shadow was gone. I asked her to return the favour but she did not oblige.
Surrounded by the darkness, with a milky white woman in your arms, keeping the man (the animal) within me was impossible. I turned her face towards me slowly, and put my lips on her lips, she parted them and our tongues met, and went on a long journey…
"Amitabh, your mouth stinks."
"What?"
"It is smelling of cigarette's smoke." She giggled.
And then we kissed several times, my hands wandered all around on her body slipped inside her shirt. In between, she said, “Amitabh, I want to say something.”
Surprised I was, My God, what bomb she was going to drop? I rose from her side, sat on my knees in front of her and said, “Say.”
“Amitabh, I don’t love you.”
“I know. What else?”
“I feel I am attracted towards you.”
Like the words speak louder than action.
I held her by her shoulder and started kissing her, kissing her madly, everywhere. I was kissing her, my hands doing their jobs meticulously. Even as I tried to spread her legs, she said, "Amitabh, what are you doing?" "What do you think I am doing?" There was silence and once agaon I sat by her side.
As it grew fuzzier, I said it was too late now and we should go to our office now. “I am getting late.”
As we were walking towards our bike, I hugged her. “Amitabh, what are you doing at a public place like this.”
“Why don’t you come to my place with me, then?”
Silence again!

Parking on DND flyway!

2007-04-08T22:50:00.000-07:00

Amitabh Shankar
amitabh.shankar@mid-day.com
I am thankful to my stars! I would either have been lynched by a mob or landed in jail Sunday night. Besides, I would have had to live with the guilt and the ignominy of having killed a five-year-old who had done no harm to me, or to anybody, for that matter.
Piyush (5), who had gone to visit the ongoing Global Village fair on the banks of the Yamuna with his family Sunday night, came in front of my bike on the DND flyway. I applied sudden brakes and swerved the bike. I somehow managed to save the life of the kid.
Nobody was injured in the accident, but it highlighted the utter apathy of the administration to the violation of rules on the DND flyway, which provides an access road to the Global Village. More than 300 cars were parked on both sides of the DND flyway where parking is not allowed. All the cars parked belonged to the visitors to the Global Village fair and they were blithely crossing the flyway, where the speed limit for vehicles is 80 kmph. At this speed, it is impossible to apply brakes in time to prevent an accident.
The authorities had blissfully shut their eyes to the violation. The tow away vehicles of the DND authorities were doing the rounds, without bothering about the parked vehicles. I asked the security staff of the DND flyway if some relaxation of rules was made to allow parking on the flyway. The security guard, who apparently had orders from his superiors not to touch the vehicles parked there, said, “The parking lot in the village is full, so the parking is being allowed on the flyway.”
Joint Commissioner of Police (Traffic) Qamar Ahmed, on being approached on the issue, said: “Thank you for bringing the violation to our notice. We will immediately take some action.” Nobody knows what happened later.
The Global Village had come up at the place without clearance from the environment ministry (‘Yamuna bed under siege’ - MiD DAY March 20). As of now, it is a sure shot recipe for disaster.

Courtesy: Delhi MID DAY

Gonna rape this world

2007-03-14T02:47:00.000-07:00

Gonna suck the juices out of this world

Gonna treat her rough

It’s all she deserves

She’s so cold to me

Gonna rape this world

With my straight lines

Gonna straighten her out

Because nature is just history

Gonna test my bombs wherever I want

Gonna poon the whale

Gonna drain the swamp

It’s money to me

Gonna fuck with genes

I am what I am

Much more than a God

Much less than a man of industry

-By James ~ Greenpeace

Bhandaridah

2007-02-18T06:38:00.000-08:00

This is the place which shaped me. Here I was born, not only biologically, but in a broader sense. The values and ideals, for which I still live, have been inculcated in me by this hamlet. I really miss the scenic beauty of this place, with the Damodar flowing in one side, and hills on the other. Far away from the maddenning crowds of the city but affected by the dirty politics, run by small time goons, which is prevalent in every small place.
Well, I am now feeling nostalgic about the place and I don't want to stop writing. I miss, every thing about the place, my friends, my school, the beautiful small temple by the side of Damodar and sneaking out of house with friends to take bath in the polluted waters of Damodar and being scolded by my father if caught. Well, playing that gulli-danda and glass pebbles and running away at the first sight of any of our school teacher. This is the only place where i have been myself in true spirit. Where I have fallen in love, where I have cried without the fear of someone finding me crying.
This is the place from where I have received my best gifts and this is the place where I have lost my biggest treasures. This is the place which I call mine, though I I don't belong to this place...

An excerpt

2007-02-18T05:15:00.002-08:00

An excerpt from a book I recently read, liked and modified:

"Forget me," she says.
"How do I?" he wonders.
"Have friendship with some other girl," she advises.
"I am not in sinc with myself. How do I make friendshipo with someone else," he ponders.
"Even my friends have started complaining that I am not my natural self when I am talking to them. I look like I am lost somewhere even when I am in their company. How do I make a new friend in such condition."
A friend advises, "Erase all her memories, delete all her messages, all her e-mails. Everything that reminds you of her."
"Will that serve the purpose? How will I deface her from my memory? I have her in my nostrils. I had captured her fragrance at the very first meeting and every time I inhale since, the air in my lungs reminds me of her. Should I stop breathing?
"What do I do of the heart, the soul and the body that she has touched? No amount of scrubbing would erase the imprint she has left.
"What do I do of the warmth of her hugs that has heated me so much that I can withstand the most wintry weather without anything else to cover my body?
"What do I do of her taste that has molten on my tongue and still lingers? Everything that I eat becomes more tasty as it is mixed with that taste. Should I stop eating?
"And should I go killing all the cats that crisscross my path? An animal I hated, being superstitious. But I have grown a liking for it. The shrewdenss in the eyes of the cats when it looks at things reminds me of amazement with which she used to look at the feline. I never missed an opportunity to draw her attention towards a passing cat whenever we were together."
He says, "What do I do?"
"Time heals," she replies.
Does time remove the mark of the wound too," He wonders.

Love Exploits - I

2007-02-14T04:33:00.000-08:00

AMITABH SHANKAR

Read the other day: To love someone is madness, to be loved by someone is a gift, to love someone who loves you is your duty and to be loved by the person you love is life.
Well, I have been thinking over the meaning and importance of love in life since my adolescence. As an adolescent I used to think love is the essence of life. Love makes the world go round and I had it for a brief period then which came to an end unceremoniously after her father was transferred. Though we were in contact for some years on phone and through letters, she was married off at a time when I was not standing on my feet, I was still an unemployed man and her parents were in a hurry to marry her. The frailties of middle-class prevailed over me and I didn't have the courage to ask her to wait for some more time. This left me with a sense of guilt inside me and it deepened when some years after her marriage she called me and told me that though she couldn't have me in her life, she still loved me.
It took me about 10 years to get over my first attachment with a girl. Then entered the second girl. She is beautiful, intelligent and matured. Lives life on her own terms. Too independent and very practical.
The moment I saw her I knew, I loved her. This is the kind of girl I would like to live the rest of my life with.
After some initial turbulences, she came close to me. We became friends and on the first given opportunity, I told her my feelings about her. She didn't accept my proposal but we shared beautiful moments together, afterwards. We went on long journey inside ourselves together, sitting at secluded places in Delhi where the love birds perch. Tried to know each other and also learnt a lot about ourselves from each other.
The more I knew her, the more I was attracted towards her. The more I was attracted towards her, the more I loved her. Her strength of character and firmness of determination left me spellbound.
But the impact of our proximity had opposite impact on her. The more she knew me, the more she found me unattractive and lesser she loved me. She found me weak, too sentimental, clingy, possessive, even mentally sick and inhuman. Finally, she shunned me.
I am once again footloose. She has got a better companion. I still long for her. She repents for having been with me. I cherish the beautiful moments we shared together, she hates them. But can she wipe them out of her mind? Can she wish them away?
Anyway, this cannot be the end of my love story. The world is small and the roads are well known. I do believe that we will cross each other once again in the journey called life. Right now, I am wondering how will the story unfold then...

THE HORIZON...

2007-02-11T04:09:00.000-08:00

AMITABH SHANKAR

The Horizon. The meeting point of the earth and the sky. An illusion. A beautiful illusion.
The horizon has always fascinated me since my childhood days, and reaching there has been my secret fantasy. Standing on the bank of the river Damodar at Bhandaridah, I always used to look, across the river, at the eternity. Somewhere far away, it looked as if the earth and the sky met. Across the river, across the woods and across the hills, they meet and that I believed was the resting place of the sun when it sets. Even then the cynic within that innocent child used to wonder if they actually ever meet.
The fascination with that meaningless creation of the Almighty was repressed deep inside as I grew up and got involved with the more mundane things of life. Having come to Delhi, the metropolitan city, and having been lost in the labyrinthine of a dense concrete jungle, seldom did I find time to look at the sky above, leave alone looking at the horizon, which has been blurred by the skscrappers.
The fantasy had been relegated to oblivion in due days, but for a beautiful twist of fate. I was left alone at a rock on the Jawaharlal Nehru University campus. Alone, all alone I was, with my world by my side and the horizon, my secret fantasy, ahead. It didn't take me any effort or persuasion to plunge into that long journey, which I knew, might never end. The loneliness of the path and the challenges en route didn't deter me. I believed I will have my world for the company and the hardships of the road would be worth it.
I set on the journey then itself, lost in myself, hopeful of reaching my destiny and sure of the support of my world. Soon I realized that the paradox of this journey is that the more distance I cover outside, the deeper I travelled inside. Hardly had I covered some distance that I found that my world is nowhere in sight. My world probably could not muster the courage to come with me beyond some steps, foreseeing the hardships on the road and the worthlessness of the journey ahead.
I was left bewildered but I am still going ahead. Assuming that my world has either lost the way or just couldn't match the steps with me, I am moving on, with a firm faith in my heart that we will be united once again we reach the horizon. With each of us beautiful stories to tell each other about the experiences of our journey. And when on the way did we feel that the journey would have been more beautiful together.
But the cynic within is once again rearing its head. Reaching there is a chimera, the earth and the sky just don't meet. Or do they? Only nobody has been able to reach there.
Anyway, it's simply impossible to end the journey at this point. I am moving on...

An ode to love!

2007-02-06T08:07:00.000-08:00

AMITABH SHANKAR

Two journalists fell in love and got married. Though I knew both of them by their names earlier also, it only happened recently that I got to work with the woman and I meet the husband often as we cover the same beat, for different newspapers.
A friend of mine always used to wonder what did they see in each other that they got married. The friend has a strong belief that people marry in romanticism and once the romance is over, life becomes hell for those who go for love marriages.
The question always looked frivolous to me. What the hell do you see when you are in love? Don't you know that love is blind? And that's it's beauty. But I always looked the other side when this question was raised.
Now about eating habits of the couple, the woman is pure vegetarian, doesn't eat even onions and her husband has always been a non-vegetarian. Looks like the meeting of the north pole and the south pole.
Because of her taste and upbringing, the woman never cooked non-veg items. She couldn't even stand the smell. Because of his taste, husband didn't like the monotony of eating green vegetables daily and lost his appetite.
And then this happened one day. A guilt feeling dawned upon the woman that her husband was loosing health because of her callousness and thought to do something about it. She left office early one evening and headed directly to Karim's in Nizamuddin. Unfortunately, that day being a Monday, the famous non-veg eating joint in the capital was closed. She was disappointed because she knew that her husband was a great fan of the food from that place. But the heart, she didn't lose.
Called up a colleague to ask which other place should she visit to get good non-veg items. The colleague guided her to Kake-da-dhaba in Connaught Place. She took a bus and not knowing exact location of the dhaba, alighted at wrong bus stand and asked her way to the dhaba from the pedestrians. She had to walk for over a kilometer to reach there.
Then began the biggest ordeal of her life. The meat hanging from the ceiling, she couldn't look at, the smell she couldn't bear. She asked the person manning the counter for the menu and didn't know what to order.
She told the person to give her the best non-veg item there. That didn't solve her problem for the person told her that it's a matter of personal taste. Every item here is fabulous.
She somehow ordered for some sort of chicken. The waiter packed it in a polybag and gave it to her but how could she hold the polybag which was touched by his 'dirty' hand. She picked up another polybag and held it herself and asked the waiter to drop the food in it and fastened it tightly, as if the cock would jump back to life from the curry.
Then she called her husband and asked him not to eat outside. She has a surprise for him, she said.
She reached home at 10 pm, cooked rotis, curries for herself and her father-in-law.
But the worse was yet in store. How would she serve the chicken without heating it again? For heating it, she would have to touch it. There she lost her patience, asked her husband to go to kitchen and do the rest of the job himself. Till now the husband was oblivious of the surprise that was pending. When he went inside the
kitchen, he smelt fishy when he saw the polybag. He opened it and his nightmare came alive. There it was.
He threw the entire polybag in the waste-bin. Called her wife and asked her, "What made you think that I will eat non-veg item brought by you? You don't have to do all this." And all the four eyes were wet. They had their dinner of rotis and curry together.
A small gesture, a little sacrifice and lots of happiness.
Isn't that love? The meeting of the earth and the sky, the horizon...
And I am feeling jealous of them...

Creativity Censored!

2007-02-05T08:53:00.000-08:00

AMITABH SHANKAR

Why the great Indian painter MF Hussain has to live in exile? Why there is a furore when cartoons of Prophet Mohammad are published in a newspaper? Why are books banned and why fatwas are issued against writers like Salman Rushdie and Tasleema?
Simply because they were able to express their imagination in their works, which hurt the religious sentiments of few religious fanatics. For having painted gods and goddesses in nude. For having expressed the frailties of a closed society in words and showing it a mirror.
If you don't like your face, break the mirror. Is that the solution? No, nor is going under the knife the solution.
Nudity is beautiful and it is the most celebrated state of being, everybody would agree. Everybody is a voyeur in private. So why do people get furious when it blooms in expression as a piece of art. Haven't our Gods been depicted in nude earlier. Does MF Hussain's being an alien (Muslim) make him ineligible to paint Saraswati? Who knows the religion of those who built Khajuraho, which is celebrated by one and all.
Freedom of expression is guaranteed by the Constitution of India to its citizens except in some extra-ordinary conditions like putting at risk the security and safety of the nation and damaging the peaceful fabric of the country. And if the works of an artist are genuine but it infuriates the public and they go on a rampage, it is the state's responsibility to control them. And if they can't, it is their failure. Banning something is not the solution.
Why there must be a censor board to clip the wings of creative people? Why not our people should have the freedom of choice as well, to see what they like and avoid what they don't?
Not that I have always been a champion of freedom of expression but now I think that the creativity should be unbridled.
I always feel that Hindi literature, of which I am a great fan, has lost too much just because of the restrain of women authors. They don't come out as openly as their male counterparts do, there are social pressures upon them. They haven't been able to jot down their feelings in public for the fear of being stigmatized by their family and society. And those who have dared, like Ismat Chugtai, have done a great service to the literature and to their readers by offering them to in read something about the female mind first hand.
Can't more women shed their prudishness and write something honestly so that lesser mortals like me get to have a peep in their mind and heart, which I think is unfathomable.

Professional Hazard: Liking criminals!

2007-02-04T06:10:00.000-08:00

AMITABH SHANKAR

Call it professional hazard.
After having covered the crime beat for about two years, I have started sympathizing with the criminals.
Not that I condone their heinous crimes but I sympathize with them.
No, I don't want to become Mahatma but I am overwhelmed by his statement: Hate crime, not criminals.
Try to understand them. What made a criminal out of a man whose moral values are the same as are ours, who lived with us and among us? Did he fail the society or the society failed him? Isn't it the failure of the society that it wasn't able to make the conditions available to him in which he could have grown as a law-abiding citizen, like the rest of us?
Every criminal is a subject of research. His educational qualifications, the place where he was born or brought up and the kind of society he lived in, whether he was a habitual offender or has just fallen apart, are all matters of interest. What was the first crime he committed? Was he caught or not? What punishment was meted out to him when he was first caught? Was it proportional to the offence he had committed and what was done to rehabilitate him then itself?
And then I have a feeling deep inside that all of us are criminals. It is just that we haven't got caught till now and our offence is not big enough to make headlines.
And then there are crimes because there are laws. Once I was talking with the investigating officer of a case in which a man had attempted to commit suicide after stabbing the love of his life. The police officer said that the girl was living with the man for the past one year and had promised him that she would marry him but on the day of the incidence, she refused to marry him on the pretext that she couldn't marry against the wishes of her parents. The man tried to cajole her to marry him and also threatened her that he would commit suicide if she doesn't marry him. The woman didn't relent after which he stabbed her and attempted to commit suicide. Luckily, both of them survived and the man was booked for the offence.
The police officer said had it been the man who had done what the woman was doing, he could have been booked for rape. Wasn't the man raped depending on the same logic? Why do we have different laws for different genders? Emotional abuse is no less serious than the physical abuse. Period.

The travails of a journey called Life

2007-02-04T01:06:00.000-08:00

AMITABH SHANKAR

Life is a journey and people meet on the way. The destination people don't know and though so many people have traversed its path, not many have learnt its import. I don't mean that I have learnt it, I just want to learn it and I am wondering if someone can guide me.
I cannot believe that life is meaningless.
How and why do things happen in one's life, which are unexplainable and not understandable, is still a subject of speculation and conjecture. Some people believe that there is a super power which controls our lives invisibly and we are just like puppets. That's why we need to assert ourselves and take the reign of our lives in our own hands. We need to become the maker of our own destiny.
For doing that we need to know so many things but the biggest knowledge is self-knowledge. Knowing yourself, and it is easier said that done.
I do believe that people are microcosms of the universe. They are the reflection of the universe and there is no process in the universe which is not taking place inside the body, the mind and the soul. And by knowing these three components of your existence, in isolation with each other as well as in unison, you come to know of the universe. If you control yourself, you can control the entire universe. By knowing yourself, you become one with the Almighty. Rather, you become the Almighty.
Why do we do the things we do? Are we solely responsible for our acts or even at that stage, there is another force which compels us to act the way we do? Then why do we have to bear the fruits of our actions? These are the questions which have been puzzling me for some time. I have sought the answers, sifted through my mind and thought process, and have not been able to reach any conclusion.
In Srimad Bhagwadgita, Lord Krishna tells Arjun, "Everything that is happening is pre-destined and don't have the arrogance that you are the doer. You are just enacting the role given to you." But then if everything was pre-destined, if everything had top happen, why was Arjun disenchanted at the first place? Was that too pre-destined so that Lord Krishna may show his erudite by delivering the gospel of Gita which is also called the nectar of all the Vedas.
Often do I think that these are just hollow words with no meaning, just to justify the inaction of a nation of lazy people doing nothing. But then often do I have a feeling that I don't have control over my actions, my feelings and my destiny.
I don't decide who gives me company on my path to the journey called life. They come on their own, I know they too don't decide for themselves, and leave on their own.
Some of the co-travellers give you pain when they are with you, some of them give you pain when they leave you. Or do they just give lessons?

Continued

I, Me, Myself

2007-01-31T03:54:00.000-08:00

By AMITABH SHANKAR

Great people are born ahead of their time, I was born when my time was past.
I was modelled to live in older times, when the ethics were different and virtues were appreciated. When being gentle was not considered a vice. But it was not to be. I, therefore, consider myself older than I am, and it reflects even in my looks.
The consequence is that my dearest one calls me too sentimental, clingy and what not. She called me even mentally sick and went on to say that I don't love myself. "I don't love myself" - Can there be a bigger slur?
A man not capable of loving hismself cannot love anybody else, it is a statement of fact. The person who said this is one with whom I have passed the most beautiful moments of my life, whom I have loved more than my life. For I believe not in the eternity of life but in the eternity of moment. One moment lived well is worth more than 100 years of life just lived.
Whenever she was in trouble, she found me waiting. Even then she knew that I was not there for her but was there because I couldn't help myself being there. I was helpless when it came to her.
I wanted to be with her, in her company, making things easier for her all the time. Above all, I wanted her to be mine, I don't know what she thought but I had never made any bones about my intentions. One may say that my love was selfish, it wasn't true love but then my love was self-love. I needed her because I loved her. And then she said I didn't love myself.
Not that I want the old world order to return, so that I become younger. I just want to grow up. Shed the middle-class family values which taught me to consider people as emotional beings. They are not, not at least in the capital.

JNU Students thrashed by Panipat police

2006-10-29T07:16:00.000-08:00

By AMITABH SHANKAR
New Delhi, Oct. 26: Three students claimed that they had a narrow escape from being killed in a fake encounter in Panipat in Haryana.
Three students, including two of Jawaharlal Nehru University, and one photographer were allegedly thrashed in Panipat by garment factory owner and their belongings, including mobile phones and video camera, were snatched while they were shooting outside a factory for a documentary on the working conditions in garment factory in HUDA industrial area on Tuesday.
The students also alleged that the station house of the local police station was also involved in the conspiracy with the local goons and a son of the garment factory owner.
Venkat, a Ph.D. student of Centre for Law and Governance at JNU, told The Asian Age that he along with Veermani, another JNU student, and Palani Chamy of Pondichery University had gone to Panipat to shoot a documentary with a photographer named Madhavan.
After they had shot some scenes of streets and the area, they entered into the premises of a factory called G.S. Exports and interviewed some of the workers for about 10-15 minutes and video-recorded their soundbites. When they came out of the factory, they found that their car was missing from where they had parked. "Some people who claimed to be CBI officers approached us and accused us of being involved in a robbery-cum-murder case and asked us to accompany them to the local police station," alleged Venkat. They then forcibly took us inside the factory and hurled abuses on us and thrashed us, added Venkat. "We were also stripped naked. Meanwhile, they gave a call to the police. Two police officers in civil dress came, one of whom was the SHO of HUDA police station," alleged Venkat.
Venkat also alleged that the factory owners suggested to the SHO that he take them to the Uttar Pradesh border and kill them in an encounter and throw them in the Yamuna river so that no one will come to know of them. The SHO then took them to the police station and again thrashed them there. They were made to sign on papers on which concocted accusations were written against them.
However, the DSP of the area came to their rescue, who was convinced that they were JNU students. He asked them some questions and assured them of strict action against the guilty. However, he too asked them to reach a compromise and made the four sign some papers.

COURTESY: ASIAN AGE

Police gets insight into LeT’s PoK terror camps

2006-08-16T09:15:00.000-07:00

By Amitabh Shankar
New Delhi, Aug. 15: The interrogation of the two Lashkar-e-Tayyaba terrorists arrested on August 10 from the New Delhi Railway Station has given the Delhi police an insight into the training camps being run by the LeT and ISI in Pakistan-occupied Kashmir.
Abu Anas, one of the alleged terrorists, told the police that the focus of the LeT is to indoctrinate young people into terrorism in Pakistan. To carry out their mission, the LeT operatives make frequent trips to madrasas and schools and vilify young minds by telling them concocted stories of atrocities against Muslims in Kashmir and other parts of the world. They spot teenagers and bring them into their fold by giving them training into terrorism in one of the many camps being run by them in PoK, said joint commissioner of police (special cell) Karnal Singh.
"First, the young people are trained in training camps called Daura-e-aam at which they are offered basic training. They are trained to handle various types of weapons. This training programme lasts for 21 days. Not much firing practice is given in this camp. At a Daura-e-aam training camp, a batch generally consists of 300-400 people," said Mr Singh.
After the initial training is complete, the trainees are left to operate under the local commanders of the LeT and their performance is reviewed on a regular basis. Those who are found motivated enough qualify for the second round of training which is more rigorous. This training is given in a Daura-e-khas training camps again operating on the PoK land, Mr Singh added. "The strength of the batch is around 50 and the training lasts for three months. The terrorists are trained on how to operate sophisticated weapons. The terrorists are also trained on how to make explosive substances and operate them. It is here that those with maximum motivation are spotted and provided training to become human bombs," Mr Singh said.
After the training, those indoctrinated are sent on missions to India and are given contacts from where they can get explosives and guidelines for their action. Mr Singh said though Anas had received training at an LeT camp, some Bangladeshi terrorists who were arrested earlier had been trained in ISI training camps.

Courtesy: Asian Age

ISI-LeT direct link found

2006-08-14T08:49:00.000-07:00

By Amitabh Shankar
New Delhi, Aug. 14: The interrogation of two Laskhar- e-Toiba terrorists arrested last week by the special cell of the Delhi Police has confirmed once again that Pakistani intelligence agency ISI and army have direct links with the terror outfit, strengthening India's case that Islamabad was actively supporting terrorist activities in the country.
One of the arrested militants Abu Anas has revealed that he was the body guard of Lashkar second-in-command Zaki-ur-Rehman and given detailed description about functioning of the terror outfit and the monthly meetings that take place between Pakistan Army officials and LeT leaders.
"Zakir-ur-Rehman and some others of LeT used to meet Pakistani Army's Major Wajahat, Brigadier Riaz and Brigadier Haji every month in Muzaffarabad, the capital of Pakistan-occupied-Kashmir," Joint
Commissioner of police (Special Cell), Mr Karnal Singh said.
"We have got details about ISI and Pakistan Army's connection with Laskhar-e-Taiba. It is not that LeT's working independently. The monthly meeting discussed terror activities in India and this brings out the linkages among terror groups, Pakistan Army and the ISI," he added.
He has also given details about the command structure of the outfit and names of operatives in charge of various departments. Anas used to take Zaki-ur-Rehman, whom he described as a person in his mid-40s in charge of terrorist operations in India, for meetings with ISI officers in a green Land Cruiser (IDL-5392) in Islamabad and Muzaffarabad, Singh said.
He has told police that one Hafiz Sayeed, a resident of Johar Town in Lahore, was the chief of LeT, while Hazi Ashraf from Faislabad and Yousuf Taabi was in charge of finance and functioning of madrassas.
Abdul Rehman Maki, a resident of Jamia Mahadul Ali, Murdika Lahore, looks after collection of funds from various countries, while the head of operations in Jammu and Kashmir was Abu-al-Kama, a resident of Mandi Bahuddin district in Pakistan.
The command for operations outside Jammu and Kashmir was given to Azam Cheema alias Baba and Muzammil. According to police, they have recovered his Pakistani passport, identity card and some other articles of Anas from the bag he had hidden in a cloak room in Lucknow railway station.
During interrogation, he told police that he was from Faislabad district of Pakistani Punjab and had joined the terror outfit in 2001 after dropping studies. His elder brother is an officer in Pakistan Air Force.
He received training in handling of arms and ammunition, at training camps in Ummal Kura and Sirikot Muzaffarabad alongwith a large number of Pakistanis and Afghan nationals.
They were taught how to handle rocket launchers, grenades, AK 47s, LMGs, mortars and trained in carrying out attacks against security forces, Singh added.

ends

Courtesy: Asian Age

The Bush Vigil

2006-07-12T13:31:00.000-07:00

The president of the United States, George W Bush visited the Capital and Hyderabad between 1 March and 3 March with huge paraphernalia of security arrangements. He also made an impromptu halt at Afghanistan, a stay which was not planned and even if it was planned, it was not disclosed to anyone and this is the kind of secrecy that prevails upon the itinerary of the President, more so when he visits a hostile country or where the security threat is very high.
During his stay in the Capital, the Delhi Police was responsible for ensuring the security of the President. But they manned only the outermost ring of the multi-layered security arrangement around the President. The officers of the Delhi Police knew that the security around the President would be unprecedented and the security arrangements of the President was supervised by the officers in the top echelons of the Delhi Police, including the commissioner of the Delhi Police, Dr KK Paul, and officers of the rank of joint commissioner of police personally manning the control room from where the security of the president was being monitored. There are many lessons that Delhi Police can learn from the American security forces, in which they ensure security of the president and yet remain prepared for the worst kind of tragedy, a senior police officer confided.
Bush's movements during foreign trips are choreographed down to the minutest detail by the US Secret Service and other agencies. From the moment a trip is discussed in the White House, secret service agents begin looking at the various security scenarios. Plans are worked and re-worked, taking in changing intelligence information.
Advance teams of agents are then dispatched to the various destinations on the president's itinerary. According to sources, before the president’s visit to the country, more than 45 CIA agents were staying in American Embassy. Before the President actually arrived in the Capital, this number had shot up to 700, most of them being flown in from Singapore.
Along with them came a fleet of eight cars, including three limousines, a military ambulance and a communications van packed with state-of-the art devices. And not to forget the sniffer dogs who were always mired in controversy during their stay in the Capital. They were seventeen in numbers and had arrived the Capital about a week before the President. These dogs are no ordinary dogs, and if anybody called them animals, US officers took umbrage of it. The hotel authorities had initially refused to allow the canines in the hotels claiming they had no provision for animals, but they had to give in after the Indian security agencies too lobbied for the canines. The hotel staff were strictly instructed not to call the dogs animals and call them by their rank, as they too were officers of the security agency. Sergeant Harry and Sergeant Sally were most famous among them, and needless to say, the canines stayed in the five star hotels and enjoyed the luxury.
When the president finally turned up, he did it in style by the most famous and most secure, the Air Force One, a Boeing. However, Air Force One is not the name of the aircraft carrying the President but is the call sign of the US President He arrived with a small air force and a massive entourage, consisting of US officials and US security service agents and journalists. The sources in the airport said that the US secret service agents had requested to get command over the airport when the President’s entourage landed in the Capital but the aviation authorities refused the access.
The President stayed in the ITC Maurya Sheraton Hotel, because of its strategic location, being equidistant from both the airport and the Parliament. The entire hotel was booked and general public was not allowed in the hotel anywhere except on the ground floor of the hotel. In which suite, the president was staying was known to none, except the core group of US Security agents.
Not only this, even the White House cooks had come along with government political aides. “The US President had come to India with the entire White House from the cars he drives, the water he drinks, the gasoline he uses, the food he eats," quipped a senior police officer of the Delhi Police.
The Cadillac De Ville limousines in which Bush moved in the Capital was a four-ton-beast. The car was plated with a five-inch-thick armour beneath its black paint and the glasses of the car were also five-inch thick armour. The car could accommodate six persons and was equipped with the technology and gadgets which could make Bush feel at office, from where he could negotiate all his office work.
When the Bush’s cavalcade crisscrossed the roads of the Capital, the traffic on the both sides of his routes were restricted, and it was unprecedented in the sense that even on the Prime Minister’s route, the traffic is restricted on only one side of the roads to be taken. At any time, there were at least 20 cars in the cavalcade of the President and at times, it went up to as much as 50. At least 12 cars were in the core group, three being the limousines, one military ambulance and one war wagon and some decoy cars. It was known to none that in which car the President is travelling. All the cars in the cavalcade were magnificent but what attracted the attention most of the security personnel in the Delhi was the war wagon following the president’s cavalcade wherever it went. The sources said that the wagon was fitted with ultra-modern gadgets which could detect if any bomb or landmine was planted within its range. The wagon was also fitted with dish antennas which received and transmitted signals to the satellite in the skies which kept track of the Bush’s movements and his cavalcade throughout his entire journey in the country.
Bush also addressed a public gathering at Purana Quilla, and public appearance of the President makes the US Secret Agents scary, more so after a hand grenade was found within 50 metres of the venue of a public gathering President was to address in Georgia. The security there was unparalleled during the visit of any foreign dignitary in the country, as the public appearance of the President is considered the weakest link in his security. "If the secret service had their way, they would put him in a cement thing and no one would get to see or hear him," another senior police officer said.
And a change was made in the itinerary of the Bush again to take the security agencies by surprise. The national security advisor of the US President, Mr Stephen Hadley declared at the last moment that the President would be leaving for Pakistan in the night of 3 March, instead of 4 March. According to original plans, the President was to stay in India on the night of 3 March.
Even after the entourage of the President left for Pakistan at about 8 p.m. on the night of 3 March, the suites and the hotel in which the president was staying was not vacated by the secret service agents till the next day, to ensure that the President reached his destination safely and everything was in place there. The arrangement was made to ensure that if any emergency arises in the way or at the next destination, the President has at least one place nearby where he could easily be shifted and he finds everything ready.
The secrecy shrouding the security of the President was exemplary and even the officers of the Delhi Police could not cross the outermost ring of the multi layer security of the President. “The Delhi Police can learn many lessons from the Bush visit on keeping vigil and keeping prepared all the time to meet any sort of emergencies,” the police officer admitted.

ends

matribhoomi: January 2006

2006-07-12T13:29:00.000-07:00

matribhoomi: January 2006The Bush Vigil
The president of the United States, George W Bush visited the Capital and Hyderabad between 1 March and 3 March with huge paraphernalia of security arrangements. He also made an impromptu halt at Afghanistan, a stay which was not planned and even if it was planned, it was not disclosed to anyone and this is the kind of secrecy that prevails upon the itinerary of the President, more so when he visits a hostile country or where the security threat is very high.
During his stay in the Capital, the Delhi Police was responsible for ensuring the security of the President. But they manned only the outermost ring of the multi-layered security arrangement around the President. The officers of the Delhi Police knew that the security around the President would be unprecedented and the security arrangements of the President was supervised by the officers in the top echelons of the Delhi Police, including the commissioner of the Delhi Police, Dr KK Paul, and officers of the rank of joint commissioner of police personally manning the control room from where the security of the president was being monitored. There are many lessons that Delhi Police can learn from the American security forces, in which they ensure security of the president and yet remain prepared for the worst kind of tragedy, a senior police officer confided.
Bush's movements during foreign trips are choreographed down to the minutest detail by the US Secret Service and other agencies. From the moment a trip is discussed in the White House, secret service agents begin looking at the various security scenarios. Plans are worked and re-worked, taking in changing intelligence information.
Advance teams of agents are then dispatched to the various destinations on the president's itinerary. According to sources, before the president’s visit to the country, more than 45 CIA agents were staying in American Embassy. Before the President actually arrived in the Capital, this number had shot up to 700, most of them being flown in from Singapore.
Along with them came a fleet of eight cars, including three limousines, a military ambulance and a communications van packed with state-of-the art devices. And not to forget the sniffer dogs who were always mired in controversy during their stay in the Capital. They were seventeen in numbers and had arrived the Capital about a week before the President. These dogs are no ordinary dogs, and if anybody called them animals, US officers took umbrage of it. The hotel authorities had initially refused to allow the canines in the hotels claiming they had no provision for animals, but they had to give in after the Indian security agencies too lobbied for the canines. The hotel staff were strictly instructed not to call the dogs animals and call them by their rank, as they too were officers of the security agency. Sergeant Harry and Sergeant Sally were most famous among them, and needless to say, the canines stayed in the five star hotels and enjoyed the luxury.
When the president finally turned up, he did it in style by the most famous and most secure, the Air Force One, a Boeing. However, Air Force One is not the name of the aircraft carrying the President but is the call sign of the US President He arrived with a small air force and a massive entourage, consisting of US officials and US security service agents and journalists. The sources in the airport said that the US secret service agents had requested to get command over the airport when the President’s entourage landed in the Capital but the aviation authorities refused the access.
The President stayed in the ITC Maurya Sheraton Hotel, because of its strategic location, being equidistant from both the airport and the Parliament. The entire hotel was booked and general public was not allowed in the hotel anywhere except on the ground floor of the hotel. In which suite, the president was staying was known to none, except the core group of US Security agents.
Not only this, even the White House cooks had come along with government political aides. “The US President had come to India with the entire White House from the cars he drives, the water he drinks, the gasoline he uses, the food he eats," quipped a senior police officer of the Delhi Police.
The Cadillac De Ville limousines in which Bush moved in the Capital was a four-ton-beast. The car was plated with a five-inch-thick armour beneath its black paint and the glasses of the car were also five-inch thick armour. The car could accommodate six persons and was equipped with the technology and gadgets which could make Bush feel at office, from where he could negotiate all his office work.
When the Bush’s cavalcade crisscrossed the roads of the Capital, the traffic on the both sides of his routes were restricted, and it was unprecedented in the sense that even on the Prime Minister’s route, the traffic is restricted on only one side of the roads to be taken. At any time, there were at least 20 cars in the cavalcade of the President and at times, it went up to as much as 50. At least 12 cars were in the core group, three being the limousines, one military ambulance and one war wagon and some decoy cars. It was known to none that in which car the President is travelling. All the cars in the cavalcade were magnificent but what attracted the attention most of the security personnel in the Delhi was the war wagon following the president’s cavalcade wherever it went. The sources said that the wagon was fitted with ultra-modern gadgets which could detect if any bomb or landmine was planted within its range. The wagon was also fitted with dish antennas which received and transmitted signals to the satellite in the skies which kept track of the Bush’s movements and his cavalcade throughout his entire journey in the country.
Bush also addressed a public gathering at Purana Quilla, and public appearance of the President makes the US Secret Agents scary, more so after a hand grenade was found within 50 metres of the venue of a public gathering President was to address in Georgia. The security there was unparalleled during the visit of any foreign dignitary in the country, as the public appearance of the President is considered the weakest link in his security. "If the secret service had their way, they would put him in a cement thing and no one would get to see or hear him," another senior police officer said.
And a change was made in the itinerary of the Bush again to take the security agencies by surprise. The national security advisor of the US President, Mr Stephen Hadley declared at the last moment that the President would be leaving for Pakistan in the night of 3 March, instead of 4 March. According to original plans, the President was to stay in India on the night of 3 March.
Even after the entourage of the President left for Pakistan at about 8 p.m. on the night of 3 March, the suites and the hotel in which the president was staying was not vacated by the secret service agents till the next day, to ensure that the President reached his destination safely and everything was in place there. The arrangement was made to ensure that if any emergency arises in the way or at the next destination, the President has at least one place nearby where he could easily be shifted and he finds everything ready.
The secrecy shrouding the security of the President was exemplary and even the officers of the Delhi Police could not cross the outermost ring of the multi layer security of the President. “The Delhi Police can learn many lessons from the Bush visit on keeping vigil and keeping prepared all the time to meet any sort of emergencies,” the police officer admitted.

ends

Agricultural inputs to fast track growth of Jharkhand

2006-01-07T08:47:00.000-08:00

Agricultural inputs to fast-track growth of Jharkhand

“Rising sun of Indian horizon, land of hope and prosperity” is how the official web site of Jharkhand government describes the state.
Carved out of Bihar on November 15, 2000 with a geographical area of 79.7 lakh hectares, the state has completed four years of its existence, yet the state has failed to meet the aspirations of its people, which consist predominantly of tribals, in the name of welfare of whom, the state was created.
Endowed with vast natural resources like coal, mica, iron ores and other minerals, Jharkhand exemplifies the paradox of being a rich state with poor people. Though the government presents surplus budgets, the only such state in the country, 62 per cent of its people live below poverty line. The state boasts of vast reserves of coal and uranium and many thermal and hydel power projects, yet 55 per cent of its villages have no access to electricity. The state takes pride in large number of students it sends to various medical and engineering colleges all over India, yet the average literacy rate at 52.7 per cent is much below the national average of 65 per cent. The people of Jharkhand are living how secluded a life from the rest of the world can be gauged from the fact that only 42 per cent of the villages are connected by roads.
Jharkhand, as a part of Bihar, had been the industrial face of the state. Despite the fact that 80 per cent of its population living in 32,620 villages are dependant on agriculture and allied activities for its living hood, this is one area which had been largely neglected over the years. Out of a total geographical area of 79.7 lakh hectares, the cultivable land is 38 lakh hectares and the net sown area is just 18.04 lakh hectares. There’s a vast scope of bringing new and virgin land under agriculture. This would generate gainful employment for opportunities for thousands of tribals living in the state. The agricultural practices adopted here are primitive. Farmers, mostly, depend on rain god for irrigation. If monsoon fails, the crop fails. Farmers have little access to high yielding varieties of seeds and the use of fertilizers and pesticides is too low to yield a good crop. Agricultural tools and implements are age-old. Oxen and buffaloes are still used to plough the fields. Though the agriculture in Jharkhand is mainly for subsistence and is labour intensive, yet the perennial problem of Indian farming, the scarcity of markets haunts the farmers of the state. The main crops of Jharkhand are paddy and wheat. The diversification of crops can give a desirable fillip to the economic conditions of the state.
As has been mentioned earlier, the net sown area in Jharkhand is just 18.04 lakh hectares. Out of this, only 1.57 lakh hectares is irrigated which is mere eight per cent of net sown area, despite the fact that many major, medium and minor rivers like Damodar, Suvarnarekha, Garga, Bhedia and others criss-cross the state. Other than monsoon, farmers of Jharkhand depend mainly on wells for irrigation. Vast ground water reserve offers the state a unique opportunity of this water by constructing 8-10 lakh additional wells. Water from personal tube wells, canals, lift irrigation and pond is used for irrigation. If all the sources of irrigation are harnessed efficiently, the state has the potential to emerge as a food basket for the nation.
Institutionalized finance and credit elude the farmers due to poor means of communication, leaving farmers upon the mercy of local landlords and money-lenders who emaciate them further. Self-help groups and co-operatives of farmers should be formed to get them out of the clutches of the money-lenders.
In addition to agriculture, tribal people of the state depend on cattle rearing. Cows and buffaloes are reared to meet the milk requirements of the state. Tribals generally rear goats, pigs and hens which are not only the source of nutritious food but also give them good income. If cattle rearing centres and breeding centres are established at district and block levels and managed efficiently, the state has the potential not only to meet local requirements but can exploit export opportunities too. There is a feed plant in Ranchi which has been in news for all the wrong reasons, for its involvement in fodder scam.
Moreover, 29 per cent of the total land area of the states is covered by forests. Forest products constitute a large part of income of the tribals. Forests in Jharkhand are bestowed with good quality timber which can be used for making furniture. Medicinal and aromatic plants are also in abundance. Scientific exploitation of forest products would give the economy of Jharkhand a major boost without playing havoc with the ecological balance. The cultivation of Tendu leaves, of which bidi is made alone has the potential to generate direct and indirect employment opportunities for several households. Tribal people have drawn their living from forests for ages and they share an emotional association with the forest. If they are trained to exploit forest resources in a sustainable manner while guarding forest from illegal intruders, it can work wonders.
People of Jharkhand have harvested rainwater for ages by building ponds which are used for various domestic purposes. These ponds make the scene conducive fro pisciculture. There are vast possibilities for growing fruits and vegetables in the state. All these potentials make the state a lucrative destination for food processing industries. Thus the potential in the state can be realized to make it a self-sufficient and economically state. Agricultural inputs are required to put the state on fast-track growth rate. How long will it take the state politicians, distant from the ground reality, to shed the industry-centric growth spectacles and make people centric development their prime focus remains to be seen.

Ends
Amitabh Shankar
Mobile no -9868563226
amitabh_shankar2003@yahoo.co.in

Ajit Bhawan
House no 352 D/2
Munirka
New Delhi--- 110067

NREG Act: An opportunity being wasted

2006-01-07T08:31:00.000-08:00

NREG Act- An opportunity being wasted

Political freedom has no meaning without economic freedom.
It took our legislators almost 55 years after the framing of the Constitution to awake to the idea of ensuring employment to (We), the people of India.
On December 21 2004, National Rural Employment Guarantee Bill was proposed in the Parliament for approval as a part of the Common Minimum Programme of the UPA government in the Centre The bill proposes to guarantee at least 100 days of employment every year for at least one adult member of every rural household, for doing casual manual labour at the statutory minimum wages.
According to Census estimates, around 35 per cent of the Indian population is living below poverty line and majority of them are living in villages. The primary reason behind this condition is unemployment in rural areas. The scourge of unemployment is compounded by lack of social security mechanisms. The Act envisages to provide a legal guarantee for at least 100 days of employment every year to at least one able-bodied person in every rural household on asset creating public works programmes. The Act will empower poor in the villages to demand work on the strength of legal entitlement.
For the purpose of giving effect to the employment guarantee, the Act states that within six months of enactment of this Act, each state government shall prepare Employment Guarantee Programme for providing employment to all adults residing in rural areas and the summary of the rules of the programme be publicized through regional and local newspapers and other means. The Act also states that only productive works shall be taken up under the programme in rural areas only. The Act thus provides not only guaranteed employment to adults but also aims to strengthen the rural infrastructure which can bring all round development to rural areas.
One of the salient features of this Act is that it provides job on demand and if the person seeking employment is not given work within 15 days of the day from which the work is sought, he is entitled to the payment of unemployment allowance. The payment of wages has to be made on a weekly basis and if it is delayed by more than seven days after the week in which the work was done, the person is entitled to compensation.
Provision has been made to provide medical treatment free of cost to any person who meets an accident and an ex-gratia payment has to be made in case of death in course of the work, employed under the programme. A proportion of wages not exceeding 5 per cent can be deducted as contribution to welfare schemes organized for the welfare schemes organized for the benefit of labourers under the programme. This in a way also provides social security to labourers.
It has been estimated that the Act would benefit at least 400 crore rural household and the expense incurred on the count would be around Rs 40,000 crores. Skepticism has been expressed that from where the huge resources required will generated. The fund required to enact this Act is a meager one per cent of the GDP and it can easily be generated and allocated if the wasteful and ‘unproductive’ expenses of the government are cut and diverted to the Central and State Rural Employment Guarantee Fund created for the purpose. At least, this much is the social responsibility of a government elected on the plank of upliftment of common man.
The benefits of this Act are immense. The Act will help to curtail migration from villages to urban areas, thus reducing the number of slums and JJ clusters and infrastructural burden on the cities.
The works to be undertaken under this programme would vary from region to region. Potential for huge employment exists in the field of environmental protection, watershed programes, rainwater harvesting, land regeneration, prevention of soil erosion, restoration of tanks, protection of forests, wasteland development, and related activities. These works would provide the rural people employment in agricultural lean seasons as well as ensure good harvest in crop seasons.
With starvation deaths and suicide of farmers being reported recently from different parts of the country, it was high time such an Act was introduced but it seems that an opportunity has once again been wasted due to lack of political will power.
The bill is only a diluted version of the draft prepared by National Advisory Council, constituted by the UPA government itself. Had the original draft been proposed, it could have gone a long way in emancipating the poor and vulnerable sections of the rural society.
The biggest flaw of this Act is that it states that: “[The Act] shall come into force immediately in such areas and for such period as may be notified and shall be extended to cover all the rural areas of India after evaluating the implementation in the districts chosen.”
This provision would limit the guarantee to few districts chosen. The Act would benefit some people in some areas whereas deny same benefit to people living in similar conditions in different areas. Further, this would allow the government to postpone the further extension of the guarantee to other areas indefinitely. Even worse, it is being feared that the government may allow to fail this Act in the districts chosen, and treat such failure as a reason to avoid the financial burden involved in further extension.
The second serious flaw is that the Act allows the government to fix wages for employment under the guarantee scheme as low as it wishes, disregarding existing legislation. It’s ironic that the unemployment allowance to be paid to a person in case of not being provided employment can be as low as one-third of the minimum wage. It should be at least half of the wages.
Instead of every willing person, only one person per household has been promised employment in the bill. This would discriminate against women as only the male members of the family would get to work. Employment of women goes a long way in their empowerment and strengthens their position in taking decisions regarding the size of family and education of children etc. The present draft, if implemented, would deprive the youth and women of whatever work they are now getting under food-for-work-programmes. What is needed is a universal employment guarantee and not just for one-in-a-family.
There is no special component for women in the draft Act, like lesser numbers of working hours per day in view of their household responsibilities like cooking and rearing children etc., and selection of projects to be taken up like drinking water schemes, rural lavatories, etc. which are of special significance to women.
The right to work is very much a fundamental democratic demand. In fact, it is being implemented in almost all developing countries. The Indian Constitution refers to the right to work under the Directive Principles of the State Policy.
In its present form, the draft looks like a bundle of half-baked thoughts and ideas. Compounded with lack of political will, this programme risks being yet another failed rural employment guarantee scheme.
The government must return to a strong draft Act which does away with the flaws of present draft and incorporates recommendations made by National Advisory Council and with provisions to extend employment guarantee from 100 days per household to 100 days per person per financial year at some later date.
The draft Act in its present form, can at best, be described as a reluctant small step in right direction and certainly it would not go a long way in benefiting rural families, as Mr Raghuvansh Prasad Singh boasted in Parliament while presenting the budget.