Horse sense

The only horse I was close to before joining NDA was chirutha which drew Chinnan’s carriage. When we visited our grandfather during summer holidays in the late 1950s, we were always received at the railway station in the wee hours of the morning by Chinnan with his carriage and Appukuttan with his cart drawn by a single bullock. While the former was for us to travel, the latter was for carrying our luggage. Chirutha was a perky skinny creature well looked after by Chinnan who would order us to alight and cross the river at the ford on foot to relieve the stress on the filly.

It was in NDA I saw a real good horse as seen in the movies. There we were seated in a semi circle in front of a huge horse tended by a burly ustad who was explaining the anatomy of a horse. Starting at the tip of the nose he traced the pointer along the complete length of the horse until the tip of the tail and beamed “cadets, isko pure ko kahatehain goda”. He then went on explain all body parts et al. I was impressed as this creature which was many times more magnificent than Chirutha – “Iska nam hain Ravan aur isse aap aur milenge” he concluded. How ominous was that ‘warning’, we realised only once we were well into our equitation training. Ravan was reserved for late arrivals and the errant pupils. This I suspect Ravan knew through his horse sense.

He would never hold on to a rider. After a couple of attempts this cadet (let us call him SS; he left the NDA in a later term) who was perpetually late with a punctured bike, could be seen holding the reins and going in circles along with Ravan. This became a constant sight in our first term equitation classes. SS parted ways with the course after the first term. Then he was probably never late for the classes. Ravan passed away in action during the following year…did he miss SS? One will never know. I too fail to recall vividly the last days of Ravan.

Though I did not excel in equestrian sports, I learnt a lot about horse sense in NDA.

What is in a name? II

“What is in a name?” the original bard asked. A rose is a rose call it by any name he opined. Who was I to oppose him? I just believed him as I believed that Caesar’s wife was the most beautiful woman to be born after eve and ghosts were for real.  The trouble with a name like Kalpathy Lakshmanan Viswanathan actually started with my ambition to join NDA. Let me explain. Some of us South Indians have half our address in our name. Kalpathy was the name of my village followed by my father’s name and finally my name. The UPSC form asked to fill in my first name, middle name and last name (or surname or whatever). Adding to the predicament was there was not enough space to write in my name in full capital letters while I did my best to fill it all in the space provided. If I went V,L,K as asked. it is more than likely I will be known as ‘Kalpathy’ and thereby lose my identity. If I went V, KL well a better option. But again I would lose my own name V. After all I had to fill in the form so I risked it all and went V, L, K. Then somewhere along the way I was asked “Name to be printed” or given some such option and I promptly wrote KL Viswanathan. Much better than a Sashimohan TV, I know. I have somehow managed to retain my identity and name since then. That I consider as an achievement below par (as in golf and not in real life). 

The next test was when I joined NDA. Firstly a lot of my course mates were annoyed at my name, what with having to spell it at the drop of a hat. I was down in the dumps to have annoyed those who would be my friends until they and I met CVSS Ratnakumar. My name was a lot easier. But yet I was called by many names, though nobody called me names. It was the effervescent Kuru Hasang (May he rest in peace) a dear friend, who christened me Kelly. He of course could not pronounce any portion of my name legibly. ‘KL’  was tried and discarded for its rigidity. ‘Vish’ sounded too subtle and hopeful (we were not in those days supposed to exhibit ‘hope’ publicly) as first month first termers. It was then probably we watched Clint Eastwood in Kelly’s heroes. Whatever, Kuru Hasang called me ‘Kelly’. The name stuck in the Academies in such a manner that many CMs even now possibly do not know my real name. This was true in service too where ‘Vish’ (we could be more hopeful after commission) overtook ‘Kelly’…but that did not change matters as I suspect a majority of my acquaintances still do not know my real name.

What the heck. The bard was right after all. What is in a name?

Going viral or spiral

“Anna is going viral” my teen neighbour and a neo social activist announced to no one in particular in the lift as I struggled to check mail on my smart phone. It was only after the lift had moved up a couple of floors I realised we were the only two in the lift. As a courtesy I enquired of the college going teen as to who was running a fever. That is when she explained to me about Anna Hazare being on ‘Facebook’ spreading his message on the net. Though a bit late I realised what she meant and smiled knowingly as we reached our floor – “Good joke, uncle” she said and got out of the lift. I sensed a delicate situation was automatically retrieved – because I had not joked!!!!!

But at the first opportunity after I followed my mod teen out of the lift, I accosted uncle Google and other sources and learned that Viral may refer to any object or pattern that is able to induce some agents to replicate it, resulting in many copies being produced and spread around.  Uncle told me that viral marketing, for instance refers to marketing techniques that use social networks to propagate brand awareness or to achieve increased product sales. It is said that this is achieved  through a process of replication of self much like the viruses do by latching on to all contacts. That explains the viruses infecting all digital gadgets that use software……

Then I imagined what would have happened if I had not smiled on the fateful day in the lift.  Else my mod teen neighbour would have told my daughter ( her friend) what a dud father she had. My daughter would then admonish me in front of her mother for not keeping myself updated on the modern lingo and how she had to face humiliation from her friends et al. My wife would then tell me the futility of spending hours on the golf course instead of reading the business pages in the news papers. “What sort of a businessman are you?” she would have asked. “Have you not heard of Viral marketing?”. she would enquire. The wife is an expert on facebook where she has managed to locate a long lost friend living in an obscure street on the outskirts of New York with a picture of her exercising on a cycle machine.

 All this I imagined would have been the sequence of events if I had not smiled on the lift that day.  I shuddered even while I imagined. So these days I am in frequent conversation with uncle lest I initiate a different variety of virus which will get my throat, yes, in a different way. Will that be known as spiral, I wonder.

Peanuts are not peanuts anymore

‘Singhdana’, ‘Mungphili’ or ‘kadala’ (in Malayalam) evoke various sentiments when spoken in different languages. With a ¼ ` (or 25 ps) in the early 1960s one could hire a cycle for two hours for a ride down to watch RAC Bikaner (with Magan Singh) take on Mohammedan sporting in the Sri Narayanaguru soccer tournament, dig into a sumptuous meal of kadala varuthathu (fried peanuts) and generally have a good time. Enrtry for students was free for the matches. In those days one could get much more for a quarter in Kannur than in say Pune or Dehradun.

‘Monkey nuts’, is an oxymoron. It must have been a crazy guy who gave peanuts that name. Whether it is meant that monkeys usually eat these nuts (there is no recorded history of such activities by the simians) or we eat the nuts with a monkey like demeanor is a moot point. But monkey and nuts don’t suit in the same name. Peanuts are not just peanuts anymore. They produce oil, butter et al and are also used in a variety of snacks that go well with rum in Army messes.

We have a corner in our ‘terrace garden’ (read a few potted plants) where we keep water and food for the birds. All variety of birds come to partake of our offerings that include left over two minute noodles which is the favourite with the kite who has made its nest on the ‘mobile tower’ on a building about fifty meters from our house. We may have to visit the Gir sanctuary and learn first hand what the lions there eat these days…. Killing cattle is banned in the state of Gujarat which produces a large part of singhdana output of India.

Peanuts are not just peanuts anymore…

Ek glass chai hojaye

The ‘cuppa’ is a mystery with mystic effects. More often than not it is the cup of tea that cheers. The origin of tea goes back to many centuries ago, probably even beyond BC……Anyway that is not pertinent to the point. Chai has become something more than a cup of brew. In many countries like China and Japan it is the official drink ceremonially served to guests of prominence and others too. In those ceremonies the server and serving are important with the former going through her paces elegantly on which deals are made or unmade. But the humble chai usually served in glasses of varying sizes is sought after dearly. It is a drink for every occasion. On waking up or on retiring to bed – be it day or night. It is imbibed for vigour at work or just to relax at times.

For the more affluent it is do chhhaiyyyeeeee…. For others it is ek one by two or if you are in Chennai it is one cutting. Both meaning the same to say the order is for one tea in two portions to be shared by friends. Enemies do not drink tea together…they may share a tot or any other brew but will never share a cup of tea – that is the law of nature. It is always tea break except in the middle of cricket matches…where again I suspect cold lemon tea is the preferred drink by many players these days.

The best ever tea one can get is in the wayside tea stalls especially in Kerala. The tea in these shacks is made in a singularly unique way. The water is constantly on the boil in a copper drum with a narrow opening on the top and a tap at the bottom. Tea dust (not leaves) in a loose strainer is placed on the opening at the top so that the tea dust is kept warm and humid by the vapours rising from the boiling water. When the call for oru chhhaaaayyyyeeee is made, the brewer picks up a five inch tall glass pours an ounce of hot milk (also kept warm) into it and adds a spoon of sugar. Into a steel mug of a litre capacity goes some hot water through the tap in the drum. Deftly holding the mug in the right hand, the magician picks up the strainer with the tea dust with the left, holding it above the glass pours boiling water into it, pours back the excess water from the mug back into the drum through the opening at the top, then returns the strainer to its place, keeps the empty mug aside, all in one deft move and announces cahya reddie. No spoons, no stirring, no snouts, no cozy but the result is a divine brew.

It has been ordained in the ancient scriptures that a Malayalee serve this divine brew even in places where man (or woman) has not set foot…. So the story goes……

The Sundry Times - II

Newer Delhi

September 28, 2012

In preparation for the advanced winter session of Parliament, we witness frenzied activities in and around Tihar Jail. Now that the majority of Parliamentarians and a good number of bureaucrats are in Tihar, the legislature is forced to function in Parliament and the jail simultaneously. A mini Lok Sabha facility has been created in Tihar and directly connected to the Parliament house through a high speed 4G VPN, duly securatised by all relevant agencies. The legislature through use of technology can function seamlessly, though geographically separated by miles.

This has caught the attention of the world. The success of this set up has prompted the Government to examine the feasibility of connecting all state legislatures and state central jails through a dedicated network to ease the overcrowding at Tihar. With the judicial procedures as they are and most of the lawyer inmates like Raja and others preferring to argue their own respective cases, it may be a long while before Tihar returns to its original serene jail house with regular Yoga, Suraychakras and such. It is expected that other democracies will also adopt the distributed governance model for increased efficiency and reduced costs. TCS, Wipro, Infosys and others  (though in jail, through proxies) are eying a great business opportunity here.

All is quiet on our Western borders. Pakistan has given up its proxy war in Kashmir. The Western borders are now open for free trade between India and Pakistan. All Pakistan Army now is concentrated on its Western borders to defend that country from an impending attack by the US.  With no axe to grind with Pakistan, India is neutral overtly and supports Pakistan covertly. China, sensing the inefficiency and ineffectiveness of the US Army is not bothered about these developments.

Instead, China is concentrating all its efforts in building infrastructure projects in India. The joint venture between India and China in the North Eastern Himalayan regions to harness shale gas is expected to ease the pressure on energy requirements of India and China, who these days call the shots in the IMF. Toward the end of last year in an unprecedented move Manmohan Singh took over as the President of IMF on a special request by G20 leaders to steady the World economy. This move also suited India. Now Pranab Mukherji is the PM and Sonia is back in a 'hospital' in the US with Rahul in attendance, which also contributes to good governance.  Now that India is on a steady keel, all the prominent news anchors of all the prominent Indian news channels have been loaned to various democracies of he world to bring their respective governments also on even keel. For instance Rajdeep Sardesai is on loan to BBC because of his added interest in cricket. Barkha Datt, though has stayed back to set up the Public Information department of J&K, on a special request from the chief minister Omar Abdulla.

An Army spokesman, on behalf of the C-in-C Gen VK Singh, in a press conference last Friday (a weekly routine these days) expressed satisfaction at the progress of integrating the MOD and defence headquarters. He confirmed that this exercise will be completed before the next Republic day.

English – the language

“Chennai needs to be at their best against Cobras”; this message stared at me in the morning from the pages of the daily news paper as I sipped medicated tea which was to counter a bad throat ensued as a result of excess ice in my whisky the previous evening. I immediately called Venu the Bard to warn him of the Cobras going loose in Chennai if he already did not know. My first thoughts were that these slippery characters had escaped from the big and only so big snake park in the country located on the edge of the mega polis that is Chennai. It was then he told me that these were cricket teams fighting it out in the champions’ leagues T20 cricket tournament currently being held in India. I heaved a sigh of relief. Chennai super kings is a Chennai based team and Cape Cobras, as the name suggests, had come from he wilderness of South Africa, I was educated.

I wonder why our Home Minister is ‘at war’ with our finance minister, while the Indian Army is thought to be having a picnic in J&K. The Army is supposed to be at war and not civilized ministers or civil societies. But while these ministers are at war, it is the opposition who is constantly attacking the Government!!!! While the CBI grills Jaswant Singh, McDonalds are planning McDosa, Mcidli, Mcvada et al. Is the CBI into inventing more exotic fares in competition? When they are not attacking they are slamming the Government as if the Government was a garage door of he neighbour who always parks his car at the entrance to your driveway. If the parliament is in session some members of the opposition almost always jump into the well. How they are rescued is a matter of state secret. While with the parliament, it is intriguing why the speaker is called so when (s)he is only supposed to listen and not give speeches. 

This English language…..Oh! I held my head in my hands. That was when this little bird told me that the English know and understand very little of this language!!!!! Who then are we to fret and fume?

Why a soldier dies

Yesterday another soldier died in the Valley.

There are two types of calamities. One type is created by man that could have been prevented from happening in the first place. The second is a force majeure event which cannot be prevented from occurring – an earthquake is in this category and providing succour to the victims of such a tragedy is as noble an act as any.

A war is a man made calamity – a calamity, as war always results in destruction of lives. A war has the potential to be prevented at some point of time prior to the event itself.  And when there is war there is death. Death, where man kills man, most times against his free will. It is always a premature death leaving behind parents, siblings, wife, children, colleagues, friends et al and seemingly meaningless in retrospect.  A soldier does not create war – he has never done it. Nor has a soldier unilaterally ended a war.  I will put my neck out and say that a war has never ended with a solution. A total exhaustion of the warring factions has often ended wars without any meaningful and lasting solution(s) having been achieved.  A modern day war can at best achieve very limited objectives lasting only for a brief period of time. The continuing war in J&K for instance is man made and perpetuated for over two decades due to the indifference and callousness of the rulers. It is now such that the youngsters of today, who form a considerable part of the population do think the action in J&K to be routine as they have not seen peace in the area. Hence this indifference from the media to the death of a soldier. I am not by any means justifying any act…I am only trying to find reasons and solutions. In the event, have we the veterans also fallen into the trap of being indifferent to a soldier’s death? I would not say so. We know how our heart bleeds; We know how the hearts of our wives and children bleed at such news. A tear drops. Food is suddenly unpalatable. We want to reach out to those who have lost and some of us often do. In the event at the end of it all what is left is pent up anger and frustration….because the soldier died of  incompetence of the rulers in finding a political / social solution to a problem.

The soldier died because the rulers have failed to identify the enemy. The soldier died because he is made to fight a faceless enemy who is often one of his own. The soldier died because he is inadequately provided for by way of sophisticated equipment, intelligence et al. The soldier died because there have been no sincere efforts from the rulers to end the war.