The Indian Prime Minister Dr. Manmohan Singh is recuperating from a bypass surgery at the Intensive Care Unit of the AIIMS.
But what baffled me the most was the fact that the PM was more under the IMC or Intensive MEDIA Care than under the much required Intensive MEDICAL Care. The way the most erstwhile of Indian media houses covered this story would put to shame the hardcore paparazzi fraternity of the British media.
Interviewing Dr. Singh’s nephews and asking them how they wish to remember their uncle or asking the Congress spokesman ‘Are you keeping your fingers crossed?' was some display of abysmal journalism. Graphics and info on what a bypass were also provided. A discussion on the technicalities of a bypass with the most eminent of cardiac surgeons was shown on prime time. This was simply not in line with the journalistic basics but a show by, for and of the TRP mad media sharks. Well, the only personal positive outcome was that I switched from the news channels to the good old Cartoon Network much to my daughter's delight.
A couple of weeks back the Indian media provided us some live coverage of a terrorist attack with some grenade throwing action and AK 47 firings. Thanks to the intensive security around the operation theatre we just fell short of a live coverage of a bypass surgery or else the good old Indian media would have made a theater out of the operation.
If they had an opportunity they would have even called it 'The live coverage of Operation Bypass'.
Wishing you a speedy recovery Mr. Prime Minister.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
I Barack Hussein Obama…
A week in which the 44th President of the United States of America was sworn in... & sworn in once again, to be legally and politically correct.
‘Where did you get that funny name?’ is what people asked him the most according to him in the prologue of his book ‘The Audacity of Hope’. Barack Hussein Obama a name that is quiet different & funny, a skin pigmentation that is different, and a talk that is different. So, as they say, the change is here… but for how long is the question. What better a name to mediate the Middle East crisis? A Jewish sounding first name, a Muslim middle name and an almost neutral last name. An American President’s name that does not have a Christian overtone to it. It’s no longer a Theodore, Robert, Richard, Ronald, Bill, George or even a Abraham but It’s just a Barack Hussein Obama.
Well every one I meet say that Obama is a great orator, but is that enough to be a neo world Atlas, When Atlas Shrugged the world shook. In this case if America sneezes the whole world catches a cold. Under such a scenario can we say an eloquent speaker is all that is needed to carry the American / World order forward? Will the talk ever walk?
Walking the talk is something only the seasoned politicians have mastered. I am always of the opinion that age matters in Politics. The older you are, the better you are, is the mantra in politics. It’s nice to make strong statements and send strong messages on day one of assuming office but the sustainability and the realisation of the statements / messages is what differentiates one from being referred in history and being history.
I always thought and felt that this American election was more emotional than rational. A kind of Indian reservation scenario was evident; I was reminded of the election of Mr. K R Narayan as the first Dalit President and the appointment of Justice K. G. Balakrishnan as the first Dalit Chief Justice, with due respects to both of them who deserve every bit of the positions they went on to hold. However I have a feeling that the emotional quotient prevailed over the rational in this American presidential elections.
Yes We Can!!! was an electoral slogan…? I’m sure the American people are all ready to say Yes we can once again but, Can you?? Mr. President. I just hope and pray that at the end of the 4 year term you can proudly beat your chest and say ‘Yes We can’ was transformed to ‘Yes we did’.
Congratulations and Good luck Mr. Barack Hussein Obama. (The sad part of it is, when you type Obama the spell check on MS Word returns Osama... so much for the good over the evil).
‘Where did you get that funny name?’ is what people asked him the most according to him in the prologue of his book ‘The Audacity of Hope’. Barack Hussein Obama a name that is quiet different & funny, a skin pigmentation that is different, and a talk that is different. So, as they say, the change is here… but for how long is the question. What better a name to mediate the Middle East crisis? A Jewish sounding first name, a Muslim middle name and an almost neutral last name. An American President’s name that does not have a Christian overtone to it. It’s no longer a Theodore, Robert, Richard, Ronald, Bill, George or even a Abraham but It’s just a Barack Hussein Obama.
Well every one I meet say that Obama is a great orator, but is that enough to be a neo world Atlas, When Atlas Shrugged the world shook. In this case if America sneezes the whole world catches a cold. Under such a scenario can we say an eloquent speaker is all that is needed to carry the American / World order forward? Will the talk ever walk?
Walking the talk is something only the seasoned politicians have mastered. I am always of the opinion that age matters in Politics. The older you are, the better you are, is the mantra in politics. It’s nice to make strong statements and send strong messages on day one of assuming office but the sustainability and the realisation of the statements / messages is what differentiates one from being referred in history and being history.
I always thought and felt that this American election was more emotional than rational. A kind of Indian reservation scenario was evident; I was reminded of the election of Mr. K R Narayan as the first Dalit President and the appointment of Justice K. G. Balakrishnan as the first Dalit Chief Justice, with due respects to both of them who deserve every bit of the positions they went on to hold. However I have a feeling that the emotional quotient prevailed over the rational in this American presidential elections.
Yes We Can!!! was an electoral slogan…? I’m sure the American people are all ready to say Yes we can once again but, Can you?? Mr. President. I just hope and pray that at the end of the 4 year term you can proudly beat your chest and say ‘Yes We can’ was transformed to ‘Yes we did’.
Congratulations and Good luck Mr. Barack Hussein Obama. (The sad part of it is, when you type Obama the spell check on MS Word returns Osama... so much for the good over the evil).
Friday, January 16, 2009
From Kappa to Kubboos…The saga of a Gulf Malayalee…
I should be honest here and acknowledge that I drew inspiration for the title from a recent Telugu movie ‘Avakai Biriyani’ directed by a Malayalee, Anish Kuruvilla. Avakai the super duper spicy chunky mango pickle in oil, the pride of Telengana side of Hyderabad and Biriyani the pride of the Nawabi side of Hyderabad. This I thought was a superb title for a movie.
Well to relate this title with the Gulf malayalee what better than Kappa, Kappa or Tapioca is a common man’s staple diet back home in Kerala and Kubboos an Arabic Bread which has beaten all inflationary trends and still remains at close to 1 Dirham for a packet of 4 ( almost at 25 Cents). Again a Middle class Malayalee’s staple diet in the Gulf.
There are basically different leagues of Gulf Malayalees found in the Middle East.
a) The emigrant rural Malayalee who land’s up in urban Dubai (by the way Dubai is kind of a generic for the entire Middle East in Kerala) by virtue being related to his dad’s second cousin’s wife’s brother in law. He ends up on a visit visa and finds a job as a secretary and who within months finds a nurse from the same village as him from Kerala and marries her. His sole ambition in life is to build a palatial house back home which is atleast a square meter bigger than his immediate neighbour. He remains in this job until his kids are old enough to take over the mantle from him.
b) The kids grow up to be the second gen Mallu offspring’s of the ones described under Cat A and graduate from the kubboos to KFC’s and Big Mac’s (though they have been taught that it should be strictly once in three months cos the snack box from KFC costs Rs 144/- as per the Forex rates today). This is a confused gen. They grew up watching their dads cracking the exchange rates at the beginning of every month while they wanted a Play Station, Xbox or a MP3. Finally they get married to one of their dads friend’s daughter who was incidentally their school junior at the Indian school but only saw her at social gatherings cos the boys stream and the girls stream at the Indian schools had different timings. One of the parents decides to stay put and support their children in bringing up their grand children, under such a scenario the monthly remittance back home is 3 fold. The result being another palatial house in the middle of no where in Kerala. This is the PS3 generation, but still not liberated from the gulf parental pressures / clutches.
c) The Third type is the already Indian Metro bred Non Resident Keralites who again makes it to the Gulf on a visit visa by virtue of the benevolence of his dad’s first cousin. This type is in the Middle East with a ‘been-there-done-that’ attitude. Who has a rocking life and doesn’t end up making the kind of money the Cat A or the descendents of Cat A as described in CAT B make. Unless and until he happens to impress of one of the Cat A parent to part with his Cat B daughter.
But as the recession and low oil prices hit the Middle East, the recent days has seen an exodus of the great Indian Diaspora heading back home to an uncertain future, with the Dubai Dream shattered.
Well to relate this title with the Gulf malayalee what better than Kappa, Kappa or Tapioca is a common man’s staple diet back home in Kerala and Kubboos an Arabic Bread which has beaten all inflationary trends and still remains at close to 1 Dirham for a packet of 4 ( almost at 25 Cents). Again a Middle class Malayalee’s staple diet in the Gulf.
There are basically different leagues of Gulf Malayalees found in the Middle East.
a) The emigrant rural Malayalee who land’s up in urban Dubai (by the way Dubai is kind of a generic for the entire Middle East in Kerala) by virtue being related to his dad’s second cousin’s wife’s brother in law. He ends up on a visit visa and finds a job as a secretary and who within months finds a nurse from the same village as him from Kerala and marries her. His sole ambition in life is to build a palatial house back home which is atleast a square meter bigger than his immediate neighbour. He remains in this job until his kids are old enough to take over the mantle from him.
b) The kids grow up to be the second gen Mallu offspring’s of the ones described under Cat A and graduate from the kubboos to KFC’s and Big Mac’s (though they have been taught that it should be strictly once in three months cos the snack box from KFC costs Rs 144/- as per the Forex rates today). This is a confused gen. They grew up watching their dads cracking the exchange rates at the beginning of every month while they wanted a Play Station, Xbox or a MP3. Finally they get married to one of their dads friend’s daughter who was incidentally their school junior at the Indian school but only saw her at social gatherings cos the boys stream and the girls stream at the Indian schools had different timings. One of the parents decides to stay put and support their children in bringing up their grand children, under such a scenario the monthly remittance back home is 3 fold. The result being another palatial house in the middle of no where in Kerala. This is the PS3 generation, but still not liberated from the gulf parental pressures / clutches.
c) The Third type is the already Indian Metro bred Non Resident Keralites who again makes it to the Gulf on a visit visa by virtue of the benevolence of his dad’s first cousin. This type is in the Middle East with a ‘been-there-done-that’ attitude. Who has a rocking life and doesn’t end up making the kind of money the Cat A or the descendents of Cat A as described in CAT B make. Unless and until he happens to impress of one of the Cat A parent to part with his Cat B daughter.
But as the recession and low oil prices hit the Middle East, the recent days has seen an exodus of the great Indian Diaspora heading back home to an uncertain future, with the Dubai Dream shattered.
Bailout Vs Aid
Bailout has been the flavour of the month now for the last couple of months. Companies being bailed out, irresponsible people being bailed out… It looks like the bailout season is on.
I was inspired by a very thought provoking article Where's the bailout for the Hungry I read recently. Why is it that governments are willing to spend millions & billions of taxpayers money to bail out unscrupulous business houses.
I realised its called a bail out when it’s bailing out the recently poor and the needy among the rich and the famous, while it's called an aid or a charity when it is meant for the poor and the needy among the poor and the needy. A euphemistic approach is rendered to the cheats & mismanaged businesses while people who are poor and hungry are addressed / treated with a blatant sense of apathy.
If only a fraction of the millions & billions being pledged in alleviating the hardships of the rich & the famous were channelled into eradication of poverty, the world would have been a better place to live in.
I was inspired by a very thought provoking article Where's the bailout for the Hungry I read recently. Why is it that governments are willing to spend millions & billions of taxpayers money to bail out unscrupulous business houses.
I realised its called a bail out when it’s bailing out the recently poor and the needy among the rich and the famous, while it's called an aid or a charity when it is meant for the poor and the needy among the poor and the needy. A euphemistic approach is rendered to the cheats & mismanaged businesses while people who are poor and hungry are addressed / treated with a blatant sense of apathy.
If only a fraction of the millions & billions being pledged in alleviating the hardships of the rich & the famous were channelled into eradication of poverty, the world would have been a better place to live in.
Monday, January 12, 2009
From Chinna Chinna Aasai to Periya Periya Dreams…
That has been the journey of this music maestro from Chennai. He shot into fame with Roja and went on to become the first Indian music director to win the Golden Globe award for his score in the Slum Dog Millionaire. His rise to fame can be associated with India’s liberalisation era of early 90’s, the Internet, Napster etc. It was also a time when the Indian film Industry saw some serious marketing with the likes of glitzy music launches and the role of Music Directors came into prominence. He has to his credit some of the catchy numbers, catchy but ephemeral, very few lingers eternally.
This was not the case long back; songs on its own had to find its way into the ear drums of the listeners and then settle down in the dark recesses of the mind for ever, to be recalled when needed, years or even decades later. Let me give you an example. The song ‘Annakili Unna thedinen’ was a song in the Tamil movie Annakili which announced the birth of a legend, the Young Prince of Music, Illayaraja. He had and still has a cult like following and yours truly is a member too. Coming back to Annakili, a movie released when I was 4 and the song heard for the first time when I was probably 6, but even three decades later listening to it, is bliss. This is what I call everlasting music.
My intention was not to compare the two, since both are iconic names in Indian music, though one will be remembered by a generation of music lovers while the other will be remembered by more than one generation.
Congratulations Rehman!!!
This was not the case long back; songs on its own had to find its way into the ear drums of the listeners and then settle down in the dark recesses of the mind for ever, to be recalled when needed, years or even decades later. Let me give you an example. The song ‘Annakili Unna thedinen’ was a song in the Tamil movie Annakili which announced the birth of a legend, the Young Prince of Music, Illayaraja. He had and still has a cult like following and yours truly is a member too. Coming back to Annakili, a movie released when I was 4 and the song heard for the first time when I was probably 6, but even three decades later listening to it, is bliss. This is what I call everlasting music.
My intention was not to compare the two, since both are iconic names in Indian music, though one will be remembered by a generation of music lovers while the other will be remembered by more than one generation.
Congratulations Rehman!!!
Thursday, January 1, 2009
The Ghajini Resolution
I was asked what my New Year resolution would be, I said I’m looking at a 6 or a 8 Pack a la Aamir Khan in Ghajini…but unfortunately my hairline seen to be receding faster than the fat around my tummy and it looks like I could well be on the way to emulate Aamir as far as the hair style in Ghajini goes. I’m not sure about the angle of intersection of those two lines on his head & wish I knew them, cos that holds the key to success or so says an old wise crack in Malayalam that goes like this ‘Ellam Thala vara polla nadukkum’ Translated as ‘you will be as successful as the lines on your head’. The moolah that Aamir is raking out of this movie seems to justify this age old adage.
So by the end of 2009 you guys will soon see pictures of mine with a shaven or is it a fallen hairline but with 2 lines intersecting at the Ghajini angle…
Wishing you all a great New Year.
So by the end of 2009 you guys will soon see pictures of mine with a shaven or is it a fallen hairline but with 2 lines intersecting at the Ghajini angle…
Wishing you all a great New Year.
Party Animals beget Party Cubs….
My New Year resolution was to enter a year without complaining looks like I have broken it in a couple of hours into the New Year.
I came across an article in The Times of India (http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/Cities/Chennai/While_parents_party_kids_do_too/articleshow/3911595.cms) that a couple of places in Chennai were hosting ‘Shadow’ New Year ’s Eve parties to host the Party cubs while their Party animal parents where dining, dancing and drinking away to usher in the New Year. They were taking in kids from the age of 5 to 14 from 7.30 p.m. on 31st to the wee hours of the New Year morn for a sum of Rs. 750/-. One of them is held at a place called Kanchanapaati, a name that you would normally associate with a 9 yard sari clad septuagenarian Mylapore maami who wakes up to Suprabatham but not the type who would host a party late into the New Year morning. I don’t want to sound a loser or lil too old for my age, but W…T.. F*$K, I had'nt been to a New Year party until I was 22. I spent ushering in most of my New Years with a Candle in Hand at the Marthoma Syrian Church on Harrington Road, Chetpet, though on the way back from Chetpet to Besant Nagar, I had the opportunity to view the revelries on the road but never have been a part of it.
The days of Bacchanalia on New Years eve are over, welcome the days of ‘Bachu’nalia …kids who welcome the year high on coke, (as in Coca Cola) French fries and chicken drumsticks and jiving away to the latest Bollywood or Kollywood numbers… Wish you a Very Happy New Year and God save the kids…who are growing a lil too fast.
I came across an article in The Times of India (http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/Cities/Chennai/While_parents_party_kids_do_too/articleshow/3911595.cms) that a couple of places in Chennai were hosting ‘Shadow’ New Year ’s Eve parties to host the Party cubs while their Party animal parents where dining, dancing and drinking away to usher in the New Year. They were taking in kids from the age of 5 to 14 from 7.30 p.m. on 31st to the wee hours of the New Year morn for a sum of Rs. 750/-. One of them is held at a place called Kanchanapaati, a name that you would normally associate with a 9 yard sari clad septuagenarian Mylapore maami who wakes up to Suprabatham but not the type who would host a party late into the New Year morning. I don’t want to sound a loser or lil too old for my age, but W…T.. F*$K, I had'nt been to a New Year party until I was 22. I spent ushering in most of my New Years with a Candle in Hand at the Marthoma Syrian Church on Harrington Road, Chetpet, though on the way back from Chetpet to Besant Nagar, I had the opportunity to view the revelries on the road but never have been a part of it.
The days of Bacchanalia on New Years eve are over, welcome the days of ‘Bachu’nalia …kids who welcome the year high on coke, (as in Coca Cola) French fries and chicken drumsticks and jiving away to the latest Bollywood or Kollywood numbers… Wish you a Very Happy New Year and God save the kids…who are growing a lil too fast.
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