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Of Politics & Politicos

24 Nov

I’m an unlikely candidate to have connections in bureaucratic circles. A schoolmarm with a social work background hardly hobnobs with the jet-setting ministerial cadre. And yet, I have one such friend. Someone who I wouldn’t have ordinarily mentioned, had it not been for the backlash he constantly faces from land sharks, political bodies with vested interests and foreign companies wanting to invest unethically in the state of Kerala. Time and again, stunts are played out to pull him down. And media intervention in the form of exposes helps him retain his head and position in the nick of time.

Attempts have been made on his life and saner folks wonder why he labors in government positions when the corporate offers thrown at him would enable him to live like a czar. We’ve discussed this more than once and idealists that we are, we believe somebody’s got to effect change. And so I chant nursery rhymes instead of working in glitzy PR and he gets sent off to the interiors of Madhya Pradesh on random pretexts, so plans can be implemented to get rid of him. While my efforts are and will always be humble and limited, this man’s strife is worth a wider audience.

Let me point you to the Indian Express article about him on November 21st. And if for no other reason, please browse through it to know that not every IAS officer is out to feed off our country. There is hope, and its name is Radhakrishnan Luxman.

Lay It On, Bebe

21 Nov

It’s a sad life when you’re getting laid off instead of just laid.

~Me to a friend, during an online conversation

About the Black Man in the White House

9 Nov

Thank you for those warm wishes.  I can see you with all smiles, laughter and with displays of admiration.  We are so happy here at this historical time.  The election of the first ‘African-American/ visually multiply ethnic’ President is more than a breath of fresh air for many.  This is true especially for those who fought against ferocious dogs and water hoses and police brutality in order to get the American vote.  The suppressed breath for real citizenship has been exhaled.

~Email from a dear friend, a southern, African-American lady, who had to flee her state after marrying a white man in the ‘70s. She is now blind, but has the clearest insight of any person I know.

Also, jerk those tear glands here.

Somebody Up There Finally Listened

5 Nov

and-the-winner-is1

(Photo credit: Callie Shell for Time, via Indiequill).

Links:

CNN on the historic win.

Details at the BBC.

Thank yous on Obama’s blog.

Result reactions in pictures.

Welcome, # 44, it’s about time.

Ladies, He’s Available

16 Oct

Here I am, trying to call you to make sure you haven’t drunk yourself into a stupor, and there you are, in the headlines, winning the Booker! Congratulations! Now apartments and women should never be a problem again.

~In an email to our latest Booker winner.

P.S. He is not a drunk. I’m just hysterical.

Linguistically Speaking

10 Oct

So the language hydra has reared its head again. One more beautiful construct that we as a species have contorted into ugly power games, but that’s not the point of this post. (Be warned: there may be none at all.) A phenomenon that I had observed on my numerous visits to Pune last year, and commented on to friends, has crept into Bombay recently. Over the past month, I have noticed that most storefronts, hitherto announcing their names in English only, have added Marathi counterparts to their banners. So the Ratan Tata Institute, an oasis of jam tarts, chicken rolls and other Parsi goodies, is now also the “Aar Tee Ai” in bright red devnagari script next to the entrance. Aarti Stores, where the Gujarati housewives of Walkeshwar flock to when guests drop in unannounced, now has its Indian name written in an Indian language. And the NCPA, where no non-English-speaking person sets foot, staff included, has a seemingly unnecessary little plaque outside its hallowed gates. Whether reluctantly, resignedly or compliantly, businesses and store fronts have moved toward bilingualism quickly and noiselessly, changing the city in insidious, permanent ways.

While some reference Raj Thackeray’s indulgence in petty politics for the “ghati” vote, others express dismay at the loss of the city’s much-mentioned cosmopolitanism. (You see, we in Bombay knew the word a long time before Sarah Jessica Parker came along to popularize the drink.) Still others (or maybe just an unsure I) believe this sort of inclusionism may actually help the city’s linguistically marginalized population, namely, the non-English speakers, feel more a part of it. Or will it? Is this move really about people at all? We know the answer to that.

If the masses of Bombay are so alien to the English language, I can’t help wondering why a majority of our movie posters are in English, a majority of our working class sends text messages in local languages using Roman script, and whether those who can now magically read signs all over the city will be able to afford entry into the places that were hitherto monetarily inaccessible.

I’m partial to languages, I’ll admit it up front. Yes, some more than others, but languages and their usage fascinate me and my radar may be a little more sensitive than most. So I wonder how many people all over Bombay have noticed this makeover of their city and whether they have given a thought to the nature of change and how it affects a city’s identity. Does it reverse the increasingly international flavor of an aspiring-to-be-global city? Does localism take a back seat in this race to be citizens of the world? In typical Mumbaikar get-on-and-make-money fashion, we’ve done the deed and moved on, but will our city take to the change as readily as we have?

There’s something clearly primal about language and its use/ disuse that raises hackles. Is it because our earliest memories are associated with certain semantic structures? Is it because it prompts a feeling of belonging to a group? Or is it because it’s a comfort zone we are reluctant to step out of? I don’t claim knowledge of all the answers, but I suspect it’s a combination of these factors, among still others, and can’t help wondering what comes next in these attempts to create linguistic insularity, because this certainly isn’t the last we’ve seen of it. Any thoughts?

OJ Hearts…

28 Jul

…Heath Ledger as The Joker in The Dark Knight.

Now I don’t claim to be a film critic, connoisseur or even a regular keen watcher of the medium, but in my book, this is one of the best performances–film or stage–I have ever witnessed. So deeply did the actor disappear into the character that, come to think of it, I wouldn’t even call it a performance. Or the role of a lifetime. It was almost as if he lived his last months being The Joker. And a good half year after his tragic demise, I’m heartbroken at having discovered him only now.

But then again, if you’re all the way up there, the only way out is off the ride. Suddenly, people, I feel like the joke’s on us.

Edited to add: Clearly, I’m not the only fan The Joker has. Check out this clown.

A Funeral In The Bloggerhood

14 Jul

So most of you know that I’ve been whining about the big Three-Oh around the corner. I was. Until today, that is. Nothing like some solid numbers to keep things in perspective. 30 seems infinitesimally teensy-weensy when you think about 108. That’s how old she was when she passed away today. The oldest blogger on the planet is no longer among us.

R.I.P., Olive. There’s sure to be wireless connectivity where you are.

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