Walk like an Egyptian

That could well be the anthem of change for a world that seems to be standing on its head. The Egyptian chant for change is a million-voice din that is begging to be heard above the din. Hosni Mubarak, the current Public Enemy No. 1, represents a malady that has overtaken our world today - a complete breakdown in listening. At every level and in every available space and forum, everyone is talking. Who's listening? It's not just in political systems; in institutions, in communities, even in families, listening is dead (long live listening). We hear but we don't listen. The highest form of respect you can afford to a fellowman is to listen. So the opposite is equally true. Sadly, today's leaders - and not just political leaders - listen only to themselves. Nothing can be more dangerous to institutions and societies than a leader who begins to believe that he is a leader by right and not by sanction. Leaders need the sanction of the people they lead, to exist. The Father of Taosim, Lao Tzu said "To lead the people, walk behind them." Leading from the front is fine, but sometimes you need to look back to check if anyone is following.

It's not just in "repressive regimes" that leaders stifle all voices but their own. This phenomenon is rampant in so-called democratic institutions. Indian institutions are peopled by feudal mindsets that demand obedience with a sense of entitlement rather than seek validation through enrollment. This refusal to listen has become accepted norm not just in politics but even in industry. There is one difference though - in industry, institutional heads simply want the job done without debate or dissent; in politics, leaders simply want the job NOT done without debate or dissent. How many Indian ministers, bureaucrats, even ordinary clerks in government offices will listen and consider carefully a dissenting viewpoint? In many institutions, the only value of an individual's existence is in relation to how much he/she can nod in agreement to a megalomaniac's mood swings. How many educational institutions allow their wards to dissent and still be respected? For that matter, how many workplaces allow healthy dissent? Institutional heads are very blase about the brazen erosion of respect for people (without whom the institution wouldn't exist) while they spend time preaching to the choir about democratic values. All of these "leaders" are creating pockets of disgruntled citizens - in places of learning, in places of work, in places of worship. Wherever dialogue is absent and dissension is discouraged, the seeds of revolution will take root. Institutions face exodus of good talent; administrative machineries stagnate and begin to rot from within because they house unhappy apathetic people who don't listen to citizens because no one listens to them; religious institutions incubate extremist offshoots; educational centers produce rebels without a cause. One fine day, this simmering discontent boils over on to the streets searching the landscape for a representative around whose neck it can hang the albatross. For now, it's found Mr. Mubarak's neck.

R.I.P. PRIVACY

It's official - thanks to TIME - the legacy of decade 2000 is reinvention of communication. Around the globe, people are "collecting" people, and how! You'd think homo sapiens is now an endangered species. In chatrooms, on cell phones and Blackberrys, on mailing lists and networking sites, people are talking to anyone who cares to listen, like never before. Celebrities are leading the yakking brigade. A plush sofa and a dolled-up talk show host are invitation enough for people to spill their guts on national and international television (the tissue industry has never had it so good).

India was rated the most garrulous nation in a recent poll. From decades of state-sponsored thought control to no-thought no-control, we've come a long way, baby. There are now 10,000 ways to connect to your neighbour who you can reach across and tap on the shoulder, but that's passe. Cell phones have unrecognizably altered the way people interact with one another. Privacy is now a bathroom break. It's perfectly acceptable for 6 people to sit at a table constantly texting or talking on their phones - to everyone except the people they're sitting with. It raises decibel levels but not eyebrows. You cannot sit in a restaurant or in a theater or even stroll down a street without overhearing some unwanted detail of a stranger's life. Run but you can't hide. (I even get calls from songs).

YouTube - where you can get your 15 minutes of fame in less than 15 seconds - is our passport to global citizenship. Simply monkeying around with a handycam will guarantee you eyeballs, a fan club, and instant stardom. If that's not enough, you can minute your life in hair-splitting detail (and atrocious spelling) on the worldwide web - and then supplement it with pictures. Because it's insanely easy to be seen and heard, nothing needs to be left unsaid or unseen anymore. And as Voltaire said, anything too stupid to be said, can be sung. And taped. And broadcast. Live! Bling is king. Silly season is here to stay. Everyone's invited.

I Pinched a Mannequin

This is a DIY manual on how to ruin a perfect Sunday evening.

1. Sneak up to your comatose spouse and announce in your best "bright idea" voice..."LET'S GO SHHOPPPIIINNNGGG!!!!"

2. Pick a mall that you're sure the world and its mother will be at.

3. Wailing ambulance behind you.

4. Slow down and pull over to let it pass.

5. Wonder why he's chasing you and not passing you.

6. Check rearview mirror. No ambulance. Your sleeping angel has woken up in the backseat.

7. Yell at spouse.

8. Get yelled back at.

9. Drive into mall parking lot and join 2658 cars in front of you.

10. Pick a store in the mall that's offering 50% off on everything from pin to plane to lost babies whose parents forgot to pick them up after last week's shopping.

11. Pick your weapon of mass destruction - your shopping cart.

12. Go berserk filling it. Look for sales people to assist you.

13. Excitedly share with spouse your discovery of anti-male/female pattern balding lotion.

14. ....while spouse quietly hemorrhages visualizing hair growing everywhere except on your head.

15. Lean over and breathe into spouse's ear: "It's okay, honey. I'll still love you when you look like a bear."

16. Notice you can't tell difference between mannequins and sales people.

17. Sneak up to a figure and cough suddenly; figure doesn't flinch. Phew! Mannequin.
18. Sidle up to another mannequin and pinch it. Shoot! Mannequin jumps and yelps - NOT mannequin.

19. Apologise and ask where the cereal section is.

20. Apologise again - NOT mannequin, NOT sales person.

21. Resume hunt for sales person.

22. Spot zombie with badge and approach.

23. Scratch head as zombie refuses to open mouth and points vaguely in a northwesterly direction.

24. Head for billing.

25. Pick line where guy in front of you has billed 10,000 bucks...

26. ....and is paying for it in coupons...

27. .....in denominations of 10s and 20s...

28. ....and he's reached 6000 and lost count and has started over....

29. .....for the 5th time.

30. Oh Shoot! Where's your baby?

31. Panic.

32. Tear around the store like your neighbour's Rottweiler is on your tail.

33. Pray you've lost your spouse as well.

34. Crash into shopping carts and body parts.

35. Find wailing baby in "50% off on Cereals!" section...

36. ....barcoded and price tagged.

37. Grab baby and head back to billing...

39. .....that now has 1629 people in front of you.

If you're a man, you get off here. Congratulations!! Your Sunday is now well and truly ruined. But what the hell...pop a beer can and tune into ESPN. WWF will seem like a picnic compared to what you've been through.

If you're a woman, read on. There's a lot of evening left to be ruined yet, so bring it on, baby!

40. Slam things around in your kitchen.

41. Yell at your maid.

42. Threaten your baby.

43. Burn the dinner.

44. If your spouse asks you what's wrong, say "nothing" and make it sound like a swear word.

Congratulations!!! NOW, your Sunday and your spouse's Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday are ruined!

And he hasn't even seen your shopping bill yet!

Forget the Bill, let's hear it for the dancers!

The idea of reservation itself is a backhanded compliment - it invokes pity, fractures self-respect, excuses and even celebrates mediocrity. It's as good as saying: "You have the brains of a cabbage, so here let me help you with a handicap." Reservation promotes divisive splinter groups that suddenly find legal sanction to placard and picket hysterically at the slightest hint of perceived injury to their new-found rights - exactly contrary to what it purports to do: promote inclusiveness.

Beyond all this, as a policy reservation has failed miserably - whether on class, caste, or religious lines. Till date there has not been a single well-researched data-proven study to show that reservation has benefited those it championed to benefit. There is ample evidence to the contrary - the policy of reservation has been abused by those who are in a position to manipulate the system (integrity is a burden in Indian politics). In the bargain, we've shortchanged the deserving and given merit a long unpaid vacation.

So why would reservation based on gender be any different? We have a penchant to scale failed policies, so we can fail even more spectacularly. The argument that we need more women in politics to address "women's issues" is ludicrous. Society's problems are gender neutral. Women and men are part of the same society. There are no "women's issues" and "men's issues" - they're simply issues because they affect everybody. Dowry deaths and exploitation and domestic abuse are society's problems, not women's. So are malnutrition, unemployment, and crime. We need academically qualified, ethically upright, and legally literate elected representatives - men and/or women - to address society's problems. It's counterproductive to label and compartmentalize society's ills because it sanctions some sections to throw up their hands and completely disengage from "your problem, not mine."

It could also set a dangerous precedent: Why stop with women's issues? Why not, say, beggars' rights? Or the rights of stand-up comics? Or jay walkers? Or dwarfs? Or door-to-door sales people? Are we going to allow each group to send a representative to the State Assembly or the Parliament? What has prevented the existing women parliamentarians
(who're shrilly out of control on national television at regular intervals) from framing sensible and sensitive policies for Indian citizens? If they couldn't or didn't all these years, what is going to change with this Bill?

The Bill is historic in one sense at least - though it's only got one foot in the door since the Lower House is yet to pass the Bill, it got the right (Ms. Swaraj and Co.) and the left (Ms. Karat and Co.) to hold hands and dance. Wow!...or whatever...

The Antidote (what I haven't learnt...)

I haven't learnt to twitter - or rather, to tweet
I haven't learnt to blush and study my feet
I haven't learnt to eat with chopsticks yet
Or that I argue like a complete idiot
I know patience is the mother of all virtues
But I haven't put that lesson to good use
I haven't learnt not to shoot off my mouth
To prevent a bad situation from going further south
I haven't learnt the art of grace under pressure
Or that I take for granted things I should treasure
I haven't learnt it's a little too late
To sulk and whine at thirty-eight.
Though I've got my fingers pretty badly burnt
I've learnt that I still haven't learnt.

Keep Walking - one for the road

A lot of people I know have an amazing road sense. Me, I was born without an internal GPS. If you stand me in a spot, blindfold me, and spin me around a couple of times, I won't know which way to turn (I'll probably stagger around drukenly for a few seconds, puke all over myself, and faint). People like me depend heavily on signage, landmarks, and auto drivers to get us to where we're going without crossing into the next state. But, it's not just my road sense, I'm hopeless at finding anything at all (which is why I'm not married); I couldn't spot a dancing moose in a discotheque because I wouldn't find the discotheque to begin with - even if one of those colored disco balls fell on my head.

One-way streets is a good concept but it can be terrifying for someone who has a great propensity to get lost because if you take the wrong road, there's literally no turning back and instead of going where you need to go, you'll end up going where the road takes you. (I'm better than my mom though - she once drove around a circle thrice before she realized she was going round and round.)

So if I have to go to a place which I haven't been to before, I usually do a recce the previous day. Problem is, it seems like I've never been to any place before - even the ones I've been to before. Which is how I set out to establish where the Government Arts and Science College is. I found the college but I didn't know I'd found it because it didn't have a board that said it was the Government Arts and Science College and it had been found; of course, all you had to do was to look at it to know it was a college but I need more proof - I need a board that proclaims what it is before you'll convince me and to my bad luck there was no board. And worse, now I had to find my way back home through the maze of one-ways. I simply kept following the road for 15 minutes without knowing where I was going.

I finally gave up and pulled up next to an auto driver and asked him "which way to Domlur?"

He looked at me like I'd asked him "Which way to Africa?" Then he giggled and pointed down the road and said, "Follow that road till you come to a U-turn, take the U-turn and go back to where you came from."

Very helpful.

"But where did I come from?" I asked him.

I think he wanted to say "I hope you don't want me to answer that," but he changed his mind and shrugged as if to say "anywhere you want it to be."

I peered at boards (the signage has really improved in the city) from which all kinds of names flew at me, some familiar ("so THAT's the railway station!") but mostly not. To cut a long story short, I followed the familiar sounding names and landed up in front of my aunt's house which is a good 10 kms from home but it was still home - it was lunchtime by now, I was hungry and tired and happy.

Life's like that - you suddenly realize you're on the wrong road but whaddya know, it's a one-way stret, so you keep going, and you stumble around following familiar sign boards guided by an inner intuition only to rediscover your faith in serendipity.

My "I've learnt that..." List

• Every opinion has an equal and opposite counter-opinion.
• Truth and fact are not the same thing because truth is almost always relative.
• People DO get away with crime.
• Sometimes it's easier to trust someone else than to trust yourself.
• No matter how eloquent you are, words will fail you when you need them the most.
• We talk the most when we have nothing to say.
• You're never too old for Archie comics.
• No matter how indifferent you are, a child's hunger will break your heart.
• If you drive in this city, it's hard not to swear.
• Only animals and children can love unconditionally.
• Hope is more often born out of desperation than optimism.
• It's more important to share silence comfortably than share conversation comfortably.
• Sharing grief creates more grief.
• Good spelling is fast becoming an oxymoron.
• Books on positive thinking can sometimes be very depressing.
• When a child asks you "Shall I show you how strong I am?" NEVER say "yes"
• The "moral compass" is really a compass and points in different directions for different people.
• Sometimes, "you say it best when you say nothing at all."
• You'll never find yourself unless you first lose yourself.
• Good music can move you in a way that can only be felt and never defined.

ABHOSTTBBLO continues....

Kyrgyzstan - one of the 15 countries that declared independence when the USSR fragmented into so many pieces that if you walk this territory, your two feet may actually be in two different countries, one of which might (or might not) be Kyrgyzstan. Kyrgystan’s (pronounced “wow!”) claim to fame is that it’s the only country in the world with just a single vowel in its name.

Goodbye Sweet Prince

We were absolutely crazy about Michael Jackson, my twin and I – 2 of the millions of his fans across the globe. Our first introduction to MJ was through “Off the Wall” in our teens - we went wild. It was the 80s – a time when there was very limited access to music videos or even visuals of celebrities, days of the audio cassette and SUN lyrics, and a decade before cable TV and Google. MJ almost constantly crooned from our bedroom and from our car stereo. He gazed down at us in his leather figure huggers from our bedroom walls and our wardrobe doors – we just couldn’t get enough of him. We rewound his tapes over and over trying to catch his lyrics – of course we hardly got a line here and there and then kept serenading ourselves with those precious few lines we caught. We never tired of watching videos of “Beat It” “Billie Jean” and “Thriller” a thousand times…..to this day, Thriller’s haunting background score remains one of the best pieces of music I’ve ever loved. Then came SUN (probably India’s first music magazine) and we religiously bought every issue and cut out every MJ photo, poster, news item, and song lyric that ever appeared on its pages. MJ had many great contemporaries in the 80s – Stevie Wonder, Kenny Loggins, Kenny Rogers, The Police, Prince, Madonna, Lionel Richie, Bruce Springsteen, Cindy Lauper – an endless galaxy of extremely talented musicians but he towered head and shoulders above them all with his outlandish and extravagant costumes, his mind-boggling videos, his impossible squeals which our dad said was the sound a pig would make falling off a building, (our dad also said of “Air Supply” that “they only supply air”) and boy did he have the moves!

As we grew older, our tastes matured – we realized there was life beyond MJ - but MJ was always the most comforting of our music collections; he was like the oldest thing in your wardrobe that you still wear because it’s the most comfortable piece of clothing. It became amusing to watch MJ refusing to grow up even as we grew up but no matter what he did and what people said about him, when he sang and he danced, he was our God. We fought for him, we defended him, we stopped talking to people who said “bad things” about him, we cried, we laughed, we ranted – all for MJ. Over the years, he faded gradually from our lives; we followed him on the news and every mention of MJ was nostalgic because it took us back to a time in our lives that would never be again. In him, the best years of our lives were preserved; he was the music world’s Peter Pan. He gave us unbelievable joy, his music touched our lives in a way that is impossible to describe. He taught us to love music passionately. He stayed a child forever.

The Tragedy of the Commons

In what is being dubbed as an unprecedented comic crisis, UN Secretary General Ban-Ki Moon departed from his textbook address to the UN to express his anguish at Archie’s decision to marry Veronica. “Betty Cooper is all set to become a suicide bomber,” he croaked in a strangulated whisper as heads of state looked on in horror. “No matter what we do, there’s one born every minute,” the distraught UN chief went on, looking and sounding dangerously close to a meltdown.
“It ain’t over till it’s over pal,” an unidentified voice called from the back to nervous laughter.
President Obama gamely tried to bring sanity to the situation by declaring, “It’s recession time, folks. A loser like Archie is better off with the Lodges than out on the streets looking for work.”
His comment was met with loud boos and desk thumping from one section and “hear, hear” from another.
“Always the bridesmaid, never the bride,” was Britian’s typically understated response.
“Excuse me! In my country, people are killing each other to eat mud!” exclaimed an enraged representative from the continent of Africa, “maybe you should fly your Archie and Veronica to my country for their honeymoon,” he fumed in disgust.
The House descended into chaos with Russia, China, and Pakistan aggressively outbidding each other for discounted airline fares to the newlyweds.
When asked to comment, Cuba’s leadership was blunt, “Archie can marry Veronica’s mother for all we care.”
“Or her father,” was North Korea’s laconic quip.
India has called for a 3-day closed-door meeting of the SAARC nations to decide what to decide. “We’re monitoring the situation,” was the only cryptic comment from the big brother of the subcontinent.
The Secretary General pounded the desk with his gavel for order causing the Israeli leader to jump up with a blood-curdling shriek as he looked at his shattered fingers in horror. The leader had to be straitjacketed and carried out to prevent him from firing a gun that he pulled on the shocked Secretary General.
“How did he get that in?” protested the Middle Eastern bloc. “This is a conspiracy. The infidel planned to assassinate us! All deals are off. We’re blowing up Israel right now,” they yelled and stormed out.
The Secretary General asked for a show of hands for Veronica and Betty assuring the House that he would force Archie to abide by the majority’s wish. The USA, France, Italy, Australia, and China raised their hand for Veronica – and for Betty. Indian diplomats studied their feet and sat on their hands. An Iraqi diplomat hurled his shoe at the Secretary General but missed him and caught Gordon Brown square in the face. “Bull’s eye” muttered Nicholas Sarkozy unaware that he was caught on tape. England immediately severed all diplomatic ties with France. “Wait till I go home and tell Carla about this,” grinned Silvio Berlusconi, the Italian premier.
“Carla is MY wife you senile creep,” a shocked and livid Sarkozy screamed.
“Oh,” was the Italian premier’s muted defence.
“Please let us all calm down,” pleaded the Secretary General. “At this hour of grave global crisis, it’s important that we all stand together putting our petty differences aside.”
“Yeah right,” said a Bangladeshi diplomat, “after all, in my country only a few tens of thousands have been displaced by floods but clearly this is a far greater humanitarian crisis we have on our hands.”
When asked to comment, the German Chancellor said, “I think I need a drink,” and headed off to find one.