WWW = Wierd Wild World

Much's been happening. And almost all of it is quite hilarious. For instance, that ultra-secular obsessively-casteist party, otherwise known as the RJD has decided to field a rather deserving candidate in the upcoming Assembly elections in Maharashtra. Ladies and gentlemen, would you please welcome ... Mohammed Afroze. What! Never heard of him? C'mon! Here we have a man of such impressive credentials and you claim you haven't even heard of him? Mohammed Afroze, an erstwhile Mumbai slum-dweller, is a brilliant pilot, tutored at the very best and costliest flying schools in US and Australia. Since then, Afroze has been charged by law enforcement agencies with planning a conspiracy to use his newly obtained flying skills to crash aircrafts into prominent buildings across the world.

Here's what BBC had to say in an earlier report about our MLA wannabe,

"Detectives from Scotland Yard in London and the Australian police are currently in Bombay to discuss the case of an alleged member of Osama Bin Laden's al-Qaeda organisation, Mohammad Afroze.

Mr Afroze offered to make a confession in a city court here on Friday that he was part of a conspiracy to blow up the House of Commons in London, the Indian parliament and the Rialto Tower in Australia."

But if you think real deep, you'll hardly take a minute to get to the bottom of this puzzling affair. See, Afroze is an al-Qaeda member and al-Qaeda is not part of the Sangh Parivar. So according to the de facto law of the land, Afroze represents the secular forces. The RJD of course is another secular force, one which has for years been making commendable sacrifices in its fight against the communal forces. So isn't it but natural that these two join hands?

While the above may be humorous, another even funnier fiasco has come to light in the Delhi University campuses. As HT reports here, this July's payslip of all Delhi University employees has a curious item under 'deductions'. It says: Sexual Harrassment: Rs 10. Understandably, it's become something of a joke in DU circles. The truth behind the matter being that amidst rising cases of teacher to student sexual harrassment, the university has decided to set up a complaints division and is charging its employees for the expenses incurred for the division's operation. The least they could have done is come up with a less accusatory, more benign name for that innocent ten rupee deduction on employee payslips.

And while Delhites laugh themselves to nuts at the DU's fumble, residents of Hubli have a strikingly different trouble on their hands - a woman in red! Or rather a woman in saffron who is wreaking havoc on that otherwise peaceful place. Uma Bharati, the erstwhile Chief Minister of Madhya Pradesh, has decided to extract every ounce of media sympathy from the unexpected turn of events around her. So we get quotes like, "I smell the revenge of Sonia Gandhi. By seeking revenge against me, she forgot she is insulting the tricolour. To protect the honour of the tricolour, I am ready to face any consequence."

Revenge for what? is a reasonable follow-up question. Here's what Miss Uma says to that, "[because] I was the person who blocked Sonia Gandhi from becoming prime minister." Some ego that!

Political pundits are understandably confused as to who's come out on tops in this your-party-is-more-corrupt-than-mine game. First the Congress targets the NDA government for having George Fernandes as Defence Minister while his name was not cleared in the Tehelka scandal. The NDA returns the favor by creating unprecedented furore in the Parliament over tainted ministers in the current cabinet. Much hublaboo is heard about a guy named Sibhu Soren. Advantage NDA, it seems. But the NDA's jubiliance dies a quick death when an arrest warrant is issued against Uma Bharati in a decade old case about hoisting the tricolor at a disputed site. Advantage UPA! But in a brilliant last minute flourish, Uma Bharati turns the tables on her opponents by squawking phrases like "tirange ka samman" and stuff. Add to that the age-old Bofors scam, the millions of charge-sheets filed during Narsimha Rao's times, cases relating to Ayodhya and the coffin scam during Kargil and no one can say for sure who has the better of whom!

And to top it all, here's a classic soundbyte from the director of the film Julie, "Sexy films need not be sleazy!" I must say that the above quote raises some rather grave questions about Deepak Shivdasani's mental health. Surely, anyone who's managed to survive Julie will testify that the lesson to be learnt from the movie is, "Sleazy films need not be sexy!" But then Bollywood's the land where even hyper-liberated women like Mallika Sherawat shy away conservatively from discussing their past broken marriages. Hypocrisy's just not an issue here!

Ab bus bhi karo!

Santa was visiting Chandigarh for the first time. He wanted to see the Rock Garden.

Unfortunately, he couldn't find it, so he asked a police officer for directions, "Excuse me, officer, how do I get to the Rock Garden?"

The officer replied, "Wait here at this bus stop for the number 46 bus. It'll take you right there."

He thanked the officer and the officer drove off. Three hours later the police officer returned to the same area and, sure enough, Santa is still waiting at the same bus stop.

The officer got out of his car and said, "Excuse me, but to get to the Rock Garden, I said to wait here for the number 46 bus. That was three hours ago. Why are you still waiting?"

Santa replied, "Don't worry, officer, it won't be long now. The 43rd bus just went by!"

Taken from SantaBanta.com

A hanging in public glare

When I had read media reports describing the last moments of Dhananjoy Chatterjee, in vivid microscopic detail, I remember feeling strangely uneasy. At the time I had assumed the reaction sprang from the sympathy I felt for the man and his family. But this confused me. All along I had maintained that people who commit such henious crimes should be liable for death punishment. Why then did his hanging make me uneasy? Exams and other committments forced me to put the thought aside. Yesterday, while reading this article by Karan Thapar, I understood the answer.

As Thapar says,

I did not need to know that Dhananjoy Chatterjee was depressed or cried the day before he was hanged. Nor what clothes he wore or what food he ate for his last meal. Those were personal details. More importantly, they were moments of anguish. Moments that should have remained his and his alone.

May be we had a right to kill him. But not in a fish bowl. Not as entertainment. Not as spectacle. And we definitely did not have a right to commercialise his death"

Bull's eye!

Not-War Singh

I was reading this article on rediff about what Natwar Singh, India's foreign minister, had to say at the AICC annual meet held recently. I was quite amused by his comments. Mr. Natwar Singh claims that,

- The Simla accord in 1972 ensured peace for 27 years.
- The NDA government replaced Simla with Lahore and that amounted to a sell-off on Kashmir
- The credit for warm relations with China goes to Rajiv Gandhi's efforts while the credit for the recent warmth in Indo-Pak relations does not go to Vajpayee.
- The NDA government was ready to sign the CTBT but the Congress presured it to not do so.
- The NDA government was ready to send troops to Iraq but the Congress pressured it to not do so.

The truth on the other hand, is quite different.

- The Simla accord never maintained peace and friendship. A measure of the tensions can be had from the fact that when Rajiv visited Pakistan in the late eighties, it was the first visit by an India prime minister to Pakistan in 25 years. In my opinion, happy and peaceful neighbors visit each other much more often.
- There has been no bigger sell-off on Kashmir than the Simla pact. Everyone says that Indira Gandhi, negotiating from a position of strength after having just won the war, could have settled the Kashmir dispute for good. But Zulfikar Bhutto managed to fool her and got away just by giving hollow promises on resolving the issue. So if Lahore was a sell-off, Simla could perhaps be better described as charity.
- It was a Congress gvernment which was pressured by the US in 1994 to not conduct a nuclear test. What use is not signing the CTBT if you aren't gonna test anyway? In hindi we have this saying - ulta chor kotwal to daante!, which basically means the guilty have no right to accuse the innocent.
- The sender of the IPKF talks about how our troops would have suffered in Iraq!! Natwar Singh was Minister of State for External Affairs when the Indian Peace Keeping Force was sent to Sri Lanka. The contingent suffered heavy losses primarily because no one in the army knew for sure whom they were fighting against. Identifying the enemy in a war is a political function and the Congress leadership failed miserably at the job.

An aside: When the first of the IPKF contingents were returning from Sri Lanka, battered and bruised, they were supposed to make a pit-stop in Madras, the capital of Tamil Nadu. The people of Tamil Nadu were unhappy with the central government's decision to send in troops to fight against fellow Sri Lankan Tamils. Sensing the sentiment, M. Karunanidhi (leader of the DMK) who was the chief minister of Tamil Nadu at the time, did not even recieve the Indian troops at the airport. Under his express orders, not a single administration official was present to recieve the IPKF jawans and officers returning from duty!

From Shri Sameer Vinayak Kar's Diary

Maybe there's something wrong with me. Perhaps I am not made for politics. Yeah! I am sure I am not made for politics. As a law graduate, I could have made mincemeat of these Jaitleys who rule over Supreme Court!

But I gave up my ambitions for the service of the people. Twenty years of my life I gave to them, and what did I get? Zilch! Precisely zilch if you disregard the hundred odd crores I milked off that Mirage deal. And even that would be a distant dream had that Sodhi guy gotten defence. It was amazing how Dawoodbhai set that thing up. Even the IB report said Sodhi died in a highway accident! It's a pity Dawoodbhai ain't here anymore. Things were so much better with him around.

Aah, the good old days. When politics was a civilized game. Today's MPs are more goons than leaders. Corrupt minds, criminal connections, nefarious intentions - I hate them all! And most of all, I hate their hypocrisy when they call themselves janta ka sevak!

I think India needs me today. Perhaps it needs me even more than it needed me twenty years ago when I stood from Midnapore. It was amazing how easily I won my first election. I would dress in Bengali costumes, read Roman transliterations of Bengali speeches and whenever the crowd became dull, I would loudly proclaim Ami tomay bhaalobaashi! And before I knew, Midnapore was rooting for me. To be fair, the party high-command did arrange for a few poll booths to be captured - but I think I would have won anyway.

My troubles started the day I entered Parliament. I was to be sworn in that day. People advised me that my electorate will love it if I took my oath in Bengali. By now I considered myself an expert in reading romanized Bengali and I confidently agreed. I felt the oath went quite well. Ignoring the smirks and giggles in the audience, I regained my seat. Gosh! Even parliamentarians rag newcomers!, I thought. It was only later that I realized I had goofed up when that Calcutta West MP told me, "Tumko maloom, amaar Bengali maa constitution nahi shongbidhan bolte hai!"

Trust Bengalis to be sentimental about their language. The next day's newspapers in Midnapore all carried cartoons poking fun at my faux pas. How I wish I could have strangled the editors!

I guess that is the problem with me. I can't stand it when people joke at my expense. And politicians all need a bit of humor. I am not made for politics.

As an opposition MP, I quickly learnt how to get noticed by the top leaders. Whenever I felt that the ruling party was gaining an upper hand, I would shout "Tanashahi nahi chalegi" and wait to see if my war cry gathered momentum. And if some number of MPs showed interest, I would take off, faster than a 747, and land straight in the well of the house. I learnt then that not allowing the other guy to speak was the best way to debate!

The party realized my potential and within ten years I was an important party leader. I did not win many elections initially. But then politics is never about people - its about the people who matter. The party top brass, contacts like Dawoodbhai, relations with leaders in other parties. And I had enough connections to ensure I remained vital to my party.

Time flew on. In the meantime, I got the honor to be India's defence minister. Now my words carried weight! I made headlines day in and day out. Once I said "Poora Kashmir 2025 tak humara hoga!". It had seemed like a cool thing to say. A tough defence minister - I liked the image. And no liabilities attached for I would surely not be defence minister in 2025!

But the media fried my ass! I hate the media because they hate me. Whatever I do, those Pak-loving-bastards see red. Even when I bought those wonderful Mirages for our Air Force, not one newspaper praised me! All reports focussed on kickbacks and scandals and what not. Is it so difficult to see the good side of things? If only I could have strangled the editors!

I guess that is the problem with me. I can't stand criticism. And in politics, one must learn to be thick-skinned. I am not made for politics.

Our government did not last long and my office was snatched before I could even learn the name of my peon! Elections followed and I won from Purulia - after all, incumbent Cabinet Ministers rarely lose! Our party decided to support Rathi jee's givernment from outside. As quid pro quo, I was appointed Speaker of the Lok Sabha. Shri Sameer Vinayak Kar, Speaker - the name plate looked so good!

But it wasn't good at all. On my first day itself, I saw how unruly and indisciplined the MPs had become. At the slightest issue or provocation, every backbencher would troop to the well of the house and shout slogans. They never even let the other guy speak! Each day the story was repeated. The media labelled me a weak Speaker - one incapable of controlling the members. If only I could have strangled the editors!

It was August 28th when I blew it up. The week before had been immensely productive for the House when we clocked more than twenty hours of sustained debate and only twenty-three adjournments! That day, the House was scheduled to discuss Ayodhya and a bill relating to renumerations of MPs. Easy, I thought. I had surely not bargained for what followed.

As soon as the debate on Ayodhya began, the entire house was on its feet. I felt completely lost! Shouts, allegations, denials, dramatics - I could see it all, but could follow nothing! I failed to understand why someone would discuss an obscure has-been mosque in Ayodhya when important items like MP's renumerations were on the agenda. Lost in these thoughts, I looked on as the Hon'ble Home Minister made his speech. Suddenly, while the Home Minister was talking of secular forces and communal forces, one member decided to test the gravitational forces. Using his microphone as a projectile, he took aim and the misslie landed on the poor Minister's nose! The Home Minister literally turned red - from blood that is! Everyone was stunned and I quickly decided to adjourn the House, but not before I had suspended the guilty member and asked the Marshals to take him out.

The House reconvened two hours later. I noticed the Home Minister's face was now white - with bandages! Emboldened by my success at dealing with the truant member, I decided to make a speech to consolidate my authority.

"Fellow Members of Parliament", I began. "The standards of behavior in this august House are rapidly deteriorating."

From the corner of my eye, I could notice a junior member creating some pandemomium among the ruling party benches. Feigning ignorance, I continued, "This is the same House that has seen the likes of ..."

"Yeh speaker kisi kaam ka nahi hai!", a voice rang clearly in the House.

Stunned into silence, my brain instructed me to shift my gaze to the source of the sound. I saw a member pointing at me with his headphones. The human brain is the fastest computer ever made. In a fraction of a second my brain registered the member's pock-marked face, retrieved his name, verified he was not from my party, verified he was not from my caste, verified he did not belong to any minority, instructed my legs to stand and ordered my lungs to explode. I had had enough!

"Would you repeat that, please?", I asked.

"Yeh speaker kisi kaam ka nahi hai!"

"How dare you?", my voice cracking, "You dare to challenge the Speaker of the House? You question my authority? Tere jaise do kaudi ke MP ki mujhe bekaar kehne ki himmat kaise hui!"

I went on for about a minute or two. The MP looked stunned - his gaze oscillating between my fiery eyes and those pathetic headphones he clutched as though they'll save his life.

"Marshals, throw this idiot out right away!"

"But Speaker Sir ..."

"You are expelled from this House at this very ..."

"Sir aap bekaar mein naraaz ..."

"Ab tu mujhe gussa hona sikhayega!"

"Par Sir, mein aapki nahi inki baat kar raha tha. Yeh kaan wale speaker ... woh kya kehte hai .. haan, walkman ... yeh kisi kaam ke nahi hai. Mujhe angrezi aati nahi, aur hindi anuvaad inmein sunayi nahi de raha hai!"

My brain again took just a fraction of a second to assess the situation and give me its appraisal - You blew this one big time, sucker! I had committed the one blunder a politician is not allowed to commit. I had lost my cool. After a hasty apology I adjourned the house for the day.

The incident was of course manna for the damned media. The Punjab Kesri screamed, "Sameer bana toofan". NDTV reported, "The Lok Sabha witnessed unruly scenes today when Shri Kar, the Speaker, turned shrieker and needlessly censured Shri Gir Mahajan Nanda, an MP from Maharashtra. The incident assumes significance amidst increased dissent concerning Kar's autocratic style of functioning. Let us take you over for an exclusive interview with Mr. Nanda ..."

If only I could have strangled these editors!

Happy Independence Day

To friends and foes alike, Jai Hind!

On The Existence of God

Priyendra Deshwal
deshwal [at] stanford [dot] edu

(To appear in the XXXth Annual Cerebral Mines Journal)


ABSTRACT

We demonstrate the existence of God using the well-known principle of Mathematical Induction. While many approaches to answering this most profound question have appeared in literature, our argument, based on a universally accepted mathematical truism, offers a kind of deductive certainity that none of these other methods can provide. Our main contribution lies in irrefutably resolving this centuries old debate in favor of the existential stance.

SECTION I - INTRODUCTION

The existence of God ranks among the most vexing questions the human race has attempted to answer. A number of approaches have been put forward which purport to settle the question. Section II begins with a brief review of previous work in the area and pinpoints the shortcomings of some significant attempts to answer the question. Section III details the inductive proof we propose. Section IV concludes by presenting a few noteworthy points.

SECTION II - RELATED WORK

The most oft-cited arguments for the existence of God are the Cosmological and Ontological arguments. As we shall see, both of these are based on imperfect logical reasoning which leaves their conclusions open to serious challenge.

SECTION II(a) - THE COSMOLOGICAL ARGUMENT

A commonly stated version of the argument is as follows:

(1) Everything that exists has a cause of its existence.
(2) The universe exists.
Therefore:
(3) The universe has a cause of its existence.
(4) Nothing can cause itself to exist
Therefore,
(5) A being exterior to the universe caused it to exist
(6) Such a being can aptly be called the Creator or God
Therefore:
(7) God exists.

The argument is easily breached by the obvious follow-up question of what caused the existence of God. If we were to assume that God is a "caused" being, then clearly the argument serves no purpose as it settles one problem, the cause of the existence of the universe, but raises another problem, the cause of the existence of God. On the other hand, if God were to be an "uncaused" being, it would stand in direct violation of Premise (1) used in the proof. Therefore, the argument is unsound.

SECTION II(b) - THE ONTOLOGICAL ARGUMENT

The Ontological argument however, proves to be a much worthier opponent. One of the several forms of the argument is presented below:

(1) God is greater than anything that can be imagined.
(2) God exists as an idea in the mind.
(3) All other things being equal, a being that exists as an idea in the mind and also in reality is greater than a being that exists only as an idea in the mind.
(4) Assume that God exists only as an idea in the mind
(5) Then we can imagine a being greater than God (namely, a being which is equal in all respects to God, but which has the additional quality of existence in reality)
(6) The conclusions of STEP (5) and STEP (1) contradict
Therefore,
(7) Our assumption is wrong and God must exist in reality as well

This argument too has a fallacy, though subtly hidden. Kant was the first to point out its flaws when he noted that while using the existence of beings as a criteria for ordering them according to their greatness, the argument implicitly assumes that existence is a property of the beings. According to Kant, existence is not a property that a being can either possess or lack. When one asserts that God exists, he is not saying that there is a God and he possesses the property of existence. If that were the case, then when one wishes to assert that God does not exist one would say that there is a God and he lacks the property of existence, or in other words, the existence of God would be both affirmed and denied by the same assertion! This again leads us to a contradiction, proving that the Ontological Argument is also invalid.

SECTION III - THE INDUCTIVE ARGUMENT

Most arguments concerning the existence of God fall apart as they are primarily based on premises (explicit or implicit) that are either debatable or downright invalid. Our approach was to base our proofs on a premise whose truth was inviolable. The principle of Mathematical Induction is a universally accepted truism and as we shall shortly see, our argument derives the existence of God directly from the validity of the mathematical principle.

Theorem: God exists

Assumption: God is the master of the universe

Proof: We shall derive the result by induction on B_U, the number of beings in our universe.

Basis: B_U = 1
If the universe has exactly one being, then the universe could truly be said to belong to that being. In other words, the being would then be the master of the universe. Therefore, by our assumption, the being would be God. Hence, God exists

Inductive Step: Assume for B_U = n, God exists i.e. in a universe with exactly n beings, God exists. Now consider a universe with B_U = (n + 1). Clearly, for there to be (n + 1) beings, there must have been an earlier point in time, when there were just n beings and the (n + 1)th being was being born. Since in such a universe, B_U = n, God must exist. Now the birth of a new being cannot by itself be a cause for the death of another being - except of course, in unfortunate cases when a pregnant mother dies due to complications arising out of childbirth. So we have the following three cases:

(CASE A) The birth had no complications
Clearly, since no one died as a result of the birth, if God existed earlier, God must exist now too. Hence, God exists.
(CASE B) The mother dies and she was not God
Clearly, since the mother was not God and no other being died as a result of the birth, if a God existed earlier, it must exist now too. Hence, God exists.
(CASE C) The mother dies and she was God
In such a case, the new being is the child of God and hence, he can rightfully be called God himself. Hence, God exists.

(Q. E. D)

SECTION IV - CONCLUSION
In conclusion, we note the following:

(1) That God's existence has been established as a fact serves as a reminder to all atheists (Aldous Huxley included) that their posteriors shall soon be subjected to intense thermal treatment over the fires of Hell.
(2) The truth about God's existence also brings to attention claims by a certain friend of mine who says he is God himself. (Yep, that's you Asim!)
(3) The questions about God's sex and about the plurality vs. singularity of God are in no way resolved by the above argument or its straight-forward extensions. It is our intention to expand our mathematical framework to deal with these questions next.

----

India's darkest days

Whenever I read about events in India in the late eighties and the early nineties, I am convinced that those were the worst times India has witnessed ever since we gained independence. Given the number of grave problems our country faced, it is nothing short of a miracle that not only did we survive intact, we went on to become one of the world's rising economic stars! This post is intended as a reminder of the tough times we came through - a reminder that at times we must pause to pat our backs for our collective achievements rather than just pointing fingers for whatever faults still remain.

Perhaps it all began with Indira Gandhi's assasination. She had ruled India for more than a decade with an iron hand. Her toughness was legendary, as was her talent for checkmating potential political challengers. Whatever be the goods and bads of her reign, one significant outcome of her over-arching dominance was that there was no leader capable enough to fill up the political vaccum created by her death. Consequently, the country's reins had to be handed over to Rajiv Gandhi who could at best be called a political amateur. Then followed prime ministers VP Singh and Chandrashekar who were also widely percieved to be weak-minded leaders. Such weakness and instability no doubt hampered our ability to respond to crises and emboldened India's enemies to launch attacks against us.

Another most unfortunate side-effect of Indira's assasination were the anti-Sikh riots that followed. Over the centuries, the brave Sikhs have time and again fought off invaders at India's western borders. Inspite of being a relatively small minority, they comprised a significant percentage of the Indian army. A fourth of the sixteen Param Vir Chakras awarded before '84 had been won by Sikhs. Not only as soldiers, Sikh and other Punjabi farmers contributed a handsome amount to India's GDP (Punjab was and is India's richest state). As a nation, we owe so much to the Sikhs. And instead of being grateful, we hunted them down like rabbits! Rajiv Gandhi, in his infamous words, justified the killings saying, "When a mighty tree falls, the earth around is bound to shake". Such insensitivity must have only added fuel to the fires of alienation and disenchantement that the ISI had sparked among the Sikhs. Punjab burned for years thereafter.

In 1986-87 came another tremendous blow to national security when Pakistan covertly turned nuclear. Rajiv Gandhi's advisors advised him to remind Pakistan of our conventional superiority by showcasing India's military might in an army exercise named Operation Brass Tacks. The exercise was held in Rajasthan, a few hundred kilometers from the India-Pak border, deployed 400,000 troops, was bigger than any NATO exercise ever and everything about it smacked of preparation for a future strike into Pakistan. In short, it was a mistake! Pakistan called India's bluff and isssued thinly veiled nuclear threats aimed at us. The tension reached unbearable levels and it was only after a hastily-arranged visit by General Zia-ul-Haq (purportedly for watching a cricket match!) that all-out war was averted. But the subcontinent's nuclear threshold was lowered for all time to come.

Come 1989 and two other major problems were waiting to pounce on a hapless India. Pakistan initiated the insurgency in Kashmir around that time. The first two three years of the Kashmir insurgency saw a brutal and violent campaign of ethnic cleansing in the Kashmir valley when some 600,000 Kashmiri Hindus were forced to flee from their homeland. Such was the scale of the violence in Jammu and Kashmir that President's Rule had to be imposed and the Army deployed to control the situation. The second problem was the youth protests against the Mandal Commission Report which recommended granting reservations to OBCs. Many students found their future jobs snatched away overnight and a number of them took to the streets. Some of them even undertook extreme steps like self-immolation. The youth of a nation is what drives it forward, and India's youth had lost all faith in the system and sat hopelessly dejected.

There was more to come. In 1991 India was plunged into its worst ever financial crisis. Our forex reserves fell below the critical billion dollar mark and the country was dangerously close to becoming bankrupt. While the crisis was precipitated by the rising oil prices during the Gulf War and lack of investor confidence given India's gloomy overall scenario, its roots lay in the faulty economic policies practised over the years by the previous Congress governments. (To the Congress' credit however, it later almost single-handedly lifted India out of its economic morass)

And then there was Ayodhya. Hindus and Muslims clashed in late '92 over the demolition of the Babri Masjid. Widespread riots ensued and left thousands dead. Mutual hatred between Hindus and Muslims peaked to insane levels and the country's population was hopelessly polarized along communal lines. The ISI also played its role to perfection and engineered the worst-ever terrorist attack on Indian soil - the Bombay blasts of 1993, to take revenge for the demolition of the mosque. Almost 250 people were killed within a span of hours and many more injured.

So there you have the full picture. A country caught between two potentially nation-breaking insurgencies, led by ineffective leaders, bordered by a malicious neighbor with an itchy nuclear finger, poor financial conditions, a disenchanted youth and widespread communal tension. A recipe for disaster isn't it? No sir! We overcame most of the troubles that came our way.

Today, Punjab is happily integrated with the rest of India. True, many Sikhs still bear huge suspicions - but would you fault them after what happened in '84?

Today, the situation in Kashmir is as close to normal as I ever recall. We have an elected government in place, tourism is picking up, filmmakers are returning. Even the notorious Special Operations Group which was commissioned to crush the insurgency in Kashmir has been disbanded. Though much still needs to be done to redress the wrongs committed against the Kashmiri Hindus, we can draw solace from the fact that atleast the level of violence in the state has come down markedly.

Today, the Indian economy is booming. Far from being disenchanted, our youth today are excited at the opportunities around them. People all over the world are beginning to get curious about cities like Bangalore and Hyderabad. Public statements nothwithstanding, no finance minister since Dr. Manmohan Singh has reversed the historic course of reforms Dr. Singh initiated. Our forex reserves stood at $118 billion the last time I checked. Our currency is strong. We successfully weathered the Asian meltdown of the late nineties.

In short, today, our country is stronger than it ever was in the last two decades. And we accomplished this in the face of an incessant stream of problems that mercilessly pounded India and its people. As an Indian, this makes me immensely proud. And more than that, this makes me immensely optimistic that given time, we shall overcome the seemingly insurmountable problems of today and become the greatest nation of tomorrow.

Jai Hind!

A beautiful mind!

A man walks into a bank in New York City and asks for the loan officer. He tells the loan officer that he is going on a business trip for two weeks and needs to borrow $5,000. The bank officer tells him that the bank will need some form of security for the loan, so the man hands over the keys to a new Ferrari parked on the street in front of the bank. He produces the title and everything checks out. The loan officer agrees to accept the car as collateral for the loan. The bank's president and its officers all enjoy a good laugh at the man for using a $250,000 Ferrari as collateral against a $5,000 loan. An employee of the bank then drives the Ferrari into the bank's underground garage and parks it there. Two weeks later, the man returns, repays the $5,000 and the interest, which comes to $15.41. The loan officer says, "Sir, we are very happy to have had your business, and this transaction has worked out very nicely, but we are a little puzzled. While you were away, we checked you out and found that you are a multi-millionaire. What puzzles us is, why would you bother to borrow $5,000'"

The man replies: "Where else in New York City can I park my car for two weeks for only $15.41 and expect it to be there when I return'"

Now this is funny!

In a recent interview, Salman Khursheed was asked about Congress' prospects in the 2006 Assembly elections in West Bengal. When he appeared quite upbeat, he was asked the following question:

Q. Why will people dethrone the Left Front when it is supporting you at the Centre?
A. Because the Congress will provide stable governance.

Someody should tell this guy that my becoming India's next prime minister is a safer bet than the Congress providing a more stable government than the Left.

Nothing to hide

During World War II, Winston Churchill, desperate for the support of American forces, went to the US to meet President Roosevelt. The president opened the door of Churchill’s hotel room without knocking, only to find Churchill standing naked. Roosevelt withdrew apologising profusely, to which Churchill said, “Never mind, the prime minister of Great Britain has nothing to hide from the president of the USA.”

(Taken from the Hindustan Times)

Of likes and dislikes!

Ten months in America and I am convinced that most people in this country can be classified into three broad categories - the normal people, the like-minded people and the desis. Now normal, by its very meaning, doesn't need elaboration. Normal people are those who are ... umm how to say this - well they are the ones who seem the most normal guys around! And I won't waste your time ranting about desis because in all probability, if you are reading my blog, you yourself are one. So this post shall honor the hitherto unsung class - the class of the like-minded!

But before I start, I'd like to add a note of appreciation for the many many other communities that had lobbied over the past few days to get listed in this post. Just yesterday, I received this email signed by over twenty-three hundred people, who claimed they belong to a separate group. They say, and I quote, "Our unique identity derives from the fact that all of us have had our tonsils removed." Other claims included a solicitation from the Possessive and Obsessive American Mothers Association. Now while these people indeed represent legitimate communities, they must understand that my principled political position over the years has consistently hovered around twelve degrees left of the centre-rightist point of view. And no sane minded person who shares my beliefs, would ever classify people by the presence or absence of tonsils! So much for others, on to the like-minded now ...

My first introduction to like-minded people was rather accidental. While on a trip, I was in this terrible hurry to go visit the Cathedral of St. Bazooka. But as my trip was rather hastily planned, I did not have clear directions to the place. So when I saw this guy practicing baseball swings, I went up and asked, "Hiya! You know of the Bazooka's Cathedral?"

Whooshh! The bat swung, missing my nose by a not more than two inches.

"Oh! Ya mean da big church?"

Bigger than what? I wanted to ask, but one look at his bat and better sense prevailed. "Yeah, the big one!", I replied. After all who'd ever heard of a tiny church! More to the point, who'd ever heard of a tiny church named after Bazooka!!

He began, "Well, if you'd ask me", clearly oblivious of the fact that I had already done so, "my guess would be ... ummm lets see. So if you like travel down this road, turn left and move like a hundred paces or somethin' you get to the Main Square. Take the street that's like a li'l to the left of the theatre there. Keep goin' till you like hit the end, go right and walk down the footway until you come against a chapel."

"And is that the Bazooka's Cathedral?"

"Oh no man no! Bazooka's like da big church here. This place I got you to is a pretty small one, but Father Freddy's like the coolest man in the galaxy and he'll tell you how to reach da big church."

"Ah! So you don't know the way to er.. da big church?"

"No man no, I don't. But Father Freddy sure does ... I'd bet my ass he'll get you going on like the coolest possible route to Bazooka's."

I stood silenced. Seven "like"s and I still had no idea of how to reach the place! Ladies and gentlemen, this guy was the first person whom I could positively identify as like-minded.

Let me give a few traits of the people in this category. Like-minded people are characterized by their divine ability to insert the word like into the most unseemly grammatical contexts and still carry off their speech with elan. Though extensive studies are yet to be performed, preliminary analyses suggest a clear and positive correlation of like-mindedness with a high Yo-coefficient. Other traits include knee-length t-shirts, fluorescent bandanas, beaded hair, pierced nipples and the like!

Did you ever notice a funky sports car churning out 4000 Watts of hip hop? Then surely you must have also noticed the driver inside, frantically bobbing his head majorly off-sync with the beat. Did you notice his lips moving, apparently singing along with the rapper? Ever wondered what he was actually saying? Suppressed under the cacophonous music were his words, "Hey man! If I could like get one chance to like sing this shit, I could be like famous in like two days or somethin'"

Like-minded people can also be identified by their unwavering and uniform hatred for that horrendously curved, desperately grotesque punctuation symbol, otherwise known as the 'comma'. Where normal people like you and me would pause each time Wren and Martin said there should be a comma, like-minded people's hatred for the symbol compels them to replace every occurence of the comma with a like. In simple cases the strategy works fine, but English was not designed to withstand such large scale systematic abuse. So once in a while we have cases when simple sentences like "Me and Jimmy, the neighbor's dog who bit Mary ..." become "Me and Jimmy like the neighbor's dog who bit Mary ...". No wonder there's something about Mary!

And to bring my ungainly blabbering to a graceful end, here's a succint definition of what I feel is to be like-minded: "If you kinda like the word like, and if its like you can't say even three syllables without like popping in between, and if you like dislike the comma as if its the crappiest thing ever, and if you like like this post a lot, then you are one helluva like-minded person!"

A few PJs

Now that The Matrix is the flavor of the moment, here's some PJs I just invented. The answers are immediately after each question, writen in the background color. You can view them by highlighting them using your mouse.

Q: What would have been the film's title if Agent Smith had won and Neo lost?
A: The Matrix Inverse!


Q: What would The Matrix be called had Shakespeare been the writer?
A: The Matrix In-Verse!


Q: How will Dell sell laptops when the machines take over?
A: They'll say, "Our computers come with The Matrix preloaded!"


Q: What would Matrix Revolutions be called if remade in Hindi?
A: Matrix Translations!
(revolution ... rotation ... translation ... in case the point was lost!)

Me's Neo!

My quest to explore my inner self continues. I chanced upon this online test that identifies the character from “The Matrix” whose personality most closely matches yours.

As part of the test, I was asked six (yeah, only six!) questions – each with ten possible answers. Now even a goner like me can tell ya there’ll be 6^10 ways of answering the quiz! And if you exclude the Burly Brawl (remember when Neo fights about a zillion Smiths?), obviously there’s far fewer Matrix characters than number of ways of answering the test. So here’s the deal – there must be a multitude of ways of answering the test which would lead to the same result. Or simply put, there’s a multitude of routes for me to be crowned Neo! Yipee!!

First question: Describe yourself in one word?

I was like … what the f***?? The utter senselessness of the question left me confounded! Wasn't yourself a single word already! How in Apocalyptic Hell do I re-describe it? Is this a trick question? Confused and not knowing what to click, I scanned the choices – frustrating seemed a good option given my current condition and I selected it.

But the torture did not end there. The bloody test-maker had some weird fetish for the word yourself. Up came questions like: "Often, you find yourself questioning _____ ?" & "How confident are you in yourself?" Now, maybe I am abnormal – but NEVER in my life have I seen or heard a word (and that too as simple a word as yourself) question ANYTHING! And for God's sake, of all things, why would I need to repose confidence in a mere word!!

But I was determined. I duly answered the remaining questions - all the time wondering why I always screwed up these personality tests. Upon finishing the test, as I was clicking “Submit”, a rumble of excitement had already started to swell deep inside my stomach. The rumble died down as soon as I had seen the result.

"You are Mr. Rhineheart, from The Matrix. You wear glasses and lecturing people is your hobby."

Now who's this Rhineheart guy? A quick Google search for Rhineheart + Matrix revealed that Rhineheart was actually the name of Neo's boss at the software firm where Neo worked! Okay, so let me see - I am Neo's boss ... and Neo is The One. So what does that make me? Heyyy, I am The Zero! While the mathematician inside me rejoiced at the realization, the rest of me rebelled at the horrible sobriquet I had just earned. Eager to undo the damage ASAP, I decided to take the test again. Result - the manservant in Oracle's house!

I tried again and again and again, but I just couldn't seem to qualify to be Neo! Finally, my patience broke down when that lousy-excuse-for-a-trodden-banana-peel test called me the punk who was with Trinity when she meets Neo for the first time. Gosh - the damned guy had some weird named like Choi or something! Livid in anger, I reacted only as a Computer Scientist could - I decided to brute force the bugger. It had to work! And at the 2171th try, I got my prize which is proudly displayed below for all to see.


You are Neo, from "The Matrix." You
display a perfect fusion of heroism and
compassion.

The end of a dream?

As a child, I got interested in cricket around 1991 when India were playing in Australia for the Benson and Hedges series. The third team was West Indies. I vividly remember the first cricket match I watched. It was a cold December morning when Dad and I sat down to watch India play West Indies. India made a paltry 126 runs with most batsmen falling cheaply. West Indies made a mess of the chase and were nine wickets down with just 113 on the board. The last wicket partnership however added 13 more runs to equal India's tally. Dismayed that India was going to lose, I forlornly waited for the last ball of the over being bowled by a short man with a stock of curly hair. Dad told me that he had already given away five runs in five balls and most probably we shall lose on the next ball itself. He added that if we could get a wicket now, we shall tie or draw the match. Drawing the match seemed an awful lot better than losing - so I prayed fervently and willed the bowler to get a wicket. As the ball was bowled, suddenly everyone around myself and on the field erupted with joy! Not understanding but sensing the mood, I asked "Hum jeet gaye kya?".

"Beta, Sachin just got us a wicket!", was Dad's reply.

And realizing that the match was tied, I rejoiced. Sachin was the first name I knew in cricket. Sachin was the name of the protagonist of my first memorable cricketing moment. And Sachin was the name of my only hero for the next thirteen years!

A day or two after India lost 2-0 in the finals to Australia, Dad asked me during a math lesson to bring all newspaper reports of India's matches and to calculate batting averages for all Indian batsmen. Sachin's was again the highest!

On came the '92 World Cup in which India played quite poorly in most games. But there's one image from the tournament that I shall never forget. I think it was the match against New Zealand in which Sachin was caught in the deep when on a score of 84. Angry and frustrated at having missed a century, he wept on his way back to the pavilion. I remember weeping with him on that day!

My interest in cricket grew in direct proportion to my admiration and love for Sachin's performances on the field. Soon I realized that Sachin was not only India's best player - there were people who dared call him the world's best batsman! My heart swelled with pride. Soon enough, I was watching cricket only so I could see Sachin win.

I doubt if anyone outside my family has given me more reasons and occasions to be happy than Sachin Tendulkar. The memorable last over in the Hero Cup final - the brutal 82 in New Zealand in his first innings as opener - his first ODI century after six remarkable years of international cricket - the thiry-six that have follwed since then - his exploits in the '96 World Cup - the mauling Shane Warne received in '98 - single-handedly winning the tournament in Sharjah - the superhuman 140 against Kenya when just the day before he had cremated his father - the succulent six of Shoaib Akhtar in the last World Cup. These are a few images that flash through my mind when I think of Sachin's career. These are moments I grew up with. And these are moments that make up the dream that began on that wintry December day when Sachin dismissed Andrew Cummins to tie the match.

Unfortunately, I fear that the dream may be coming to an end. The Sachin of today seems to be a pale shadow of the dominating figure he was four years ago. The first major reverse he suffered in his career was the back injury he sustained after Australia toured India. No longer could Sachin pull or drive with abandon as he used to. His back was at a risk while playing any lofted shot, more so with the hooks and the lofted straight drives. Sachin practically deleted the shots from his repertoire and continued tormenting bowlers. A more significant setback was soon to follow. Soon after, he was appointed India's captain for a second time and India performed miserably while he was at the helm. Whatever be the reasons, I feel his failure as India's captain had a tremendous impact on his confidence. He has never been the same again.

True, we are still fortunate enough to see occasional flashes of brilliance. But when I think of Sachin, I do not think of brilliant flashes. Rather, I think of a continuous stream of brilliance that started over a decade ago. He makes enough runs today, but his runs do not give me the kind of happiness they used to. Today when he scores runs, he toils hard like any normal batsman, much different from the child prodigy who used to effortlessly smash bowlers all over the park. The arrogance in his batting has gone and with it has gone the aura of invincibility that surrounded the man.

This post was sparked off because I had this discussion with a friend on whether Sachin was responsible for India's recent defeat in the Asia Cup final. No he wasn't. In fact he was the best Indian batsman on display in the final. While India's loss might be the team's collective fault, Sachin's fault lies elsewhere. I remember a Sachin who would not only win us matches, but win us entire tournaments on his batting prowess alone! In this tournament he got two tailor-made opportunities to bail his team out of trouble (against Pakistan and in the final). Both were crucial matches and in both he was the best Indian batsman on display. And in both India lost. And in both these matches I got the distinct feeling that Sachin cracked under pressure! The man who could win a match alone, now needs a team to support him! Should I be faulted if I think that somewhere along the line, he changed from an out-and-out legend to just a great batsman?

Legend he may still become. But not all cricketing legends are my heroes. My hero was someone who was the world's most attractive, most attacking and most productive batsman - all at the same time. Today his batting is neither as attractive nor as attacking, just productive. Nothing saddens me more than this realization and nothing would make me happier than if Sachin were to regain his old self.