Christmas wish for the newly weds

I really enjoyed watching this video. Hats off to Nippy who found this!

एक प्रिय कवि का अध्ययन

"आपका प्रिय कवि कौन है?"

जब भी यह प्रश्न पूछा जाता है तो असद ज़ैदी का नाम सहज ही ज़ुबान पर आ जाता है।
आज ही उनकी कुछ कविताएं बीबीसी की वेबसाइट पर पढ़ीं। एक उठा कर यहां चिपका ली है।

मेरे ब्लॉग का भाव कुछ तो बढ़ा।

नृतत्त्वशास्त्री
नृतत्त्वशास्त्र! इस काम में दिक़्क़त यह है कि अक्सर लोग इसकी बारीकियों को समझते नहीं. मोटे-मोटे सवाल पूछते और ख़ुलासा करते-करते आम आदमी तंग आ जाता है. आखिर क्यों नृतत्त्वशास्त्र? जवाब में एक रोज़ नाटकीय अंदाज़ में मैंने कहा : माट सहाब, जब तक इस दुनिया में नर और नारी हैं, जब तक नृ और तत्त्व हैं, तब तक शास्त्र रहेगा और शास्त्री लोग भी. पास खड़ी देहातिन बोली : ‘ तो शास्त्री जी, कछु शादी ब्याउ भी कराऔ?’ और अपने टूटे-फूटे दाँत दिखाती हुई हँसने लगी. उसकी ननदसे भी रहा न गया : ‘अरी भौजाई, यो तो खुदई कुँआरे एँ. ये का करांगे शादी-आदी!’ कई लोग सस्वर हँसे थे : हा-हा, हो-हो, हा, हि-ही, हू! तो इस तरह परिहास के बीच चल रहा है अपना काम, फ़ील्ड रिसर्च. लोग मेरा अध्ययन ज़्यादा कर रहे हैं, मैं उनका कम.

आखिर की पंक्ति ही शायद इस कविता के अपहरण का मुख्य कारण है।

रिटर्न टू इनोसेंस?

पहले सोचा कि एक हिंदी का ब्लॉग अलग से लिखूं। Excusively in Hindi। लेकिन हिंदी और अग्रेज़ी का लिखने वाला मैं तो एक ही हूँ। हिंदी बोलना पहले सीखा। पहला प्यार हिंदी है। हालांकि अंग्रेज़ी से भी उतना ही प्यार करता हूँ। और यह स्थिति दो नावों में सवार होने जैसा दुस्साहस बिल्कुल भी नहीं है। After all I Am Plural।

वैसे हिंदी के लिए एक अलग जगह सुरक्षित रखने से यह बहुलता समाप्त तो नहीं होती। बिल्कुल नहीं। आने वाले समय में शायद अलग ब्लॉग बना भी लूँ। Let's see.

हिंदी में लिखने की इच्छा काफी समय से थी। ठीक एक हफ्ते पहले लाल्टू को पहली हिंदी ईमेल लिखी। उसके बाद से हर रोज़ सोचता रहा कि लिखूंगा। और आज इतवार के दिन छुट्टी को भुना रहा हूँ। परिवार के बाकी लोग बाहर दिसंबर की धूप का मज़ा ले रहे हैं। इस पोस्टिंग के बाद थोड़ा समय उनके साथ भी बैठूंगा।

दरअसल हिंदी में लिखने के पीछे एक कारण लाल्टू का ब्लॉग भी है।

दूसरा कारण जो कि शायद पहला कारण है और जो मैं उपर बता भी चुका हूँ वह है हिंदी से प्यार। या शायद तुलनात्मक रूप से हिंदी से थोड़ी अधिक घनिष्ठता। मातृभाषा पंजाबी है। ईश्वर ने चाहा तो कभी पंजाबी में भी ब्लॉग लिखूंगा। पंजाबी में कुछ अनुवाद तो किया है परंतु मुक्त रूप से, अपना कुछ भी नहीं लिखा। हां, कुछ एक चिट्ठियां ज़रूर लिखी हैं। मुझे याद कि जब मेरी सबसे बड़ी बहन अपनी पढ़ाई के लिए लुधियाना में थी तो मैं उसकी अंग्रेज़ी में लिखी चिट्ठियों का जवाब पंजाबी में दिया करता था। मैं शायद पंजाबी में ही अपनी भावनाओं को ईमानदारी से अभिव्यक्त कर पाता था। लेकिन अंग्रेज़ी या हिंदी में बेईमानी है ऐसा कहना सरासर ग़लत होगा। घर में बचपन से पंजाबी ही बोली जाती रही तो मैं चिट्ठियां किसी और ज़बान में कैसे लिखता। गैर-हिंदी भाषी, गैर-भारतीय मित्रों के साथ अंग्रेज़ी बोलते हुए भी बहुत निकट अनुभव करता रहा हूँ।

तेरह-चौदह साल कि उम्र में अपने एक बहुत ही करीबी दोस्त को हिंदी में ढेरों चिट्ठियां लिखीं। आज भी कई बार चैटिंग करते हैं तो रोमन हिंदी में ही करते हैं।

अब शायद हिंदी - पंजाबी में लिखने की दिशा में सोचने से अपने बचपन और अपने आप को और अच्छे से समझ पाऊं।

"Bachelors, it's your call now."

Bhartesh wanted to know if I am on Orkut. Of course I am, though I still have to gauge its utility. He said he didn't find me when he made a search. "Your location is Chandigarh, right?" "I guess so." I logged in to see if it was. It was. However, there was one change that was needed to be made in the profile.

In fact I had been wondering how would I declare it here, in the cyber world. But it wasn't much of an issue. Jesse had announced it long before I got the chance to proclaim that I am married. So I am not exactly breaking news in the virtual world. But still ...

Pooja and I got married on September 28, 2006 in a civil ceremony.

As I clicked on the radio-button preceding "Married," I did feel a tinge of nostalgia.

But before you read too much into the signifier let me put on record my two months ten days old experience: "The mystery of marriage far outweighs the brouhaha, the bravado and even the blessings of bachelorhood"

So when you hear it said: "Its not good for man to be alone" Pay heed. That's God speaking!

Nostalgic teacher!

Time: 4:07 PM

The archives of my teaching days in colleges and the university are already beginning to get dusty! Or so I thought until this morning when Bhartesh called me to wish Happy Teacher's Day. The first one to do so. Then as I reached my Bible college and we began the worship, Muskaan's sms came :-)

At 10:30 Pritika called. Besides the felicitations we talked about poetry scene in Bombay and in the North. Then Nishu came out of her self-imposed exile to pamper her haggard pedagogue.

That wasn't all ... Muskaan has sent an e-card with some terrifically flattering lines...

And if you know Muskaan, she wasn't finished yet ... there was a bouquet waiting for me as I went home to lunch. WOW! Chennai and Chandigarh are not exactly twin-cities ... Thanks!!

Akshiptika a former student of mine studying Sociology in JNU sent another lovely sms. She amazes me.

In the Bible college Rashmi Ranjan was the first one to shake hands with me. Isha, Rajkumar and Naveen followed. Anil caught me on the stairs. My collegues Sampath and Aying reaffirmed our collective calling as we wished Happy Teachers day to each other.

Gursheek, my dear friend and a former collegue was the latest one to wish me.

Thank you all!

UPDATE:
Time: 11:51 PM

I reached home at 10:45. There's another bouquet waiting for me. From Bhartesh and guess who ... Muskaan.

The charm of 786

7 August 2006

Many of us remember the number 786 etched on the miraculous insignia that saved Amitabh Bachhan's life in that definitive cinematic achievement called Deewar. The insignia, Billa no. 786, was seen again in Coolie, another Bachhan starrer. When the date reads 7/8/6 something as magical as the movie or as block-busting as the Big B himself is sure to tantalise our appetites for bliss. Bachhan's magic and human penchant for fetish combine to give us a great metaphysical succor. Muslim scholars may continue the debate weather the number itself is authentic, and hence blessed, or not, the population on the subcontinent, Muslim and non-Muslim alike stays mesmerised with the number. There are people, we've heard, who have made it a minor goal of their lives to collect currency notes whose numbers end with 786. Lakshmi bearing the mark of Bismillah is certainly a good omen; paisa, somehow, becomes more permanent. Its purchasing power remains the same but its significance is not in the mundane, material, monetary value. It becomes a spiritual sign.

The charm of the date however is countered by the day; MONDAY. Monday morning blues almost faze out the confidence the date conjures. Mondayne morning versus blessed Bismillah.

Notwithstanding the meanings we ascribe to it, hope this day inspires us to make new, non-mundane beginnings!

Thumbs up! Thumbs down!

There's so much happening within and without, that this blog going mum seems like a deception, a betrayal, almost a character flaw. What calls my attention most frequently these days, however, is something most people would find rather ridiculous: a mosquito bite on the inner left side of my left thumb just below the knuckle; on the top of the second finger bone - the proximal phalange. I often find myself pressing the red bump between my right index finger and right thumb, and then, with their left hand counterparts, just to get a sense of comparison, I feel the right inside of my right thumb. At other times I find myself bringing the two thumbs, the twins separated at birth, together to see how far one is disfigured. It seems that one side is permanently distorted. Sore beyond cure. And when the two are together, left thumb looks like a present being mocked by the right past. Right thumb thumbing its nose at the thumbed pages of left's biography.

Mood Mystique!

In my previous post I added the tag in the end to be contd. Now I am not very inclined to write anymore on that subject. But then it seemed like a promise, not least to myself, that I would write something more. What more can I write?
Not enough provocation ... Later sometime ...
Meanwhile ... here is something I enjoyed recently ...Go ahead and try it :-)

This was supposedly my mood when I did!

Your Mood Ring is Blue-Green

Inner emotions charged Yet, somewhat relaxed

Mood Ring Generator

Kavi: Poetics of Sacred Sex

Da Vinci bandwagon chugs along its final lap. Having begun on a high-speed journey with publication of the novel and refueling at the "illustrated edition" stop it is finally breaking the celluloid speed barrier. Now after this people can't get much out of it; materially speaking that is. However, there are some who still want their joy ride: The thrill of a new ideational capital. And they want it quite seriously.

Ashok Row Kavi is the latest groupie on board.

This morning's HT edit page had his scholarly sounding article (Da Vinci is Da Truth?) which completely endorses Dan Brown's thesis. With such elan he discusses issues surrounding biblical scholarship that for once you think that he's a goldmedalist from a foremost German seminary specialising in higher criticism of New Testament documents and an uncontested authority on Church history.

But just one look at the history of how some Indian intellectuals tackle the biblical scholarship and one can see a deep prejudice and an agenda to tear down biblical faith. That's not what one objects to. In a highly contested arena of textual criticism and historical research one expects heated debates and bruised convictions. Scriptures can be and must be subject to scrutiny. It is the manner in which some Indian scholars exclusively deploy second hand scholarship of clealrly anti-Christian writers of the west, which puts one off. The debate that should be academic in nature turns mere ideological propaganda.

In July 1913, the monthly journal of the Arya Samaj Vedic Magazine made an attack on the Bible based on John Stuart Mill's criticisms. C F Andrews who was a close friend to Samaj's Mahatama Munshi Ram wrote to him that his publication which is a mouth piece of a religious reform movement must refrain from using the "accusations of atheists and agnostics." (Builders of Modern India: Charles Freer Andrew. Benarsidas Chaturvedi and Marjorie Sykes. Govt. of India: New Delhi. 1971. 99.)

In more recent times these kinds of accusations have been made by Indian godmen to woo western converts. Rajnish (or OSHO as he is now called) did that magnificently. Even now one may hear the discourses where covert statements are made deriding biblical narratives.

Arun Shourie uses Thomas Paine to buttress his arguments against the Christian Scriptures, and believes (needless to say mistakenly) that he has found supporters in Hans Kung and Schillebeeckx. (Missionaries in India, Harper Collins: New Delhi. 1997. 211)

Ashok Row Kavi is another in the list of these critics who rely on the outdated (at least 50 years old) and second hand scholarship.

Arya Samaji's continued faithfully the work started by Swami Dayanand Saraswati namely protecting the Arya Dharma, Arun Shourie did his bit to give intellectual credence to BJP's anti-minority stance and Rajnish wished to swell his ranks with white skinned converts, Kavi too has a particular goal to achieve.

As a man on the forefront of sexual revolution in India he needed a partner to knock out "Christian morality." He's gone on record saying that anti-sodomy law in IPC is a legacy of Victorian bias against sexual freedom. West only recognises two genders: man and woman, whereas Indian sacred texts have sanctioned at least ten kinds of sexualities. He admires The Da Vinci Code for its emphasis on female worship, but one must recognize this female worship is not what one finds in a nationalistic text like Bankimchandra's Ananthmath but a validation of religious prostitution, glorifying sexual orgies.

(to be contd.)

Road, Numbers and Silly Games.

I have this habit of observing number plates of the vehicles as I drive. This gives me an illusion of doing an intelligent thing. I'll tell you how. As I look at the four digit numbers I do a calculation which can be presented in a statement. E.g. I see this scooter going in front of me. The number is, say, CH01 A 3321. My mind changes gear. "The sum of extreme two terms and the sum of middle two terms are consecutive numbers." :-)

Extreme two terms 3 & 1. 3+1=4
Middle two terms 3&2. 3+2=5

4 & 5 are consecutive numbers.

Another example. The number is PB10 C 6537.

The statements (in fact more then one statements!):

1. The difference between alternate digits are consecutive numbers (6-3 = 3, 7-5=2)
2. The difference between extreme two terms and middle two terms are consecutive numbers (7-6=1, 5-3=2)

Can I indulge and give one more? (I choose these numbers randomly)
UP80 AB 5845

The statements:

1. The difference between first two terms and the second two terms are consecutive odd numbers
2. The sum of extreme two terms and middle two terms are consecutive even numbers.
3. The sum of alternate terms are alternate odd numbers.

Well, isn't this is a classic example of bending facts to fit in your frame of interpretation? Some poststructuralist and the nihilists would find vindication here. Nietzsche is said to have made that amazing statement "There are no facts only interpretations."

But obviously there are problems. You can't play it to your advantage all the time. What do I do with a number like CH03 A 0025?

Easy way out: "The product of extreme two terms and middle two terms is same"
0x5 = 0x2 = 0
But that's not exciting. Even in a silly game like this this is unacceptable. Sheer escapism.

More circumventing statement.

• The sums of alternate terms are alternate prime numbers!

Well this was manageable too!

Ok let me think of another number.

HP02 A 8830

I am sure I can make some intelligent statement out of this too. But then I reach my destination. And in any case, if I overdo this, it will become boring and perhaps I would not want to be on the roads ever again!

I would like to post a number I could not make a statement out of.

Oh! by the way, this game has a rule. Arbitrary of course. You have to take numbers in pairs.

I wonder if this is sign of a pathological, prodigious or just a puffed up mind!

Anyway for the last number the statement is - "The quotient of first two digits and sum of second two digits make consecutive odd numbers."

Horrors of this day!

This morning I was awakened to the insidiousness of June 6, 2006 by a mail. A friend of mine had sent the story she has done for the IANS, recounting the rumours and popular perception about what this date signify.

Removing the zeroes and separaters (/,-,.) 06/06/06/ reads 666. Now the biblical reference to the number has demonic underpinnings. This is a mark of the devil.

I went to the cabin of the principal of my Bible College and asked him what was his take on this. Reclining back on his chair (he covers the entire length of his cabin when he does that with his hands folded behind his head) he said, "I have no take on it" and added "In these matters I'm a scientist."

I came back to my corner to muse on it. But before long I was back in his cabin, and this time we got into talking the serious issues of interpreting apocalyptic literature in the Bible. In fact after I returned to my cabin Nick, my principal came to my cabin and we continued talking about the related issues. The technical nature of the info that I got cannot be repeated here (as quite a bit went over my head too), but let me write what I think of 06 June 2006 AD .

The superstitious would exaggerate mysterious appearance of any phenomenon; making it extremely evil or extremely ecstatic. The rest of us can carry on our daily vocations encountering simple joys and manageable tragedies, knowing that AD means Year of the Lord.

He's got this day in His hands!

(The story is on http://www.ians.in/ titled On Tuesday, Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobics beware! However it is open only to the subscribers)

By the way, my mentor had 666 as the first three digits of his phone number. What effect has that had on our conversations? I wonder!

On The Da Vinci Code. Finally

Despite Christians constituting barely 1.5 percent of the country's population and frequently being targets of radicals, Pakistan has banned the controversial movie "The Da Vinci Code". This is strap of the story on MSN India today, a follow-up of another story that appeared on the same website a few days back.

After what the so-called Christian countries did with the cartoons of the Prophet this is quite amusing, especially when Bahawalpurs also happen in same Pakistan.

Our South-Asia is such a fascinating place to be in. Idiotic and illuminating. Like a love story.

Well this post began with a mention of The Da Vinci Code, and that's what I want to talk about. I have resisted writing anything about it since I came across the novel a year or so back. I read it from cover to cover, notwithstanding its limited literary merit. Initially I wished to enter the debate and try to defend the position which has come to be called Orthodox Christian Faith, but then, first, I was advised by some mature believers not to waste my time on this. It is just another pop phenomenon which will run out of steam as soon as it gathers some, and second, I realised that since the age of rational discourse is well past the attempt to begin one will not avail much. Thirdly, I knew if I would try to defend the canonical Gospels I would be dismissed as one from interested party.

Hence like rest of the people I waited for the secular writer/scholars to give their opinion. Of course Abraham Lincon's adage is true. You can't fool all the people all the time.

So when Meera Nanda, the scientist came to Panjab University and lambasted organised religion, she pointed out that west can be as irrational as east in matters of religion. One excited journo, who was evidently gripped by the DVC syndrome, jumped up, "Yeah! look how Da Vinci Code has to say." Nanda was crestfallen like a music teacher whose best student was singing off key. She said in no uncertain terms that the book is a hoax, a work of fiction. She was agitated with people messing up facts; scientific or religious.

The flip side of the coin. A previous vice-chairperson of the Knowledge Commission, Pushpa Bhargava, wrote early this year in The Tribune, something to the effect that Dan Brown is a real historian! (Sins of the Clergy Jan 2,2006. Sunday edition).

Another twist. Vir Sanghvi in Brunch, the HT Sunday magazine (sorry the story is not online) in his column summarizes the story of DVC and gives his view (hope I don't get into copyright problems to having quoted him so profusely!) :

If you have been on planet Mars for the last three years or so, here's what Brown claims: he argues that Jesus married Mary Magdalene, who fled to France after the crucufixion and that they had a daughter, Sarah. The Church decided,around the fifth century or so, that Jesus was not to be regarded as a mere mortal with earthly desires, a wife and a child but was to be treated as the Son of God. So it suppressed all evidence of the marriage and of the child.

However, a sect called the Knights Templer knew the truth and preserved Jesus' bloodline (Sarah went on to have children of her own). The Knight Templers were replaced by a shadowy society called the Priory of Sion ... The Church killed as many members of the Priory as it could find and that trend continues to this day ... The Grail was never a cup but was a reference to Mary Magdalene's womb.

All this is quite fascinating - but it is also rubbish. The Grail stories have no place in the Christian literature of that period and emerged only in medieval times as mythological tales. The story about the Priory has been traced to a 20th century hoax by a Frenchman who confessed all before he died.

I think I should stop here. There are couple of things that I still have to say but perhaps next time. But before I publish post, a disclaimer :-)

This is not about using the authority of secular writers/scholars to validate matters of faith. Though I respect these writers the testimony of the biblical scholars is certainly preferable.

Ironies of the protest!

So the agitating doctors have started returning to their wards. Patients and their families must be so relieved. Hopefully these medicos would concentrate on job at hand now.

Some of the images linger in my mind:

One protestor got this written on the back of his T-shirt: "I am sacrificing my today for a better tomorrow." Sadly he had a narrow vision for a tomorrow which can only worsen the conditions. Better tomorrow cannot be built on the obscurantist vision about the past. India has been a deeply oppressive society, if the experience of the backward castes is anything to go by.

Another one had a picture of Bhagat Singh drawn on his. Now Bhagat Singh, the Marxist revolutionary, if alive today, would definitely not be sitting with the anti-reservation band, especially when these protestors have a backing of capitalist business houses. Here is a story in which a Brahmin doctor is heading pro-reservation lobby and alleges that the opposing stir is sponsered by the corporate houses.

Is Shiv Khera part of the package? Unwittingly or otherwise, he is. Khera who in typical fashion of self-help gurus helps people to discover and actualise potential within, utterly fails to see that caste is all about broken spirits, demolished self-esteems which need not just his pep-talks but a robust framework of social upliftment programme.

And then there is Navjot Sidhu, who has gone to show his support for the anti-quota agitators, thus betraying his party's caste-character. This may well be the worst PJ that he ever cracked.

To lift or not to lift

On my way back from college yesterday evening I saw this very old man on the road asking for a lift. The guy on scooter in front of me wanted to stop but by the time he pulled over (it was a busy hour) he had already gone very far, so he again sped up and left. Now the old man waved at me. I had a moment of hesitation; I have never given lift to anyone. And by the time I decided to oblige him I myself had gone quite a distance and turning back in that traffic was unthinkable. I continued driving.

I wish I had pulled over immediately.

Getting nostalgic about Eliot's "Prufrock"

In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse

By the way that's not all!

Today as I drove back from sector 22 and reached the T-point from where I was to take right to come home, I had to stop at the traffic signal. As I slowed down another old man, though not as old as the one I mentioned above, walked upto me and asked for a lift till the traffic lights in sector 17. I told him that I wasn't going that way and would take a left from the round-about to go to 15. He said, "Today you can take a different route to 15." I was a bit surprised by his audacity. Anyway, I said, Ok, come. As soon as he ensconsed himself next to me he said,"Why aren't you running the AC?" Now I was zapped. I said, "It seems you have walked a lot today, had a strenous day." I still hadn't switched on the AC. I was trying to hint that such a demand is not very polite. "No it's just too hot today," he said,"I went to these small shops in 22, they are so suffocating." And in the same breath he said, "Aren't you putting the AC on?" When he mentioned it the second time I was actually amused. So guess what? I did put the AC on for him. As I drove him upto the traffic lights I was wondering if he would ask for any more favour. He didn't and got down at the lights.

Morals of the story:

1. Your indecision almost always confounds you.
2. When someone else makes a decision for you it may not be that bothersome after all.

(PS: Morals to this story are tentative and are subject to change)

Taking a slip on the slip road

Out of all the confessions that I have to make the one about my poor driving skills is the least mortifying. So let me tell you what soup did I get into this evening. I had been to the St. Stephens School to arrange for something for tomorrow (SDC begins tomorrow!). I had parked my car on the side road, the one marked as the cycle track. So when we were done, I drove down this track. I took a left turn and suddenly my car took a jolt. I had gone over the embankment. As I tried to manoeuver my car out of that bother, I heard the chassis making an uneasy grating sound. Oops! I got down just to see the front left tyre deflating right in front my eyes. It seemed that the car was whistling as it settled fixedly on the pavement like an obstinate animal.

This was enough to totally unsettle me. I could sense people gloating around me. Aur chala gaadi cycle track par. Ab kharha reh yahan par. Hee hee hee!

I immediately called Joel, who had left just ahead of me. He said he would come back. Meanwhile I steal a glance at the people around, seeking some kind of sympathy. I see the man on the other side of the road selling cigarette, bidi and such stuff glaring back at me. What did he think of me?

Two guys went past me, looking at the car. I thought they were jeering but they weren't. In fact as they went across the length of my car, they turned and told me to get someone to fix the punctured tyre. It felt nice to have someone make an effort to help. In their haryanvi accent they guided me to the place where I could look for someone.

I got hold of this young chap, who quickly finished his cup of tea and came along with a spanner.

Joel had arrived by then. He looked around my car and did the talking with the young rescuer that I had brought. As I stood flummoxed there wondering how I managed to do this, my tiny helper suggested we should get a crane!! Or let's put a stone under the rear tyre reclining on the pavement and try to take the car over, he further advised. Joel asked him to get some people so that we could actually lift the car and put it on side. The boy went on the other side towards where that cigarettewalla was sitting. Meanwhile few people had gathered around my car. And before long I found that Joel and these five guys were lifting the front of the car and moving it. Then they moved towards the rear of the car and moved it completely. Wow!

Out of the four the two went on their immediately. I shouted 'thank you!' and one of them turned to wave at me. The other two guys kept standing there. Both Sikhs. They had struck a conversation with Joel as I oversaw that young resourceful rescuer of mine changing the tyre. I paid him and offered those guys some fruit juice there but they already had had. In fact its only while having it that they spotted me and came over.

Joel told me where to get the tyre fixed and we parted ways.

One silly thing. As soon as I heard the impact my car made and I decided to came down to look I took off my gaudy sunglasses (the only sign of my vanity). Why did I do that? Is there a relationship between a show of austerity and a crisis? I think I just got very self-conscious.

Summer Day Camp

For the next one week my mornings are going to be pretty hectic. Well for this Children's Camp, I have to report at 8:20 am! 8:20 guys is no joke. I hope I am not dazed through the whole camp. I hope my cast (I am incharge for the daily two-part drama) will be alert at least. These guys have been working really hard.

Prashant who plays the scientist Doc is a Colonel in the Indian Army. On a sabbatical for sometime he has very graciously agreed to participate in the play. He says that this is his way of saying thank-you to the Chandigarh Bible Fellowship for providing Sunday School to his eight-year old son Sam. Prashant is a busy man. Carrying his briefcase he moves about in the inimitable flourish of an army man. An avid follower of the stock market, he is taking this time to fulfil filial duties: taking care of his mother, looking after the houses, dropping and picking the son from the school, an occasional outstation visit. Phew! Lots of appointments to keep. His lunches are all pre-arranged. And then he takes time to memorise and rehearse. Jai Hind to this firm commitment.

Talking about commitment you have Mayuri (I almost wrote Basanti). She plays Casey, the detective. Casey ho! this is how I greet her. Mayuri not only has a major role in the drama she is also incharge of the singing. So while most of are struggling with our one engagement she is hitting two birds with hardly any stone (complaint). And by the way she has a professional job to do as well. She is a postgraduate in psychology and is currently working as a counsellor. She loves reading Max Lucado's books and presently is interested in knowing how was the Bible compiled. Word of God or words of men!

Then we have Ravi. He comes from Ambala to rehearse almost everyday. (And you thought the great stories of commitment are over!) However, right now he has gone to Delhi for his admission in a post-graduate management course. He plays Ried, the adventurer. He recently got a new pup. A golden retriever, I guess. They already have one at home. Two years old. Ravi once told me that his dog understands French. (Aside: Is the French world going to dogs?). He also coaches the football team of his school in Ambala.

Blade, the superhero is played by Ashwin. The young associate pastor of the CBF has the most comic role. Preparing for the play he has already delivered two sermons and it seems he is going to speak on the Sunday after the summer camp as well. He thought after 21 he will be free to concentrate on the play memorizing the lines and all, but there is no let off in sight. He sure is the upcoming superhero for the CBF; sermons and summer day camps all piled up on his fresh SAIACS-graduate shoulders. Yesterday he told me that he made his own breakfast. Tried to cook the ommlette without using oil! And of course then it would not come off from the pan. Finally when he did succeed in scraping it off, the ommlette (or whatever was left of it) indicated that salt of the earth was used rather abundantly. Super effort.

The other two cast members working from behind the stage would be Abby and Dia. They are going to manage the puppet, Bubbly (FKA Becky). The only thing I knew about these two girls was their craze for the Harry Potter books. But I am impressed with their felicity with the job at hand.

Ravi, Ashwin and I are going to manage rest of the puppets.

For the puppets, more then the voice we need to work on our arms. Aaaah! it hurts man! Holding the puppet for so long.

Gita Updesh

Know that in all cases
whatever in existence is
powerful, glorious, and beautiful
issues from but
a spark of my splendour
(Ch. 9 Text 41)

I received this most beautiful and very portable copy of the Bhagvad Gita from a sparkling light of His splendour. The first thing that we read together appears as the epigraph of this posting.

This initiates me into the choir of the Song Divine.

I had bought a copy of the Gita many years ago, never got down to reading it though and then someone borrowed it never to return. A couple of years ago I borrowed another copy - of the same kind that I had bought - from Joel (wow, he appears second time in my blog on a single day) but again somehow wasn't able to read it consistently.

Now with this extremely handy copy (measurement in cm: 6 x 4.5 x 2.25) I am sure I can read it fairly regularly

My mind goes to Paul who exhorts us to concentrate on the poweful, glorious and beautiful in Philippians 4:8

Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honorable, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

Statements of Faith

I don't quite remember what set me and Joel talking about the statements of faith the other day. He was explaining his problem with such assertions. These statements are meant to define what you believe in. But in reality what they achieve is they define boundaries; deployed to keep the "other" out. This has been part of the western religious experience and tradition where one Christian denomination had to rigourously distinguish itself from the other. The statements of faith were meant to provide a uniform identity to the adherents of a particular religious group. They were to select friends and foes by replaying these statements in their mind.

Historically speaking this was an exercise in community building which responded to the needs of burgeoning democarcy. Like rise of nations in the west in post-Renaissance period the religious denominations also had to develop secure borders.

In the world where definitions of democracy and nation are being rewritten there is a need to revise the rationale of statements of faith.

In the pluralist world in general and in India in particular Christians have to be wary of such heavily westernised concept of "statement of faith."

My mind goes back to Brahmbandhab Upadhyay, the dynamic intellectual and a Christian theologian in Bengal, the editor of journals and later a nationalist revolutionary who was disowned by the Church in early 20th century. Upadhyay instead of confining himself in the historically conditioned statements, took a bold step, a heroic decision to call himself a Hindu Catholic, instead of a Roman Catholic.

Indian spirituality is embracing. However this is not to say that everything goes here in India. The sharp debates in the Indian intellectual history between Sankara, Ramanujan and Madhva give an example that debating and clarification of postions is an important ingredient of Indian tradition.

Upadhyay carries on that tradition.

The dynamic process of "exclusion and embrace" (a term courtesy Miroslav Volf) will give regenerative impetus to our communitarian journeys. The fossilized statements of faith can impede the progress.

Kierkegaard's birthday & Marx's

Since yesterday I had been feeling that there is something special about 5th May. But what? I wasn't able to recollect. I had a vague feeling that perhaps it's a birthday of a childhood friend, long forgotten but whom I have been longing to meet.

It's Soren Kierkegaard's birthday today. Born in 1813 AD.

I remembered that last year I remembered him by reading two short pieces about him written by W H Auden.

This year I decide to approach him more directly.

To begin with I read the "Preface" and "Prelude" to his Fear and Trembling.

The preface is a little gem about issues of faith and doubt. Here he calls attention to the fact that Descartes has been so grossly misused by the subsequent doubters. He reached a particular position after a strenuous exercise in honest thinking. The contemporary doubter, on the other hand, doesn't struggle with issues of knowing or having faith but, in fact begins with doubt.

Descartes - the rationalist par excellence, Kierkegaard says, arouses "deepest emotion," primarily because he was a "quiet and solitary thinker, not a bellowing night-watchman." In Kierkegaardian estimation that seems to mean that Descartes was finding his own way in the labyrinth of philosophical thinking upto his time. He did not intend this to become an easily aquired public attitude.

"Dexterity in doubting" is cultivated over a long period of time. Like the way it happened with Descartes, who maintained "equilibrium of doubt" and never became a nihilist or a hedonist.

When people invoke Descartes to justify their scepticism, they are doing something that Descartes never did. They begin from where Descartes arrived.

And he further says tha just like dexterity in doubting is not acquired in a few days or weeks, "dexterity in faith" is a "task for a whole life time".

Descartes, he says, never wanted to "make it a duty for everyone to doubt." He needed to use this particular method for himself because it "was justified in part by the bungled knowledge of his earlier years."

I need to reflect on these issues (faith, reason, doubt) which pertain to my new vocation Kierkegaard, I hope becomes a good sparring partner. By the way some of his insights compel me to say that he is a most contemporary writer with a piercing sense of irony. His diagnosis of modern condition does not leave out the postmodern enigmas.

It is Karl Marx's birthday too. Born in 1818 AD.
An estranged friend of fiery youthful days.
Must get back to him too.

Daily News and Brother Lawrence

• In Baroda a 2000 strong mob burn a man alive in his car.
• Terrorists kill 22 innocent people in Jammu & Kashmir.
• Pramod Mahajan's condition grows worse.
• Suryanarayan beheaded by barbarians.

Man against man.

Not to mention, man against woman.
Woman against man.

Explosions of hatred.
Implosions of guilt.

Mankind stands condemned.

In the melee of debilitating images, the memory of Brother Lawrence:

"He said that as far as the miseries and sins he heard of daily in the world, he was so far from wondering at them, that, on the contrary, he was surprised there were not more considering the malice sinners were capable of. For his part, he prayed for them. But knowing that God could remedy the mischief they did when He pleased, he gave himself no further trouble."

I take lead from him. Trusting in goodness of God is the first step towards a postive action to bring change in the life of the nation and the society.

Karl Barth said somewhere:

"The clasping of hands in prayer is the beginning of an
uprising against the disorders of the world."

Brother Lawrence was not a practitioner; a socio-political activist that is. But he does help to form a perspective from which a practitioner can approach his vocation. A vision of hope in the fallen world.

Table tennis and making of gods

Yesterday was a busy day and in the evening, to unwind, I and Charles decided to have a game of table tennis. I lost 15-3 to my friend from Gujarat. Anyway let me not talk about my embarrassment. Here I would like to recollect some very curious things I got to hear. Both of us were talking about our respective states. He told me that in Gujarat, an interesting phenomenon is seen. In that part of the country if you render service to the public, do good to the masses, you are not just remembered as a good, generous man. Within a generation you are deified. In the popular imagination you would become a kind of god. Even temples would come up commemorating the apotheosis. He mentioned about a man called Jala Ram, who, it is believed would generously give to whoever came to him for monetory help. He would put his hand in the pocket of his ganji (a kind of handspun vest, the one you can see Paresh Rawal wearing in Hungama or few other movies) and empty it for the person asking for help. Now in the popular imagination he has achieved a status of a demi-god. Another man Bhathi ji who was skilled in sucking poison from someone suffering a snake bite has a temple built in his name. And it is believed that if leaves from a tree near that temple are rubbed on to the victim's wound he would be all right.

Charles asked me if this was true of Punjab. If it was as easy for people here to appoint and accept someone a god. Thankfully that doesn't happen here because if that were true of Punjab, there would be more gods here then men to pay obeisance to them. The sardars of Punjab are generally very generous in that sense. Anyway, the reason I felt that it is not such a prominent phenomenon here is because of a general religious atmosphere created by specific teachings of the Sikh gurus, who forbade apotheosis of men and designated the scriptures as the last and the true Guru.

I wonder if my assessment is correct.

By the way Charles next time we have a game be sure of a tougher resistance! This Punjabi would not so easily let a Gujarati become a local table-tennis god.

More on reservations

A call for a nation wide stir has gone out. Unfortunately the people who are participating and those who are encouraging such a confrontational stance are hardly aware of facts? Here is a story that might put some sense in the agitators.

Young India!

The students are beginning to protest on the streets against the proposed hike in reservation quota. This morning's newspapers carry that moving picture of a young doctor in her white overall braving the gushes of water. A question however looms large in the background of these images. Why weren't these young students, studying to make it big in the global job market, ever outraged knowing that they are part of a system where young boys and girls born in a certain category of social hierarchy would always grow up to clean their toilets and wipe their floors? That they would grow old doing this. And then their children would carry the baton . Why don't they ever see beyond their own jobs? Merit is only a smoke screen behind which they can solidify the foundations of caste oppression.

Why don't these students speak up when a high caste student despite his low marks gets seat in an engineering college by proving that his trader grandfather had been part of some nondescript protest against the colonial merchandise, which gave him a stiff competetion, in pre-independence India? Thus depriving a more competent student who comes from a lower social wrung, but who could not conjure any such certificate for the simple reason that he is not connected through caste strings to those people who matter at the issuing agency.

An immigrant at the Post Office

The man standing in front of me in the queue at the post office would occasionally look at the telephone bill and the cheque I held in my hand. He was making the payment in cash. And since the line wasn't moving fast enough- and it never does when you are number three and beyond - he was throwing quasi-curious, somewhat nervous glances all around. After a while he asked me if my bill was too high to be accepted in cash. "They don't accept cash for an amount more than 5000," I said to him, "though my bill is not that much." A look of satisfaction appeared on his face as if this was exactly the information he wanted standing there at that moment. Talking to someone can ease the nerves so much. Daunting places become bearable. And we renew the strength to persevere. Meanwhile, the line moved on.

"How many pay orders are you booking?" The voice sounded like a school teacher's admonishing an erring student who forgot to do his homework. It was coming from the other side of the glass-window. The young woman receiving the payments was not happy with something about the man who was handing her the money order forms. Till now she was working rather efficiently and, of course, quietly. The dark, short man, young and unshaven, was rattled by the imperious tone of the question. "Two." He barely managed to utter the word. "Then why are you not giving both together?," she said almost chiding him. Sheepishly he extended his arm from under that glass edge. She counted the money and in the same abrasive tone revisited the flummoxed man,"Upar ke paise kahan hain?" The man had not yet handed her the service charges. He could not understand her instantly and was quiet. The man standing behind her who had earlier asked me about my bill told him what she meant. The payorder man only had one 500 rupee note which he passed on to her. She seemed to have some doubt about the note. She gave it to Purshottam ji to pass it on to "Sir" who was busy rummaging through many envelopes and files. Meanwhile she started keying in the data. "Anjali what?" she asked not being able to read the addressee's name. The inflexion in her voice suggesting that Anjali for her is the most despicable name on earth and what is the word she thinks should be deleted from the dictionaries, precisely because she needed to use it with this man. The man told her what of Anjali. By this time "sir" had had a look at the note. Mumbling something he threw it back to Purshottam ji who passed it back to our lady of the cash-receipt. "This won't work. Give loose two hundred rupees," she amazingly maintaining her contempt. He didn't have any other money. "This is all I have." The woman had had enough of this man by that time. She flung the forms and the money back at the man who for a moment thought that the job is done. He looked at the forms and the money. "It was for four thousand, wasn't it?" saying she stretched out her hand for the next payment. The man thought she was having a second thought about what she had just done. He wanted to give his forms again but soon realized that he has to find another note and then begin again at the end of this line because by this time man next to him had already handed over his bill and money.

Universal Church and Pigeon Holes of Perception

I wonder what Cardinal Roger Mahony of Los Angeles would have to say to the accusation that "his outspoken views [on contentious US migrant law ] were an attempt to increase Latino numbers in Catholic churches faced with dwindling attendances." The media which otherwise is sympathetic to the migrants, would pick the church apart if it stands with the victim. Even though the cardinal is only stating the basic biblical position i.e., to "stand with "the poor, the stranger and the least among us"," he cannot escape the vitriolic attacks from certain apostles of liberal humanism.

The situtaion for the church, it seems, is same all over the world. It faces similar kind of criticism in US as it does in India. Here the church, extending support to the downtrodden: the dalits and the tribals, is percieved and portrayed with suspicion. All sorts of motives are attributed to the work of church in India. The communists suspect the church because to them Indian church is a direct beneficiary of the CIA money, which it uses to create trouble for the communist movement. The extremist organization try to garner political support publicising the idea that the church is trying to undermine nation's unique and pristine culture. The liberals want the church to limit its activities in the areas of health and education, but they also subscribe to the theory that church's evangelistic efforts only disrupt the society.


I wonder what our ecclesiologists have to say about it?