A 'short trek' till Shangri-La

Seeing me huffing and puffing an elderly woman who was descending the steps said to her friend, “He’ll be disappointed when he realises the temple is closed. It’s 10 past one.” While this might have deterred others, I was too tired to care. I held on to the red-coloured railing that led to the temple precariously perched on a cliff — a monastery, which after a three-hour trek seemed more of a mirage. I suppose at 10,000 ft when you’re gasping for breath, the mind plays games and reflexes numb. I waved at another group that passed by. I’m not sure if they saw it but I couldn’t care less. The last three hours had been by all means life-changing.

“It’s going to be easy”
“It’s 10 in the morning, the skies are clear and it’s going to be a pleasant walk. It will take two hours to reach the top. Also, we could stop at the cafeteria and if anyone feels tired, they can use the pony,” Nado, our Bhutanese friend, said in his contagious jovial tone. He was doing a great job of egging us on. But he forgot that we were city-bred ‘morning walk’ lads — a walk for him was a hike for us and a hike for him was, well, an impossibly treacherous trek for us.
We started as a group of eight and soon split depending on our speed. In about 20 minutes, I realised it was no cakewalk — my muscles had to work overtime. Twenty minutes later, I convinced myself that there was no dishonour in availing the services of a pony. But it wasn’t a good idea. Ponies, they say, are surefooted and will not fall despite choosing to walk on the ridge of the path. While on one side is the dirt track, the other side is the gaping ravine. A sense of vertigo added to the fear. Better sense prevailed and I soon unburdened the pony off its load.

“You’re almost there”
The Prayer Wheel and cafeteria are located midway to the monastery. In addition to munching on mouth-watering Bhutanese delicacies, one can recline in bamboo chairs, enjoy a massage, sip Bhutanese butter tea, soak the sun and enjoy the view of Taktsang. When seen from there Taktsang (Takt- Tiger, sang- Nest) had a mystic air about it. It was like watching a documentary and having the privilege of the ‘first peek’ at a long-lost monastery. It was a like a castle in a Disney movie.
After a few crackers and some hot tea I thumped my calves and continued walking. The postcard image of Taktsang was playing in my mind. While it helped alleviate my fatigue, the most motivating factor was the encouragement by hikers who were descending. People I’ve never met, and may never will, were saying: “You’re almost there”, “The worst is over...”
To reach the ‘viewpoint’ I crossed one-foot wide ledges, lost my way twice, exhausted my water supply and slipped and fell more than once.

The view from the cliff
The viewpoint is a great example of how nature derives a wicked pleasure in taunting. From there, I could see Taktsang in detail. Yet, it was far, far away. From here one has to descend a flight of steps to the bottom of the mountain, cross over to the other mountain and climb to the height one just descended to reach Taktsang.
The thought of continuing the trek was an ordeal. But the very nature that taunts also encourages. One look at the lush green valley, the black mountain face, the blue skies peppered with white clouds and I knew I shouldn’t give up.
While the descent was challenging, the ascent was even more demanding.

Heaven on earth
Leaning on to the red-coloured railing was not a good idea. On the other side was a ravine that was picturesquely dangerous. I leaned on the rugged mountain instead and continued upwards. Soon on my left was a Damchi, a Tibetan Mastiff. He seemed disinterested in the pity sight of a man out of his breath and wits.
As I reached the temple door the priest was closing it. I cursed my luck and blamed the gods for it. And there were quite a few to blame for here was a Christian, born in West Asia, raised in India standing at a Buddhist monastery. The next 45 minutes were really testing as the winds picked up and the cold was biting my bones.
At two ‘o’clock a monk opened the door. After visiting the different deities in the temple, I walked to the edge from where I could see the entire valley. I paused for a moment and took a deep breath. It was precisely then that it dawned on me why the trek was worth it. There are some moments in life when words seem inappropriate and pictures seem inadequate. This was one of those moments. Maybe this was heaven. If someone asked me how heaven looked like, I would suggest the view from Taktsang. The cold wind was still blowing but I was feeling warm. The air was pristine and all my senses (that were near shutdown earlier) were appreciating nature at its immaculate best. I was looking at Shangri-La. I could have stayed there for ages but that moment alone was enough to keep me going for a long, long time.

A Slimy Nexus That Threatens Fourth Estate

For someone whose job is to talk about others, he is easily the most talked about man in town. Known for the power he wields and the fear he instils, people are in awe at his aura and clout — some respect him, some fear him and some oblige for want of an option. He has got his ‘team’ prowling the streets and threatening both the commoner and elite alike with brash authority. He’s got top politicians and policemen on his speed-dial and the who’s who makes it a point to attend his kitty parties. Politicians use him and he needs them — it’s a slimy symbiotic coexistence. He has decimated others in the business and ‘rules’ the town. His detractors are either threatened or their silence is bought. Then, one fine day, a greenhorn musters the courage to speak against the man and blows his cover. As always it just takes one small charge to start a domino effect. Soon the once feared, once praised ‘entrepreneur’ is an outcaste. Politicians, who until then were singing encomiums, make a beeline to attest the fact that such people are a bad influence on the society. The tables have turned and the man is neck deep in the goo he once threw at others.
While this might be the storyline of many potboilers we have sat through, this is the gist of the crisis that is rocking the Western media. The phone hacking scandal, which started with News of the World hacking into the voicemail of 13-year-old Milly Dowler after she was reported missing, has grown into a monster that is rocking the House of Commons and has reverberations in the US and Australia. The means adopted by Rupert Murdoch’s News Corporation-owed newspaper for that extra edge over rival papers has put criminal syndicates to shame. From employing known criminals to gather information (to get information about Gordon Brown’s son’s cystic fibrosis) to being in cahoots with the police and political class, they have done everything that’s not in the book. The ongoing hearing by the Commons Media Committee, which Murdoch, son James and former editor of NOTW Rebekah Brooks will appear, should reveal more details on how the operations were conducted.
What should concern us in India are the repercussions a similar scandal would have on the media here. The media in India is out of its infancy and is growing at an alarming pace, especially considering the fact that globally media (especially newspapers) are in the red. And it would be unfortunate if this promising growth is threatened. The government, under the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting, has its task cut out to ensure that while the thin line between freedom of press and invasion of privacy is maintained, it is not crossed. The media houses, in their mission to increase visibility and TRPs, would do well to keep in mind this distinction. They will have to act in a responsible manner. The failure to do so will prompt the government to intervene — something that can lead to undesired results.
While the argument over ‘what is news?’ is an old debate that is done to death with no avail, it is the means adopted to achieve that ‘exclusive’ ‘breaking’ story that needs focus. Investigative journalism and sting operations have brought to light many incidence and the media is only richer, thanks to such bold endeavours. The moment the means is overlooked to justify the end, the foundation of the fourth estate is threatened.
Replace the man mentioned in the beginning with Rupert Murdoch and the picture becomes clear with the potential for a Hollywood blockbuster. But, unlike as in our movies, Sean Hoare, the person who brought to light the dubious deeds in NOTW, was found dead in his apartment on Monday. It is too early to arrive at conclusions, but one cannot be faulted for smelling a rat.

(This has appeared in The New Indian Express on Wednesday 20, July 2011. Link: http://expressbuzz.com/opinion/op-ed/a-slimy-nexus-that-threatens-fourth-estate/295862.html)

A Big Fat Royal Wedding

On Friday the royal wedding between Prince William and Catherine Middleton was solemnised. One hopes that it will bring to an end the on-your-face coverage of an affair-proposal-engagement-wedding that the media, and this time its not just the Indian television media, has covered to the extent of regurgitating revulsion. The silliest and minutest of detail has been analysed threadbare that calling it ‘Wedding Trivia’ would be trivialising it — Where the couple first met, what was the colour of the skirt Kate was wearing then, what are Kate’s fears (this includes a wardrobe malfunction when she is the cynosure of more than two billion eyes at Abbey)... the list is long.

That having been said there are a few positives we can take from this jamboree which was telecast live around the world. Things have not been looking up for the Conservative-Lib Dem coalition from the time it came to office in May 2010. The economy is caught in a quicksand and rescuing it has pulled down every Briton’s spirit. So plagued is the country with cuts and reforms, add to that the wars it is fighting, that Blair-bashing and jokes on the Duke of Edinburgh have lost its edge. It is at this juncture that Prince William pops the question to which Kate blushes in response. And to adapt the infamous words of the ‘great princess’ in 18th Century France to today’s Britain, when it is hard to find bread, Qu’ils mangent de la brioche (Let them eat cake). And Britons are having that cake at a rumoured cost of around £50-80 million.

Another group that are benefiting are the bookies. Bets were placed right from the colour of the queen’s hat to the amount of time Kate would keep William waiting at the altar.

The economic slowdown caused by the sub-prime crisis has affected most countries in the world and if a wedding can lift the spirits of an emotionally and economically beaten Britain, it sure can be tested in other parts of the world. The royal families of other European countries are not as prominent as the British royalty and this space is taken by their illustrious politicians. In France, the latest news that has the nation excited is about whether First Lady Carla Bruni-Sarkozy is pregnant or not. The news has been overshadowed by the royal wedding but it is expected to soon gain prominence. To lift the spirits of Italians perhaps Silvio Berlusconi could marry. His current wife Veronica Lario has filed for divorce and once that’s through, the Italian prime minister can walk down the aisle for the third time. The only thing he would have to be weary of is that unlike his bunga-bunga exploits he should ensure that his bride is of marriageable age.

India can also do well with a wedding booster dose. And it is not sure if this will lift the morale of the aam aadmi plagued by a lack of governance, but the most eligible candidate for the wedding tamasha is the crown prince of the grand old party. The eligibility criteria here are the promptness at which the television media, especially the English media, is willing to pick up anything and everything done by the 40-year-old “amul baby”, to use the epitaph given by a veteran communist leader recently. I’m not sure about the intricacies of finding a bahu for him, but I’m placing my bet on the fact that the couple will go to a nondescript village in UP for their honeymoon.

Meanwhile, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, as William and Kate will be known from now, can sigh in relief as the madness has just about begun.

I also did it. Finally! - Part Two

(From 'I also did it. Finally!')

After everything was over, I did not know what to do – ‘Should I say ‘thank you’? Do I shake hands?’ I thought. I had not rehearsed this part in my mind. I just walked away without giving or waiting for any pleasantries. I don’t think I turned back either.

I am not sure how many would have had such an experience, even remember when they did it first and how many would be open about mentioning it.

(To be continued…)



It happened on Saturday (March 26, 2011). It was about five-thirty in the evening. The Sun had lost its way in the midst of the many high-rise buildings in the city. Twilight was setting in. I was returning after an interview with two film chief technicians. The interview was at their office in Kodambakkam (yeah the place is notorious for certain nefarious activities and has a locally synonymous connotation) and I must confess that though I’ve been in Chennai for a long time my knowledge about the area is poor. The roads are not familiar and so the traffic arrangement appeared funny.

It happened at a one-way which was bifurcating to the left and right. I had to go to the right but was in the lane turning to the left. Thinking it was fine to turn to the right, I took a turn and there in front of me was a traffic constable. He was in a hurry and reached for my ignition keys. I gestured assuring him that I surrendered and pulled over to the side. (There was a sense of satisfaction on the face of the constable and his companions. It was as though they were a pack of wolves who were salivating at the sight of a trapped sheep).

I got off the vehicle and went to the constable who was resting his arm on the bonnet of his Bolero. “You know it was a mistake.” I was in no mood to argue – there were no traffic signs in the vicinity. “You know, you could have met with an accident.” I did not know how to feel. Should I be happy that the Tamil Nadu Police are so concerned about the safety of motorists? “The fine is Rs 1,350.”

‘No way, this guy should be kidding’, I thought. Here I was like a dog caught in the blaze of a headlight on the highway. I smiled at him. It was more like a please-don’t-screw-me smile. He repeated the ‘Rs 1,350’ part a few more times till he was sure it sank in. After a bit of haggling, in which I told him that the amount he had quoted was too harsh, he asked “You tell me how much should I write? You choose.” It was the month-end and I presume each police station had a certain number of traffic violation cases they had to book, and thereby fill the government coffers.

Maybe he felt sad for me. He would have realised that my purse was not fat enough for the time he was investing. From the initial quote he offered a 50 per cent cut. It was end-of-season-SALE for the police as well. ‘Up to 50 % OFF’.

He enquired about my employer. ‘This was my chance to be the topdog’. I told him that I was from the ‘Press’. On hearing this he was a bit surprised. The senior officer, who until then was busy on some paperwork, turned and looked at me.

There was a pause that didn’t last very long. The constable offered a revised quote. From 50 per cent he offered a discount of 80 per cent. Now that was not bad! The ‘Press’ worked.

Finally we settled for an amount. He took the money in the infamous underhand swift action. I’m not sure if he slipped it into his trouser pocket or into a compartment in his service cap. I asked him if there was a receipt or chellan for the transaction (I would have framed it). It was his turn to smile. It was a you-should-be-kidding-me smile.

I started my vehicle and zoomed away. I was feeling bad that I had settled to give a bribe. I did some thinking on the way (there was a lot of time for that as the traffic jams were real long). The more I thought about it, the more I like it. It was my first time and it was funny. Looking back, I’m telling myself that had I been a bit more prepared, I could have walked away paying nothing. And that’s the story of my first bribe to a police official.

(The End)

I also did it. Finally!

Finally, for the first time in my life, I did it! I knew that I would have to do it someday and always thought that it would be easy. When I realised that I was going to do it, I smiled to myself and thought to myself: ‘This is going to be easy’. After all, I’ve seen it ‘live’ -- this intimate, secretive ‘dance’ between two people, and have seen it any number of times on television and in movies (though it has inadvertently been dramatic in most of them!)

As a kid one is warned against it (mostly by elder siblings or by parents who are open to talk about such issues) and in catechism classes one is taught that it is a sin. Socially it is a taboo but nevertheless a majority of the people have done it and continue to do it – at street corners, behind cars… almost every conceivable place on earth.

But soon I was a bit apprehensive – ‘Should I? Am I erring?’ My hands were shaking and I started to sweat. No matter how many times one rehearses the whole act in the mind, it’s different when it happens.

However the other person was Dr Cool and that helped me a lot in the process.

Though I was feeling a bit ashamed and guilty right after it happened, now, in retrospect, I feel good and elated that it finally happened. The first time, they say, is the best. I am not sure about that but one thing is sure, it’s not going to be the last. After all living in 21st century India, how can one avoid getting into it at least once?

After everything was over, I did not know what to do – ‘Should I say ‘thank you’? Do I shake hands?’ I thought. I had not rehearsed this part in my mind. I just walked away without giving or waiting for any pleasantries. I don’t think I turned back either.

I am not sure how many would have had such an experience, even remember when they did it first and how many would be open about mentioning it.

(To be continued…)

What's in it for India, Obamaji?

India is just recovering from an Obama spell for the past week or so. There are various analyses on the different things he did and did not. The best way, I think, to sum up US President Barack Obama’s visit to India is the way a friend commented on the Obama visit on facebook -- Obama angane nammaley padhapichu. He also posted a translation for the less privileged ones -- Obama has buttered us up with his sweet nothings! How true!

All the sweet talk, rhetoric on security and cooperation and ‘India’s vital role in world order’ will keep the Indian media and pundits busy for a few days. To get a hang of this a bit of Indo-US diplomatic history is essential. I’m not sure if how many caught a good analysis of the history of US meddling with Kashmir since Independence by Goplaji Malviya in the The New Indian Express (http://tinyurl.com/3xxh8dc).

There are many things that stand between an Indo-US relationship that India envisages and a relationship the US desires. And the reason for this is not far. President George W Bush had stated this sometime during his first term in office -- ‘the US has no friends, only allies’. And in politics there are no permanent allies; they keep changing according to the political realities of the time. This fact is tacitly discussed by Harold A Gould, a visiting scholar in the Center for South Asian Studies at the University of Virginia, in his book The South Asia Story where he describes the relationship various US presidents have had with India and it is clear that India has always been viewed with difference, as the ‘other’.

If now the US has started looking towards India it is not because India has ‘reached’ the world high table (as if often said about India). We should not forget that India’s record on various Human Indices is worse than sub-Sahara Africa. If the West has started to give India a glance it is only because of the latter’s growing economy and the chances these countries see in advancing their cause by getting into partnerships with New Delhi.

Regionally also India is not the nation to look up but one must admit that India is ‘on its way’ to greater height. The greatest example of the neglect was seen when India was not invited to the 50 nation conclave discussing the future of the Af-Pak region early this year. At that time the US did not see it fit to acknowledge India’s ‘important presence in Afghanistan’ as a vital factor’. Today Obama is all praise for the good job India has done in the war-torn country. Talk about changing perceptions!

I don’t think that his visit is in anyway a message to China. All the analysis that the US wants to check an intimidating Beijing by boosting New Delhi is thin air. We are no match for the power that China has risen to be today and no one knows that better than the US. More than $2 trillion of foreign reserves is with China. Annual trade between China and the US is around $50 billion while with India it is $13 billion.

No matter how much we try to deceive ourselves into the supposed grandeur of Obama’s visit, the fact remains that the world’s most powerful man came calling on because it was necessary for him to create jobs in the US to salvage his job. One should not forget that his ratings have been climbing downhill ever since his historic win in 2008. It seems like he lost a magic talisman he was keeping until November 4 and is now in the hunt for it. Obama’s India visit is sure a big boost for him back home as he has brought 50,000 jobs and business worth $10 billion.

Obama has told what we in India were waiting to listen. Our fixation in painting Pakistan black and that of getting a permanent seat at the UNSC have blurred our vision for the actual targets -- focusing on increasing our GDP and investing more in R&D. Obama’s visit in a nutshell has done more damage to India than the likely benefits it is to bring about. The damage is long-term and the benefits are only likely.

Media and telegenic violence

The quality of a democracy is measured in the freedom its citizens enjoy, under the Constitution, to voice their views without fear. Productive discussion, constructive criticism and the sagacity to ‘agree to disagree’ should be the yardstick used to measure the maturity of a democracy. It is not a positive sign when the state fails to protect this freedom from being questioned or intimidated by power or might. On Sunday (October 31) this freedom was intimidated when around 100 BJP Mahila Morcha women gathered outside the residence of Arundhati Roy and indulged in vandalism in the pretext of protesting against the writers pro-azaadi stand on Kashmir. Without getting into the merits of her statement, it should be said that the right to express oneself cannot be usurped. If there is anything ‘seditious’ in her words it is the duty of the government to look into it.

It is a cause for concern that similar acts of violence are on the rise; acts which once were the generally associated with the Shiv Sena in Mumbai who resorted to high-handedness in the name of the Marathi manoos, but now is common, be it the Sri Ram Sene unashamedly bashing up girls in Mangalore or religious fanatics chopping the palm of a professor in Kerala.

The police and the television media should also be blamed for their ‘tacit’ encouragement to such forms of protests. That the incident occurred at 11 am in the morning in a high-security diplomatic enclave of Luytens’ Delhi leaves a lot of explanation from the side of the police, especially because this was the second such attack on the writer’s residence, the last one in June this year.

What is disturbing is that before the group gathered and resorted to violence three different TV news channel crews were present in full gear to cover the incident. The question is: Were the news channels intimated about the protests? If so, why were the police caught unawares? Did the presence of cameras and OB vans egg the crowed to resort to violence? It is a known fact that media presence, especially live coverage, is the much-needed oxygen for such trouble mongers.

It seems that in the rat-race for survival of TV news channels, it is not just people who are being ‘sacrificed at the altar of TRP ratings’, to quote Arundhati Roy, but so are the fundamentals of journalism. It should not be forgotten that the above mentioned June attack was a result of a false report that appeared in the media about the author. The violence resorted to by right-wingers, the callousness of the police (administration) and the insensitivity and irresponsibility of the media (particularly broadcast) is a deadly cocktail that we should avoid at any cost.

(The edited version of this has appeared in The New Indian Express. Link:

http://expressbuzz.com/opinion/editorials/the-media-should-introspect/220738.html)