Showing posts from July, 2008

Terror and Politics

There was a hospital here, gentlemen. Two hundred beds, eight doctors, twenty nurses. Each single one and all the patients were killed. That’s what an atomic bomb does.” - Professor Tsusuki, a leading surgeon in Japanese surgeon while showing Hiroshima to a team of the Red Cross. “The supreme value of human life and human blood has been forgotten, and human dignity too.” – General MacAruthur, Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces in the 2nd World War. Quoted from The First Atom Bomb by Marcel Junod. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ You can’t really trust any notions of behaviour these days. No civil or even humane norms, no responsibility or feeling of duty, no nothing. If terrorists bombing a hospital wasn’t enough- (a boy who went there to learn cycling from his father, a hospital staff, has lost his legs and his fighting for his life, while his dad is missing. And there were other patients too,) our political lea…

Who makes the decisions?

This is about the already much discussed Indo-US Nuclear deal. I don't pretend to be a nuclear expert, I do not claim to have sufficient knowledge or expertise to express my opinion on the subject, but as a citizen of the country, I have a right to ask questions on the manner in which the decision on such an important issue was taken.
The Government said this was in the interest of the country. The pact was needed for India's energy requirements. Good. But did anybody tell us what would be India's energy requirement in the next twenty years and how much of that would be met by this pact? Did anybody think of telling us why it couldn't be met by India's own resources? Did anybody consult the Indian scientists to ask if we could generate our own nuclear energy? What about the thorium reserve in Ladakh?
The Leftists opposed this pact simply because the USA is their ideological enemy. Some others said this pact was anti-Muslim. Now what on earth was that about? If the p…


Last week we drove from Kolkata to Bhubaneshwar – my parents drove, i.e., while I watched the way from the backseat. Sometimes I think that’s my role in life- the backseat – always passive, never taking a direction, just allowing myself to be carried away or drifted with the tide – but let’s leave that aside for now. We started at the crack of dawn- at around 5.20am. It was a wet day, the sky was gloomy and my parents who were taking turns to drive found it rather inconvenient. As for me- I enjoyed the show. Speeding across deserted streets that would be choked in traffic snarls in a few hours’ time, watching the old metropolis waking up to another day, we made it from one end to the other of the city in unbelievable time – half an hour, to be precise. There was the great sacred river with yellow lights twinkling on its banks as a light drizzle grazed its surface. And then finding the Bombay road – National Highway 6, then 60 – long straight roads flanked by green paddy fields, freque…

Kedarnath at Midnight

The moon was quiet that nightAs it bathed the snow in beauteous lightThe mighty peak seemed holier than it had at day-Silent, omnipotent under the starry sky.The houses slept, enchanted as if by the silver wand.Staring through the dreamy sheenI groped for words and failed to thinkWhat magic or power had touched the earth,Some eternal poetry in forgotten scriptWas alive at that hour; throughout agesFrom prehistoric times.


The moment she walked onto the grounds she knew she shouldn’t have come. But it was too late for regret.

She had been hearing about Connections from the first day of college. She had heard about it in school too, about this coolest college-fest in town, but it was a distant thing then. In college, it was an all-pervasive presence. Everybody grew more and more obsessed with Connections as December approached but her family had already planned a vacation to the seaside. The next year, the fest was postponed to January, just before their exams. No questions of coming, of course. When the final year fest came around, she was struggling with a terrible cold and was also feeling quite lazy about the whole thing. She thought about her sore throat and what the outside wind could do to it, and she thought about the crowded evening buses. And then she decided to go.

It took a while to find her friends in the fully packed ground, what with the band on the stage at the far end of the ground and…


Wanting to ask you something,

I groped around my dusty days

And found I had no questions.

Wishing greatly to speak to you,

I searched the pages of the book

And learnt there was nothing to say.

I ran through the entire phonebook:

All names were yours and you were nowhere.

I deleted the message I’d typed for you.

And all my words have lost their way

Into some indifferent black-hole.