Wars for Peace... ...And other ridiculous ideas!

Fighting wars to make peace, war against terror OR Terror against War... The Bush era has spawned a series of silly phrases.. And what is more ridiculous is that were actually taking them serious.

Each TRIAL of today's perpetrators of the most heinious crimes, exhibits far more catching Catch 22's than Joseph Heller could have ever imagined.

The US and UN with NATO ordered strikes to kill Gaddafi. Shoot a million dollars worth of missiles - from miles away - in an attempt to free the world of an apparently ruthless dictator. The number of innocents and associates of the dictator killed in a now very commonly used term "collateral damage" gets international pardon, keeping the ultimate goal - the elimination of a Gaddafi, in public vision.

And yet, when the blood thirsty, liberation army troops, who have had to fight the same battle on the ground, find him and inflict the same fate on this target, from close range.... The UN , the International Court of Justice, the Human Rights bodies of this very unjust world, cry foul. Now they want to investigate how, in what manner Gaddafi met his end.

Shoot from close and beat or torture him from close, and it becomes a crime against humanity.

Kill the same person and 200 other people in the vicinity with a missile strike or several of them, and this gets forgotten as a war of terror. It's just Collateral Damage.

We now will spend a few more billion dollars in investigating whether Gaddafi was killed in the right manner?

Wonder how much more they are going to spend on this closed file?

Prevention of Malaria : Eradicating Mosquitoes and other PESTS

This blog is a result of a funny chain reaction... Reading the news of Gaddafis death, I briefly though of George Bush, and thus re-read my earlier blog on Induced Democracies, where I had mentioned a brief gesture from George Bush on his war on Malaria.

It has always struck me as strange, that the development world spends millions on treated mosquito bed nets as a means to preventing malaria. I was re reading my blog on Induced democracy and the so called efforts made by George Bush to eradicate Malaria.

My first thoughts were :
- How much time does an African villager spend indoors in the bed ( if he has one!! )
The answer was about 4-5 hours at the most or about 20%+f the time.

- do Mosquitoes only bite at night?
This seemed to be more of a western concept of sleep discomforts. I've been bitten by mosquitoes at all times in the dAy as well as night. Yes, it's true that when we sleep, we have a lesser chance of defence, and thus the net could help for sure.

I'm not trying to criticise the efforts in reducing exposure to being bitten at night, but if an NGO or development body really needs to prevent mosquito bites, they should do so using several methods :
1. Advocating cleanliness of surroundings
2. Advocating personal hygiene
3. Advocating use of mosquito repellent creams - ideally non toxic herbal creams.
The above would cover villagers from close to 80 or 90 % of their time. The balance could be covered by the use of treated nets.

The first two points above would gradually bring about a reduction in the requirement for all other external repellants.

Till then, let's hope that now that they've got Gaddafi, they can spend a little more of their "WAR ON... budgets" on a war on malaria during daytime as well.

A Hazar Anna Hazares

I often wonder how many of us had heard of Anna Hazare over 6 months ago? ( I can of course practically see those intellects stand up, saying that they knew of this Gandhian from Ralegan Siddhi - in typical 'Silencer' ( the fourth and only idiot in the now famous Three Idiots) fashion!! Well I hadn't heard of him. The first mental visual when I heard the name, was that of a blonde spouse of a Cricketing hero. This is typical of the current mental state I am in. I've been trying to practice thinking 'out of the box', that the thought process starts with the most bizarre, furthest out of the box thoughts. Others laugh. I've got used to me. Thus, once convinced that Anna Hazare was indeed a Gandhian, following principles of Non-violence, making a serious effort to fight corruption, my mindset about the person changed. only to be rudely shaken back, into a box, when lo-and-behold, there stood alongside him, the usual suspects - politicos in orange garbs, tantrics wielding political microphonic megaphones, and of course with some brilliant actors too. ( I refer not to the presence of Aamir Khan, whom I genuinely admire, but to the theatrical skills of former employees of TATA Steel and the Indian Police Force, respectively (without respect!) The antics and drama, brought to the forefront of a genuine fight against corruption, have made this make Anna or Team Anna look terribly monologued! They look like the "Lagaan" cricket team at practice. All running like headless chicken! Making mockery of a genuine Indian concern! A Billion people, plagued by corruption, yet living with it in as though in a marriage (An Indian Marriage at that!! No morally acceptable separation)! I read this in a friends comment on the same subject. You realise that a vast majority of us who have just heard of Anna Hazare, feel some sort of empathy. Millions of us. Yet we seem impotent in being able to effectively do something about it. The standard rhetoric is - If you want to do something about It then cast your vote! Or Join Politics. UGH. Well, until we start Overseas NRI voting for the first option. The second option - not an easy one for many of us who don't play games! The first one is a one time option for a full term and thus makes no sense! It would take a tremendous effort to make any change during the tenure. And that's where the problem with our democracy lies. The incumbent politician rakes in the most he can till the next election. The Hazar Hazares will scream and shout, go on hunger strikes. Can they make a difference? Will they be able to reduce corruption? Or are they going to replace an entrenched corrupt system with another one? The more one sees the hanger ons and the dramatists alongside, the less the Hazar Hazares will be seen behind the real Hazare. Nairobi, Enjoying the wonderful climate ...from Indoors!! October, 17th, Wednesday, 2011

Teachers Day

A little note to my schoolmates from KV Tamabaram , from a discussion on Good and Bad Teachers

My two bits on Teachers (in bytes)

Both my parents have been teachers ever since I knew them!!

Thus had the fortune to be "taught" both at home as well as School.

Dad was a Professor of English, and thus in a silent way, nurtured my aptitude for word play and Limericks especially. He let us learn rather than taught us. Mum, on the other hand, was a nursery teacher. She was loved by her children immensely and took nurturing children to a great extent. The flexibility she exhibited at school transformed into firmness at home. She was the one we were a little scared of at home. The verbal ruler she used , and sometimes the physical one, taught us about discipline, and more importantly, we discovered (learnt/innovated) of methods on how to evade detection whenever we indulged, lets say, in behaviour that attracted admonishing!

Thus, between Dad and Mum at home, we learnt a lot about life.

Dad taught us some morals. For Example, one that always remains firmly implanted, is when I was suspected of smoking ( I say suspected purely due to the fact that while everyone knew that I was smoking, I imagined that the strong overpowering flavour of Minty and Supari, could easily camouflage the "mild" fragrance of cigarettes). His stern advice was " if you want to smoke, use your own hard earned money, not mine. " . Mum of course was far more vocal and a little physical.
When I moved out of KV Tambaram, there was an option to join Vanavani (ICSE) or KVIIT. The problem was that Dad was principal at Vanavani..... It took my Dad to understand my plight. A Princis son!!!! Get badgered by your opponents and friends. Do well and it's because you're Princis son. Do bad, and you're the blacksheep of the family. Do nothing and yet be ostracised by friends who want to make Princi or other jokes!! So I studied at KV IIT, escaping the direct wrath of teachers and classmates. Yet our Princi (M T Sreenivasa Iyengar, respectfully shortened to MT) wouldn't hesitate to call up Dad on occasions of minor mis-demeanours.

Life has been tough I would say , but I'd do anything to go back and re-live those stressful moments of school life. I remember the whacking, thrashing that our Sanskrit Panditji gave me for having thought he heard me call him by the local name of the " kudumi"(a short ponytail on an otherwise shaven head, most often on the head of a pundit!!). It wasn't me !! But I got a thrashing of my life, that Drove what few shlokas I did have within, out! He later apologised when Thomas Abraham, very gallantly went to him later, privately, and owned to having used the offending synonym. Thomas got brownie points from all for being honest. I live on with a mental block that's has anything to do with the language of the Gods!!

Thus on Teachers day, I'd like to thank my teachers for putting in and taking out various pieces of a puzzle in me. Is the picture complete? I don't think so.

Cheers
Ram
PS I am a strong believer that character building starts at home and can only be moulded in School. The stronger the clay, the better the pot. The hands that mould can determine the shape, but not the strength.

The Baba Blacksheep of India

While I do know that public mention of a few names/celebrities in my blog may be cause for controversy, I presume that their being public figures entitles us to discus them on a public platform, without prejudice!!

THE BABA BLACKSHEEP OF INDIA

Hear the 'pre-fix' Baba, and instead of imagining a respectful elder preaching good behaviour and peace, we see the likes of power, sex and money hungry bearded saffron clad men using gullible followers to attain nirvanic heights of power, wealth, and possibly ecstacy.

How stupid can we get? We imagine that the likes of a Baba Ramdev or a Sri Sri whatever, or for that matter,even the erstwhile Sai, Maharshi Yogi or Rajneesh - purpotedly to be men of high spiritual intellect and moral benevolence!!  We have become so gullible that we dont look beyond those haunting voices or eyes (eye in Ramdevs case).  Mass hypnotism using Yoga and Spiritualism! Twisting words and advice into shapes that any Yogic Asana would be proud of - they never falter to deceive.

They have their mass following that gets them their revenue.  And then they have the creme de la creme - the Powerful, unscrupulous and corrupt political endorsements.

Religion and Spiritualism have been the best businesses ever. Tax free, Salary free and low investment high return businesses - and mass appeal and following. That is where the similarity with the nursery rhyme begins - Baa Baa Black Sheep refers to a herd - the Babas too have herds. Yes Sir Yes Sir Enough of WOOL to pull over your eyes!!

I stuck a morphed picture (Not taken by me and neither morphed by me) of Anna Hazare (Wh is ANNA Hazare) and Ramdev - morphed into Jai & Veerus famous Yeh Dosti Motorbike picture - signifying the friendship of cause that they both partnered recently - purportedly to fight corruption in Governemnt. I received flak from supporters of Anna and some of the Baa Ba Ba and more - form a friend considering the Congress party being more corrupt than the BJP , and found the arguments worthy of argument.

Anna and Ramdev - Each one promising to fast unto death until corruption in Government died. Sounds funny - but Corrution in Social work and Spiritualism giving their life up to terminate Corruption in Government! Will we see the day when some of our Politicians threated to give up their lives fasting until the Swamis and Babas of the world relinquish corruption and mass duping?

All birds of the same feather and sheep of the same wool!!

Baa Baa
Ram
We, will follow idiotic politicians in Saffron, follow a Sushmita dancing as though in a trance, an Advani preending he is on Arjuns charriot - Accept the disruption caused in Parliament over non-issues - Let a silly saffron clad terrorist to the nation hold us to ransom. 

Where have gone their yogic powers. They too die of common mans illnesses, are kept alive on instuments like ventilators (an instrument of God?).  They will die too inspite of all divine and yogic interventions, But then so will all of us. But were not the ones claiming invincibility and divinity!!!

Bissau Diary - May 2011 - A Bike, Good Food, Brazilians, Music and Nuts

Welcome to Bissau
(Bemvindo na Bissau)

The Central Place(Praca) - Eneida Marta Live

I have always loved being in Guinea Bissau.  Despite the pitiable city roads and poor infrastructure - it is a city that is bustling. One wonders what all the activity is about. Yet the market is bustling, the traffic is never light.  Well dressed and fashion conscious girls thronging the market place. The many Bars are full and loud. The good but few Restaurants are relatively expensive, and yet full and lively.

Weekends in Bissau are inevitably fun - but that doesnt mean to say that week days aren't. A great meal with Super Bock or Caipirinhas or some simple yet nice portuguese wines in the company of a few business friends.... Business is soon forgotten. The discussion is always about the food, women, politics and life in Bissau.

Off late I've procured a motorcycle in Bissau.  The book 'Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance' beckons me to read it once again, from cover to cover. The only recollection I have of the cult book is the reason for the authors love for bikes -  being the true contact with air from the places you pass. You get to interract one-on-one with the environments of neighbourhoods that you pass by. Unlike the car - where you are boxed in - protected and yet alienated from the real world.

Twist the throttle and my 160 cc Apache is away.



 TVS RTR 160 Apache
My Bissau 'HORSE'
Is a well know brand in Bissau

In my few years in Bissau, I have possibly eaten some of my best meals of my life, in this country.(I quickly must add at risk of being thrown out of home, Jamila's cooking still is honestly the best - here I refer to eating out.)   My first thought of eating on a weekend, and thoughts move to savouring the crude and labourious, yet rustic and delicious 'Ostras'.  'Ha Ostras' - the signboard says - informs us that river Oysters are available  (But that could possibly have been the case at the time the sign board was written.).  Thus a follow up enquiry is made which results in the gleeful affirmative response - that they indeed do have them.  River Oysters grilled over a wood fired open smoky grill - with 'Malageta com Limao'. Any Malayalee (from Kerala /India) or a Tamilian would know Malageta - a derived word or a genuine similarity - we have no idea - Ground Green chillies with Lemon. Oyster splitting knives , a little towel, A dustbin (or a simple carboard box) and the instant the 'prato' or huge bowl of Steaming grilled Oysters are put on your plate - we get to work - ensuring that not one of the few hiding oysters are missed. The constant clatter of empty oyster shells dropping into the waste bins and the constant tabla like hammering on Oysters by each 'speculator', as though were mining and looking for gold, with the din of the chatter around the table - makes this a very memorable outing in Bissau. You could ride the scenic well paved 50 kilometres to Mar Azul just past Quinhamel, enjoying the beautiful settings of the river or drive down to Prabis and sit under a tree and enjoy this un delicate delicacy.  Certainly not for the weak stomached and neither for hygiene concerned tourists. But for the adventurous, an experience of a life time.

Two weeks ago we rode to Quinhamel  and wasted 'quatro pratos' of Ostras at Quinhamel. Accompanied by our Brazilian friends, Ary and Orion ( duly chrstened Ari NAIR and Ori NAIR - the long accepted surname for any quality inspector of Cashew) and we were joined by Portuguese friend Lolita and the loud but funny Marcus Petrovski Bragga - a Portuguese with a strong devised Russian accent.  My riding partner Kaushik on his horse too. Two bikes and two cars. A wild ride back with the NAIRs taking turns at riding the bike. We rode back in a hurry to watch the finals of the Brazilian Football league - Corinthia versus a name I cant remember - at the Adega de Loueriro, one of Bissaus best Restaurants if I may say.  Small, yet rustique.  Simple terracotta decor, and slow yet charming service.  A friendly place owned by Miguel and his mother and Brother Hugo. Excellent grills and portuguese rice with 'feijao' (beans).  The portions are huge. Sleepy portions we call them. Food so good that you cant stop and when you stop you cant get up!! The Adega is always full as was on this occassion. Full with many Brazilians - both males and females.  The NAIRS had invited two very charming Brazilian friends to watch the match together with them.  Very soon one of them was being hit hard on by Petrovski, the Portuguese maverick!! An instant dislike of two nationalities speaking the same language - fills the air! But that is a private moment and shall not let it tamper with this blog!

Many days have passed and our Brazilain friends have got closer.  Theyve visited Bissaus famous 'Ilhas' - the amazing archipelago of a number of islands. Bubaque and Rubane are already unforgetable places to vist.  We're already planning an overnight boat trip ..if of course 'yours faithfully' can organise a boat!!

Stangely enough, my good friend John 'Tiger' missed the rendezvous' and finally got to meet the Brazillians just last week. Am sure he regrets not having accepted invitations earlier.

I've learnt a lot about Brazil in the last few weeks.  Family life in Brazil seems similar to India. Work seems to take Brazilians away from their families.  The Brazilain economic boom is apparently evident in Sao Paolo alone. Yet they are a fun loving and very friendly people wanting for a chance to laugh. They spend hours calling families at home. The emotions are private.

The Brazilians are here in Bissau for various reasons. Ari and Ori Nair are now joined by Ricardo and Napoleon (We have christned them PILLAIs). They represent Brazils largest and probably the worlds largest processor of Cashew. Iracema is the single largest automated processor of Raw Cashews. The Nairs and Pillais are here to ship out thousands of tons of RCN(as Raw Cashews Nuts are commonly referred to). On the other hand, the  other Brazilians Leia, Maria Fernanda, Andrea, Jaqueline, Sincha, Ricardo etc are all here on a Brazilain Government Social Work Programme to build a school.  The Cashew Buyers and the Social Workers have hit it off wonderfully. 

But the Brazilains are not here to just buy the Cashew Nuts in any form.  Representing a nation that has very stringent phyto sanitary laws, they have taken Cashew buying to a new level.  Open jawed Indian buyers are aghast that any exporter from Guinea Bissau will actually take the trouble to sieve every bag of Cashew to remove vegetative foreign matter.  And thats not all. All sieved clean cashew, must then be bagged in 60Kgs bags. Last year when we worked with George Chen and Glorias Chinese / Moroccan / Portuguese /Indian team on Cashew - we thought that was unique.  This year has been uniquer (if one may use the word).

Ary Nair and I seem to have hit it off very well.  We both like design and machines and thus our Cashew sieving project is moving ahead because of our warped mechanical minds.  We both like Music Video and Food too.  Both are kind of reserved enough to not exploit the female phermones that fill the air - though the desire is evidently there!! Jealousy looms a weighty veil as the more bohemian Brazilians and Portuguese corner the seemingly RWA Brazilians.  Public yet reserved evenings are now spent with the group at discotheques in the evening listening to lilting soulful Bissau Guinean or Cuban music.. And speaking of Music, lifts my spirits - as last night - I have had one of the best musical evenings of my life.  A live show by one of Bissaus own - at the Imperio Praca - the central park.  A show that was washed away the previous evening with the first rains in Bissau.  Eneida Marta singing her Bissau Guinean soul to a packed central park - in the foreground of the old dilapilated Presidential palace. 8 Brazilians and One Indian, and scores of other residents of Bissau enjoyed some very original and lilting yet thumping music in the honour of Wives of Bissau.

The Bike, The Good Food, The Music among others - raise a tempting voice  - 'Come Back to Bissau' it says.  The Simplicity of it all is very powerful. And I think - the More simple it sounds, the more complicated it will get.

Ram

Luanda, Casa de A Lopes, Bissau