Dars

Writing, as an after thought gives the writer an access to a perspective that they would never have had and thus the luxury of having a factoidal approach to the decision making process that they went through, giving them comfort that they took the right decisions.

1 Dar Sbidat (Meknes) Morocco - The Dar Calipha of Meknes - I empathize with Tahir Shah, the author of a book with a similar name (a book gifted to me, by Alok, a dear diplomat friend, knowing that I was married to a Moroccan) - The story deals with the trials of British author with Indian-Afghan origin, married to an Indian, who migrate from the UK and settle down in Casablanca after having bought a palatial house at a bargain - Dar Calipha (The Caliphs house) - a bargain that he will pay for, for several years, many many times over - Hilariously,  quite similar to my life : married to Jamila, from Morocco - a business with a truck-hire, that we didn't pay entirely for, resulted in this life-long relationship (marriage) , and jokingly I admit, I'm still paying for the truck - now 25 years later. Tahir Shah eventually had to travel to a town called Meknes to resolve the quandary that came in with the purchase of the house - to free himself of the the djins and the staff that came with the house - while it was quite difficult to actually differentiate  between the staff and djins in his book - eventually the book has a very positive end. In his book, I must admit that we will never know whether Tahir was able to really get over the djins or was his mind able to come to terms that they didn't exist any more. Either way - peace of mind attained. 

I am in no way calling my situation a predicament - but the parallels are truly more than coincidental - Our hometown and plans to build are, guess where? Meknes! 

So, continuing my narration, long before I read "Dar Calipha", had travelled to Meknes, Zerhoun, Myrahsinne several consecutive years and had grown to love Morocco.  Living high up in the hills, on the precarious slopes, in a room on the terrace of my in-laws house - was a real experience - and gradually to make daily life simpler, we modernized the room with an air-conditioner and a western toilet. The village was up in the hills on the out skirts of Meknes - next to several famous mausolems - pilgrimage sites, where multitudes of followers of the faith and "powers of prayer" throng year in and year out, seeking to achieve results via spiritual or divine intervention. It was many years later, after having read Tahir's book, that I gradually learnt of the objective of many of the pilgrims to the Mausoleum at Sidi Ali, barely 500 metres from our parental home. Most pilgrims were young, mid aged, and I noticed over the years, more women -  with a determination different from religious fervor. And  gradually this dawned on me that they were similar in character to a Tahir Shah - not in search of religious solace but in search of solutions, paying obeisance to the famed supernatural powers  - to fight spirits (djinns) and spells - Meknes has a reputation that extends beyond religion, to what brought Tahir to Meknes, to resolve his conundrum. 

I, however didn't have to find Meknes. Meknes found me in Conakry. We were destined to meet over that truck-hire business dispute.  And over the years Morocco has endeared itself to me - the initial difficulties in getting a Visa and getting past the airport - all overcome without what I originally thought would have been key to travel in Morocco - "My Knowledge of French". The more I tried to boast of my knowledge of and use the language of the bourgeois,  the more alienation I faced. Until I realised that most Moroccans I met, presumed I was a Moroccan - returning from France - and the anger or animosity surfaced, unabated - "Why do you have to speak the language of the colonizers" - almost asking me if I wasn't ashamed - 'Speak Arabic - You lost soul of an Arab' is what they wanted to apparently  scream at me - and it was until I learnt those magic words - 'Ana Hindi' - and almost like waving a magic wand - in Harry Potter style - the frowns turned apologetic, spreading to broad grins - and the fair complexion turned tanned, eyes widened - Sorry - You are welcome ... We love India, You are Amitabh Bachchan, the older ones said. (Shah Rukh Khan is the preferred alias bestowed by the younger ones especially by the younger girls) - Needless to say, brightening up my face as well, blushing at times - when some of the young girls have immediately used lipstick to draw a Bindi, and offer "Mujhse shaadi karogey?" (Will you marry me) - I could go on dreaming  - but also remember the quick tug at my arm - and Jamila retorted (on the one occasion this happened at the airport, purchasing a sim card), informing the rather eager and pretty sales girl that I was already "Shaadi-Shudha" (Much married) !! Nevertheless, going beyond, Ana Hindi has remained the most important Arab phrase I have ever learnt. It's not only a get out of jail card, but a no need to go to jail card. The love for Indian and Indian culture is amazing. Whether its police on the highway checking your papers, or an acquaintance at a Bar or a Bank, the image of our film stars singing around a fire, or a tree has made our lives easier in this wonderful country. And when Jamila suggested that we needed to own a house of our own - we didn't hesitate to agree to pick up a farm land plot, not far from Myrahsinne , just below the hills, marginally closer to Meknes town, and yet not far from my in laws home. 

The Dar - "Lets build a small maintainable house", ...and I remember the arguments starting -. Now, when a Moroccan builds a house - they literally start with "below the ground up" - You HAVE to HAVE a basement, "a cave" - that's where everyone presumably lives when its hot, cold, snowing or raining -  the basement is where family stories are shared - daily experiences, from as wickedly-hilarious as about an unliked neighbour slipping on a banana peel, breaking their legs or as serious as a neighbours wedding. Whatever the triviality or 'enormity' -  laughter escapes literally battling to be heard above the rest of the cacophony - untrained ears may mistake this for a dispute and screaming - and you may be right more than occasionally. But a house without a basement isn't a home. 

Now the basement and its store room and kitchen are all planned, however, access to the  basement - will take you past the "Salon Moroccan" - the opulence filled living room - full Moroccan style - a large hall with colourful cushioned seats hugging the perimeter of the entire salon - all around. The ceiling has to have the intricate traditional trellis work - done in plaster of paris or in carved wood for the more opulent homes. The Salon Marocain will have several round tables on wheels on its carpeted floor. Covered with beautiful round embroidered table cloth, each of them have a plastic cover. These tables are where friends, guests, family sit around and have their family meals served in large centrally placed tajines or vessels - where every one eats out of - while a self-designated matronly (or motherly - to confirm that it out of pure love) head around each of these tables, will divide the meat or pieces of chicken, share a sauce and egg each person around that particular table to do justice to the meal. The plastic sheet protects the exquisite table cloth, and is so practical while clearing up - especially since the bones and non edible stuff is left on the table. Fruit is served after the meal - and the selection of fruits is amazing too - Figs, Melons, Oranges, Grapes, Dried Fruits, Walnuts, Pomegranate, and even Mangoes.. 

And back to the house, look across the Marocain Salon, and since most Moroccan homes have connections with Europe, you have to have a modern "Salon European" as well - modern fire place warming several leather sofa sets.  Depending on the your guest, they either sit in the Salon Marocain or European. Both are equally large and comfortable with large windows. 

Obviously to ensure that these large salons can be filled with people and fed as well, a large kitchen is a must. While bulk cooking would be done in the basement  kitchen, a large modern kitchen is also required. Size and style matter - and with a spouse who cooks very well and a daughter who does equally, the detail requirements for our kitchen are exhaustive. I must admit that as an enthusiastic user of the kitchen - I have no objections -

A request to have a study and office-cum-bar was met with an obviously invisible scant disregard.  And eventually a room, smaller than I expected, but rather cosy was conceded - and that in itself was a victory - for it is not often that the Moroccan family will concede space to an out of the box infringement. One bedroom at this mid level claimed by Jamila for us and three bedroom upstairs have all been claimed/bequeathed to each of the kids.. And each of the bedrooms have a walk in closet followed by a modern shower, all together forming quite an imposing house - with this wide marble staircase providing a Taj like connections between basement to principal floor and to the bedrooms.. 

As happens in Morocco, the design and contractor are cousins or distant relatives, with a very firm knowledge of regulations, construction and dos and donts. And yet the basis of their firm responses disappear when asked for concrete plans. But building this, on a fairly remote farmland, during a covid year, with several people falling ill (including the main contractor), full credit goes to Jamila for being able to monitor the work, order the material and ensure that work went on. Without wanting to complain, it was on several occasions that we watched Zootopias famous sloth scene and found near parallels at the speed of work of the very regular yet easy paced workmen. And while taking up the painful process of looking at detail, Jamila has sworn never to oversee building a house again - and while the most important part of making over a house into a home remain. Lights, Water and a few other critical construction items like the windows remain - and then will start our furnishing - design, colour discussions remain - then beds, curtains, carpets, furniture, gadgets, equipment - landscaping will be our final push - before Dar Meknes becomes a livable home.

2. Dar Fajara (Gambia) - Something that we have never considered as seriously as after our daughter, Rehane, not surprisingly declared she would want to settle or have a base in The Gambia - with most of her friends opting to do the same - atleast  - we thought, sighing a sigh of relief at this sensible decision, our grown up 18 year old (then) (20 year old now)  - was boldly asserting - establishing her presence in our family chain! Gradually have noticed that every decision we take, gets buck-stopped at our daughters check-point. We have, unsuccessfully been trying to buy the rented house we live in for the last 24 years. And have recently tried to find a plot of land in Fajara - where we have lived all our lives in The Gambia - in this house - since 1999.  The first decision to move - from what has become home and a comfort zone for us, the relatively quieter location at Fajara, to "OUT" (Rehanes monosyllable for things that develop at a faster, more modern pace - like abroad..in developed countries - she terms the development at Burusubi past the turn-table - as a place closer to OUT - if you get what I mean. Therefore, we jump at acquiring a plot at the beachside area of Brufut heights - to build our dream home. The family decides to approach a Spanish architect  - an artist architect and quite well known for the swanky designs of several edifices in The Gambia - but he makes a few statements - that since he doesn't do homes anymore and has limited time, he would do this one as a favour for us under a few conditions - that once we decide to build, it must be seamless progress - so that the colours and tints and finer parts that he dreams and places on paper - remain fresh in his mind - So Ram, dont come back after I have started the drawings - to ask for major changes - once approved - we need to go right through till we get the concrete done - thereafter he says you can take a break and then the finishing work starts and should go through - mobilising workers is another reason he prefers to use this 2 stage plan. We agreee, and give him the go ahead for the basic designs. Jamila is stuck in Morocco at this moment - with Dar Meknes and since RAM has suspended flights. the first drawings are just WOW - and we request a few cosmetic swaps on positions of rooms - and after getting a WOW from Jamila too - the go ahead is given. I remember the architects words - Ram, dont call me for a Vodka to the Vineyard and ask for changes. We have already paid the advance for the drawings and his services.

The next day I call the architect, "Can we meet at the Vineyard for a Vodka" I hear myself, after we have - after a long search for a plot here,finally find a plot - and the decision to go with our original preference - a home in Fajara. We have just seen, identified and decided to buy a plot in Fajara - a quartier so difficult to get free land. The architect was clearly not happy  - since the new Fajara plot we understand is about 20 x 60 m - about 10 m narrower - and therefore - design adjustments will be required. He reluctantly agrees to visit the new plot with us and takes a measuring tape - and that creates our next hurdle - an accurate measurement shows we have bought a plot that measures s18.3m x 58m - Only solace is that it is in FAJARA. The architect is clearly not as enthused as I am. The family has safely resigned to the fact that its my decision to build in Fajara 

We have now waited for 15 days since the architect measured the plot and agreed to re-design - or atleast see how we can retain the original design with minimal changes. 

As I resume this blog after 2 years, I must update that the construction of Dar Gambia is now over - the concrete work is over, and several Vodka moments later, we now await the Aluminium and glass shipments - thanks to Putin and Zelensky and the Houthis, and Netanyahu and Hamas and other global disputes, our shipments have been delayed, with escalation of costs too. Rehane has just made a trip to Dakar to look at some bathroom fixtures. I presume we will have to wait a further six months before we are likely to be handed the keys to Dar Gambia

A quick update on Dar Meknes is that most of the furnishing is done, and we await the much awaited water connection - pipe have been laid and the Govt just needs to provide meters and turn the taps on. The numerous trees planted have started growing and should be a lovely orchard in a few years.

Originally written on 5th May, 2022

Continued on 18th October, 2024

Its been awhile...I wonder why?

 A you tube debate on friendship- between someone called Simon (never heard of him before) and Trevor Noah - brought me to a blog I had written on Friends & Friendship about 14 years ago, (https://dustbin-by-ram.blogspot.com/2010/06/friends.html) possibly before Trevor & Simon contemplated debating or discussing the subject.... Received a couple of encouraging comments from "friends" that I had forwarded both - mine and Trevors viewpoints - ... when I just realised that despite having written numerous blog posts since 2008 or 2009 - I seem to have gone off the radar since 2020. 4 years and I haven't had the urge to write - I wonder why. Was it the Covid years - but contrary to this - Covid launched many work from home bloggers and authors - so Covid couldn't be a reason for my deep-freezing the writer in me.

As I ponder in deep thought, for a reason, I presume I must have been pre occupied with many other things. I guess Covid in a way was responsible for making my life a lot more busier. .. 

Consular work has definitely played a role - and with all the very deeply intriguing stuff going on at community level, I could have filled up several Games of Thrones like episodes...Alas all that transpired is off limits for my blogs.- but definitely features as one of the prime suspects in my who-done-it quest.

Another reason is probably that I have given up ( virtually) on using a lap top or a pad, and have unburdened myself of carrying my laptop when I travel. and when I look back - despite Covid, I have never travelled as much in my life compared to the last few years. And blogging for me has always been on the laptop. 

I wonder if this affects other bloggers as well. My acquisition of my Samsung Ultra 24 and the earlier marriage with Samsungs Note series from the 4 to 8, the 10 and 20 prior to their discontinuing with the Note series had already strained my relationship with my Laptop ... and as well with my Canon D7 SLR - that I eventually bequeathed to an online magazine who produced far more vibrant pictures than I ever did. The Samsung Smartphones had alienated me from Laptops and SLR Cameras.

Until a few hours ago - 

So here I am, typing away - I must say far more energized than when I started this blog. I've just had a real pleasant surprise - I have been a great fan and follower of Shashi Tharoor. I have written of my admiration for his work and how I came about to have a few meetings with him (https://dustbin-by-ram.blogspot.com/2017/10/recent-travel-rewards-meeting-friends.html) 

Earlier this year (2024), when he won his seat in Thiruvananthapuram for a record 4th consecutive term, against a formidable opponent, I sent him a congratulatory message to which he did respond with a thank you note. Encouraged, I sent him one of my blogs on Kerala and our Civic sense on the roads, (https://dustbin-by-ram.blogspot.com/2015/01/the-great-gods-own-country-roadway.html)..and imagine to my utter delight - had a very nice short whatsapp message that he indeed liked the blog!! I was and still am over the moon. 

Thank you Shashi. I am now back on the laptop and hope this inspiration drives me to continue blogging.

Friday, 18th October - an overcast day in Banjul, but the sun is shining over me. 

Just Another Day - 23rd April 2019

Our daughter just turned 18 

And I'm unable to fathom my emotions 

We were coincidentally watching some old home movies last night with friends Farida and Aftab, visiting us in The Gambia after over 10 years, and stumbled on some other old videos from 10 to 12 years ago, with Rehane as an 8 year old, dancing away at a New Years party in Cape Skirring.. and memories flooded back.

This little active sprightly baby of ours, has turned 18! Do I look worried or am I thrilled 😅😅😅. Of course I'm thrilled. Overjoyed.

I fondly remember her birth with Dr. Bahsoun informing me that the good news was that it was a baby girl, and luckily didn't resemble me!!

Shes 18. Its sinking in.

That teenager milestone that governments acknowledge and confirm that you've grown!! 

Yet I have always felt that this one passed that milestone quite a few years ago. 

Be it learning to drive, or travelling overseas independently, or engaging in activities or conversations with people far older than her, or cooking, not just for survival, but good cooking, food for friends. She loved snails and oysters and local west african ebeh and fufu, a widespread array of tastes that many of us adults would cringe from.

She's been doing all the above for quite some time. 

She jumped off an aircraft, sky-dived when she was barely 12, overcame a fear of eating while flying, just by doing it herself. She learnt swimming when barely a year old, swam in freezing waters around Vigo before she was 12.

She spoke and speaks fluent Arabic, English, French, Wolof and dabbled with Hindi Gujarati and other languages.. though prefers yakking away in Wolof in the company of her diverse Gambian, Hungarian, Lebanese friends. 

Her love for music - from being a persistent 1D fan, getting me to listen, like their music and travel to London for a live 1D performance, most of my music collection today is from her. 

Shes been good to very good at academics, despite having parents who never did push her.. excelled in extra curricular activities and has always made us proud as parents. Her love for design, clothes and especially shoes has been consistent. Her painting skills have always been noticed and her steady hand while applying henna, earning good pocket money, has reassured us that she would never be strapped for cash in life. 

Well behaved at other peoples parties, and a help and friend to her friends,  her ability to keep friends for long is encouraging.

Ofcourse, she's imbibed a headstrong attitude from her parents, and a pretty short temper too. ..😅. Adamant and stubborn too - never did and vehemently refuses to learn to cycle, but has liked riding pillion on my motor bikes, though defiant while asked to wear a helmet, lest it infringe with her hair-do.... .. But then those are traits that we adults have.

So though my daughter turns 18 today, shes been an adult a long time ago! 

Happy Birthday Babes😍😍😍

We must be Stupid

On Corruption, The Media -Social & Un-social, Religion and Politics - a Nexus?

Have been in India for a far longer duration than I've been before, and the more I try to follow the news and trends of Indian politics, the more I'm convinced that we, the people are plain Stupid, Dumb or CRAZY. Scroll down on your Social media app and try to peep into the world of politics and news, and it gets worse. 

We get 'stupider..if that's a word I can use. 

This is not about being pro BJP, pro or anti Modi, pro or anti the Congress or for that matter the AAP. 

This is about our being gullible enough to swallow all that's being spewed out by our politicians and our television channels.

I try and scavenge some logic with my old mates, and I find that were polarized too!! Extremely, at that. The debates among friends have become toxic. Quite often, the toxicity and depth of discussion, breaks up very old friendships!!

The politics in Tamil Nadu have always been cinematic, and that's the least one can say. But reality today is far more sinister and melodramatic than our script writers of yesteryear ever did script!! M N Nambiar and M R Radha seem like the fore-tellers, Nostradamus' warning us, in their celluloid days, of today.

The heights of blatant corruption that our politicians have risen to would make the Everest seem a molehill!

Scams of "Lakhs of Crores of Rupees" have literally become catch-phrases of the magnitude of corruption we have learnt to become numb to. How much is one Lakh Crore Rupees? 
1,00,000 x 100,00,000 gives me a figure of 10,00,00,00,00,000 Rupees.
I don't even know where to fix the commas(separators) anymore!! 

Maybe a conversion into the more conventional will help! 
1,000,000,000,000 Rupees is One Thousand Billion Rupees. 
If we do convert this astronomical figure into an international currency (No, the Rupee isn't there as yet, even though we claim we are among them!!), it gives us a figure of US$150,000,000,000 (150 Billion US Dollars).

150 BILLION US DOLLARS!! 

And that's 1(ONE) Lakh Crore Rupees!!! 

With several scams  in our country, each qualifying easily, with several hundreds or thousands of crores Rupees,  and a few close to or even surpassing the magical ONE Lakh Crore, we, the people, must be really crazy to imagine that our politicians will ever let go without a slice of the cake.

We're the Worlds largest growing Democracy. This cloak of democracy encourages us to believe that we have chosen these leaders and thus they work for our ideals. The old adage that you get the leaders you deserve, resigns us to this, almost like Karma, that mystic future that you're destined to bear because of an even more mysterious past life!! We accept anything if a mystic spiritual explanation is offered. Just as we take bribing gods for favours to the next level when we do the same in our daily life.

This very ridiculous presumption that any political leader actually gets to perform only as his constituency wants is a dream that we will only dream about and never see in reality. If we believe that todays crop of politicians are our karmic payback, I or we must have had a very "sinful" or colourful past life!!

Where are we heading? 

Vote Banks? Note Banks! Reservation Cards!! Reservations were meant to uplift the downtrodden by giving them an opportunity to get on par with the rest of the country. The Opportunists (our political masters) have not only twisted the whole raison-d'etre of reservations into a monopoly of political and monetary gain, but have not just extended the duration of this Reservation, year after year , the scope of reservation, increasingly covers more and more communities, that very soon those not covered under reservation will become a minority.. All this while our nation regresses. 

We're literally watching as one of India's most affluent communities is fighting for reservation too, on the accepted pretext of having been marginalized for many years. The Patels, one of our most wealthy communities, with amazing financial success the world over, have recently joined the fray and fight for reservation in India. And the political bosses have immediately, jumped on the bandwagon, realizing that they command an affluent vote bank. Successfully disrupting lives and infrastructure, they are led on to fight for a cause that was created to bring those who didn't have, to par. 

Were lowering the bar to bring par down. Lowering the standard to accommodate. 

There seems to be a complete lack of innovation. Jugaad has become a national heritage rather than a drive to improve and create. 

Make in India will remain a slogan , just as Garibi Hatao only helped move the poor away than move poverty away.

The Minorities have become vote bank majorities. The Backward Castes and Classes have grown being fed by vote seeking politicians. The poor have become a larger group, the middle class is mesmerized and continues to grow. Our billionaires have only gotten further away. 

When will we wake up from this? How can we wake up and correct this ?

A paradigm shift is required.. in thought,, in politics.. and thus mass media is required  - but what does one do when the mass media itself is mired in this mess. Where media is a part or even possibly the root cause of the problem itself. 

Does Social media have the possibility to rally the common man? It may be too late. Social media started off as a watch dog on the main stream media. But ever since the idea to use Fake media to discredit legitimate social media has caught on, thanks to Donald Trump, social media has proven to be effectively disruptive and worse, un-controllable.

Raise an issue and you're trolled and in no time. You're the perpetrator. The publicity shy common man either is bought or is shoved out, hounded out until the movement is stifled in its path.Take the current debate on Television. On fake nationalism debates being virtually fabricated by the television channels. And the channel is now trying to make it a debate inviting radicals from all sides to make slanderous comments. The comments are then edited or carefully chosen to incite and scrolled as Breaking news segments flashing discotheque like on the screen...the debate turns into an argument. Voices raised, barbs are spewed out, and the negative comments then are highlighted by the same media as anti national comments. Violence spills out from the studios to the streets, giving them more fodder for the ever TRP hungry channels. 

A vicious cycle indeed. 

A political party. The laws say must have no criminal record. Yet one finds that come elections, rules are twisted and tickets given to tainted thugs. 

The Election Commission says No Sops before elections. Yet giving sops before elections is the national pastime. blatant misuse of state machinery for political mileage. And this is not just the current political dispensation. This has been a mutually accepted practice executed to perfection by every political party to some extent or the other. This has become worse than the doping scandal in cycling. Everyone cheats. 

And I wonder why, the moment I say 'çheat', I think of  religion!! Godmen have been in our news. for the deceit, sleaze and everything else that we were taught were the evils of social and civil behavior. And yet they thrive. The blind faith by multitudes, despite the exposes, is quite frightening, and is why I wonder if we're stupid.

We have learnt well from our British colonizers. Divide and rule was what we were taught was the manner in which the British kept us fighting among ourselves, hoping that we would forget about the colonizers and this ploy almost succeeded. 

Gandhi brought about a paradigm shift in the manner we reacted and thus we were able to achieve freedom. But no longer than our Colonizers left, did our politicians get rid of Gandhi and his influence dwindled. Overtaken by greed for power and money, we have once again sunk into the depths of the trap.

Will we find another Gandhi? Not one just in name (for heavens sake), but one in Principle. 

Until then, we remain regressive, puppet-like and stupid.

Ram Mohan

Depressed on the state of media and politics.

Chennai October 2017

Unanswered & Unasked Questions - Who Killed Hemraj?

The headlines have been blaring looking for an answer to Who Killed Arushi Talwar, and my brother in law Col. Muralidhar, while writing an article, asked, "What about Hemraj"? It hadn't really struck me earlier that these were actually two murders. It had always been all about Arushi-Hemraj, conjoining them or concentrating on Arushi alone, if you went by the news headlines!!

After 9 years, the Talwars have just been released (not exonerated, just released!) due to the lack of evidence and a botched up investigation. The TV headlines and anchors scream that they want justice. Arnab Goswami (ugh!) goes into his usual verbal diatribe (I'd say verbal-diarrhoea!), with 16 panellists, only there as a virtual noise contributing audience, listening to what he (Arnab) distastefully spews out. Some of the other channels are less outrageous, but the garish vulgar display of Breaking News Headlines and multiple screens hypnotise us as we try and concentrate and read the F1 style titles whizzing past making more noise than the real thing. 

Within this mayhem, a very sensible calm and composed interview (apparently a Saeed Naqvi) on one channel from 2011 with the Talwars gives them an opportunity to plead their innocence and argue some of the circumstantial evidence that virtually nailed them in what was more a Television Court in front of an "ever-hungry-for-sensationalism-Indian-audience".

Back to reality, here was a live version of Crime-Patrol. TRPs sky rocketing without even having to pay the actors or produce a serial. Anchors feasted on the liberty to fling insinuations, accusations and character aspersions with aplomb, almost like Sachin Tendulkar being given a fielder-less field against a bowler. The Talwars had absolutely no chance defending against this barrage.

But then the googly that my BIL bowled with his question had us skimming through the channels and articles, questioning the lack of questions and answers to "Who killed Hemraj"? 

Was the importance of the death of Hemraj any lesser than that of Arushi?

Why wasn't there a separate investigation?

This was almost as though conjoint twins had been murdered!

Another human beings' life was taken, within the same premises, and possibly in a similar manner as that of Arushi Talwar, and yet the media and the courts were investigating the murder of Arushi Talwar. Who killed Arushi-Hemraj asked some channels pre determining that it was a single investigation.

Hemraj seemed to be an incidental murder and thanks to the media attention, seemed to be completely side-lined.

Almost collateral damage.

Has a possibility that Hemraj killed Arushi and subsequently was killed by the Talwars been examined?

Were both murders committed at the same time?

Many questions remain un-asked, let alone un-answered!

And then the role of the first investigators at the crime scene? The botch up by the Police for not securing the scene.

Has the CBI or the High Court pulled up the officers involved?
Will they take action against them for not securing the crime scene?

In my view the mess up by the Police has created this situation, and to this lengthy pathetic exhibition on incompetency and thus lack of justice for the deceased persons.

The killing of Hemraj should have been investigated separately.

The Talwars have been released, and rightly so, due to the lack of evidence, from a legal point of view.

The CBI will no doubt want to absolve themselves of failure. They will have to go to the Supreme Court, prolonging this already prolonged agony, of all involved, irrespective of innocence or guilt.

In my opinion, the Supreme court should correct the mishaps conducted by the investigative agencies, rather than re-trying the case on the merits of a completely otherwise, erroneous investigation.

Question the Police and hold them responsible for answers on "Who killed Hemraj", and then probably we will have more light on who killed Arushi.

Ram
Chennai on a prolonged break
2017 October 13th ...a Friday the 13th.. Watching Indian Media Sensationalism on Television!

The Gambia Tourism Forum

Kumpo - Typical Jola Masquerade

The Gambia is a tiny country in West Africa. 11,000 Sq Kilometers, encompassed on three sides within Senegal, and the Atlantic Ocean on the West with a river (The Gambia, which lends its name to this lovely country that has become home to me and many others and friendly people.

The Gambia is a Tourist destination, primarily for Europeans escaping the harsh winters for the warmth of the beaches and river and people of The Gambia. Known for its beaches, friendly people and relatively economical tour packages rather than "Wild Life" that Africa is generally known for. The Gambia is a safe country, unlike most of the other destinations in Africa that are for the far more adventurous tourist. But there is a little hiccup to making tourism a wholly dependable revenue and year around employment avenue for The Gambia.

Tourism is seasonal.

Cape Point Beach - Approaching Storm

The multitudes of tourists disappear once the summer sets in, preferring the mild warmth in Europe to the humidity and heat or rainfall in tropical west Africa. Hotels as well as Restaurants, shut-down or run with skeleton staff as soon as the last tourist flight leaves. Employment drops, leaving scores of staffers looking for means to sustain themselves and families "off-season". 

I'd love The Gambia to become a year round destination... Its got so much more to offer than just traditional tourism.. Most visitors develop friendships and if I may say 'familyships' too!

The Gambia has the most 'Repeat' tourists who come year after year gradually altering their status from Tourist to Resident .. and the numbers, though rather insignificant in World Tourism Figures, are highly significant considering the size of the country and its per capita impact.

As a resident in The Gambia since 1998, I would love to see tourism figures ever increase. While first time tourists can have an insight into what to expect from The Gambia based on everyones experience, I do feel that just as each persons fingerprint or footprint leaves a different mark, each of your experiences would be different, and changes from person to person, and from situation to situation. I feel its all about expectations. the more we expect, the more likely are we likely to have experiences based on a pre conceived expectation!

Do gather all the information you want from Tourist forums, but try your best to have your own experience. The Gambia is a wonderful country with a wonderful people. Like any other country, you will have positives and negatives. Good people and not so good people. The Good in the Gambia by far outweighs the negatives. Come in with expectations and you will have let downs for sure.

Our endeavour here on Tourist Forums is to try and add to your experience and not to try and create or influence it. Were not the experts but are experienced. Don't hesitate to call on anyone here to ask questions when in doubt. We can give you an insight based on our experience, but would rather you came here and developed your own experience. As with every foreign destination, follow basic norms and you wont be taken by surprise. a few of them that come to my mind are

 -  understand local customs and cultures 

 -  try and learn and imbibe local culture rather than impose yours

 -  trust takes time and take time to develop your trust circle

 - the cheapest solution is not necessarily the best... and neither is the more expensive a guarantee of being good.

 - walk away from arguments 

 - Try and avoid flaunting anything (money, weight, exposure, knowledge....)

 -  if you'd like to be charitable, try and ensure it is compassionate but yet sustainable. What I mean to say is that do try and ensure it doesn't make anyone depend on your charity for life. Try and make them self supporting in the long run.

The above are from my personal experience, as a resident and having watched and observed tourists for over 20 years. We have over 40 staff members in The Gambia and have virtually only positive stories to tell.

Having said that, I personally am not in the league of tourists (to The Gambia, but do live here, and thus may not understand some of the nuances of your queries. There's no dearth of experienced tourists on this forum. I thank Kieran Roy Sudworth and the other Admins of the Gambia Tourism Forum on Facebook for this platform and in their own way contributing to Tourism to develop the Economy that The Gambia has so much more potential to grow.


Ram Mohan
October 13th, 2017
Chennai - waiting to get back home

Recent Travel Rewards - Meeting Friends and Heroes

I love my travelling. 

Over the years I have realised that while I may have enjoyed visiting new places, it's people and retaining connections with them that has meant a lot more to me. The joy of connection is 'aboundless'.

Meeting up with friends since our kindergarten days, brings about an intense satisfaction that I am unable to describe. Thus an affiliation with the Internet and social media has been evident. The world wide web has largely contributed towards reconnecting me with friends from an era that would have mocked the very thought of the advances that communication has made. 

What brings me to write about it now? 

I've just had another of those amazing 'connecting' trips while travelling from Banjul to Dubai and Chennai. Caught up with good friends in Mumbai and then in Dubai too. 

Yesterday, however, in Chennai was the icing on the cake! Having been invited for Lunch by Bharat and Bhakti, friends from The Gambia in 2001, was both thrilled and honoured to find myself as a co-guest with Shashi Tharoor and Vijay Amritraj. Both need no introductions.

I was first introduced to Shashi Tharoor by my father in 1992. When I say introduced, I'd have loved to have met him then, but it was one of his books that my Dad, an avid reader and professor of english, presented to me as I flew off to Africa. 'The Great Indian Novel', a hilarious satire, intertwining wit and humour into a narrative of the Mahabharata had me ( and my Dad) in stitches on several ocassions as we read passages together. I instantly became a Shashi Tharoor fan. I had been a book fan for years, devouring Enid Blytons, James Hadley Chases, Sidney Sheldons and Wilbur Smiths as I grew up. Sudden and Perry Masons wove westerns and court dramas with equal aplomb, into my imaginative pastimes. I met Paul Theroux and his son Marcel in Chennai, and my interest in his witty and often sarcastic travelogues garnished my reading apetite. I already was an avid fan of humour. Mad magazine had for long whetted a wildly humourous bent in me. Honed by Goscinny & Uderzos Asterix & Obelix, the adventures of TinTin and Snowy, the 'forever-thirsty-for-alcohol' Capt Haddock, and the fumbling twin detectives Thomson and Thompson, I imagine, characterised my literary interest as I grew up. The introduction to Shashi Tharoor in 1992 was in a way an awakening that Indians could write with flavour and aplomb too. A brief flirtation with Chetan Bhagat began with his Five Point Someone which was later filmed as "3 Idiots" and I recall a controversial debate followed. However, my interest in Chetan dwindled when I heard Chetan speak on television. I however found that character and language from his writing eloquence, magically disappeared the moment he spoke. I haven't been able to since convince myself that Chetan, the author, is the same Chetan, the orator or speaker. And this once again was when my admiration for Shashi Tharoor went up a few notches. I do remember continuing to pick books at random trying out newer authors and I must mention here that my most recent 'wide-eyed literary crush' has been for an extremely talented Roopa Pai, whose "Gita for Children" blew me away with her fluency and use of easy writing skills. I picked up this book purely by chance, for a friend recuperating in a Hyderabad Hospital. Her writing skills and wordplay with simple understandable language, reminded me immediately of a Shashi Tharoorish tact of flirtatiously inviting the reader to read the next sentence. The writers skills make you want to get to the last page without letting the book down. I have since made it a practice to acquire a number of copies of my favourite books and offer them as prizes or gifts to the kids of friends - and have found this practice far more redeeming than gifting anything else. 

My 'forever-interest' in Tharoors writing received a reward in 2006 when the African Union Summit Conference was being hosted by The Gambia. I, as Honorary Consul General of India was asked to make arrangements for a high powered team from India, who were backing a candidature for the Secretary Generalship of the UN. No guesses as to who that candidate was,  Shashi Tharoor himself, He had been invited to present his case to the AU Head of States Summit, along with the other candidates. Shashi Tharoor was an Under Secretary General with the UN. 

For three days, I enjoyed hosting Shashi Tharoor and the rest of our delegation. On the last day of his stay in The Gambia, just before he left, I learnt that my ailing father had passed away in India. I and my daughter flew off to India. It was ironical that the author Dad got me to read when I left india in 1992, was with me in The Gambia when Dad passed away in 2006.

Shashi, in my opinion, had easily won the AU vote with powerful multilingual speeches presented to the Heads of State.  I vividly remember him receiving a standing ovation for his presentation, while Ban Ki Moon made a very ordinary, limp, virtually read out presentation. The US probably vetoed their choice in exchange for proximity to North Korea. We can see where that has led us to in another blog here on US and its state of politics. I have no doubt that the world would have genuinely been a far more safer place with someone like him at the helm. His oratory prowess was something that I had just seen first hand for the first time. Unlike Chetan, I could easily connect Shashi the author and Shashi the orator as being the same person.

I had by then several of his books and before leaving The Gambia, had a personal autograph on my copy of "India - Midnight to the Millennium" which I treasure till today. A few months or a year later, Shashi Tharoor left the UN and joined the world of Indian Politics. He joined the Congress party. And then to my absolute delight, he was appointed Minister of State for Foreign Affairs with direct charge of Africa. Just imagine my joy when our Foreign Minister invited all Honorary Consuls to meet in Delhi on the sidelines of the CII India Africa Conclave. I was over the moon.

Thereafter, there were occasional tweets and exchanges between Shashi Tharoor and  me. I got into blogging, convinced that even if anyone didn't read your writings, it helped you lay your thoughts out and your could revisit your thoughts anytime. I took to tweeting too, as did many politicians following the example set by Shashi.

Twitter Responses

Tweeting, unfortunately, and I add, an inability to understand his language and decipher his sense of humour within simple phrases brought about his tenure as Foreign Minister to a premature and unfortunate end. The very eloquence that made him a success in the literary world, became a thorn in his political world. I remember having arguments with friends politically aligned with the new powers in town tried to comment on how Tharoor wasn't someone with India at heart. He was a UN product and an elitist, they insisted. The comments were quite shocking for me, who having read Tharoors books long before he became a politician, knew more about India and its history. India, Midnight to the Millennium is enough proof of his love for India, Kerala and Cricket. I was very easily able to counter the argument that he was involved in cricket as a opportunist - Ever since I have known and followed him, he was and is a cricket buff and lover. I remember hosting him in Banjul at a reception for the Indian Community and while the large crowd was eager to speak to him and have photographs taken, he was more eager to check the score of an India cricket match that was playing live. The unfortunate and sordid aftermath of his wifes passing away, no doubt under a cloud, was already faulty in my opinion when many ignoramuses questioned his love for cricket and the country as possible evidence of guilt. I advise his critics, do read his writings, written long before he became a politician, before you try and analyse his personal life. 

with Vijay Amritraj

And here I was , In Chennai, speaking to dear friend Bharat Joshi, the very popular, effective and significant Deputy High Commissioner of the UK in Chennai, when he invited me for a lunch, with Shashi and Vijay. I still cant wipe that grin off my face and remain every thankful to Bharat for this meeting. Not only did we have a close chat with my literary idol, Shashi Tharoor, but I did get to meet a childhood sports hero and champion, The A of the ABC of Tennis from the 1970s. Easily the most sporting of sports persons that I have known, a thorough gentleman and a celebrity in today's world. Vijay Amritraj meets world leaders and presents a view of his encounters with them - from hours spent with Narendra Modi, to his proximity to the Bush family, and a long meeting with Donald Trump, his accounts on these memorable encounters could have taken hours if not days. And once again, a many years ago meeting, as a child in NDA, Khadakwasla, I recalled, standing in line to have an autograph from Vijay when he and his brother Anand played an exhibition match, way back in the 70s. Meeting him 40 years later on a one-to-one basis, this was an over-the-top, extraordinary afternoon for me.

The Delicious Veg Gujarati Thali

Alas as all good things having to find an end, Shashi had to attend three more events before his departure back to Delhi. Vijay too had to fly out, back to the US. All this in the amazing setting of Cottingley House, a UNESCO property that houses the High Commissioners residence in Chennai We had one of the most delicious vegetarian Gujarati meals, we all agree, we have ever had. Bhakti and Bharat inform us that Cottingley House is 100% vegetarian. Bharat is British of Indian descent and is probably one of the youngest British Ambassadors. Certainly the most dynamic ones I have met. He and the family are complete vegetarians. Thus irrespective of who the guest is, the food is always vegetarian. And this discussion on a British of Indian descent representing the Queen in India, led us to discus Tharoors latest book and the issues that it, "An Inglorious Empire" (Or "An Era of Darkness" as it is titled in other markets, covers. The book is a detailed argument by Tharoor on the attrocities committed by the British Empire, and the reluctance of the UK to ever acknowledge or teach colonial history to its citizens,  are discussed in an atmosphere of absolute amicability. The mood is refreshingly humorous as we depart. A British Flag car is dropping Shashi to his next appointment.

I still cannot just wipe the grin off my face. What a weekend.

RIP - Epitaphs and Emotions

Rest in Peace

I don't know whether it's just me, or a far more common human tendency that afflicts others too.

These thoughts flood my mind as I read and try to conjure up an epitaph for Dr Selvi Jayalalita Jayaram, or Amma as she has been known in her more recent political rebirth.

There's no doubt that Jayalalita was an iconic politician. Surviving and thriving in the mayhem that makes Indian politics, virtually side-stepping and beating every charge and 'shastra' thrown at her, except that of an eventual medical condition, that despite all her political and financial acumen, she couldn't dodge.

There's absolutely no doubt that she was a master strategist; knew where she could fuel her campaign and evoke mass response. Her ability to be blatantly corrupt, beat the charges and use state machinery for benevolent political gain within the vote banks, would survive only possibly only in a nation that accepts corruption at the highest level of our inner selves.

We Indians have got so used to "bribery" towards our Gods, of offerings in exchange for favours, be it the 'the passin of the hat' or a 'hundi', we ask for unimaginable favours from our invisible Gods...  we seem to have grown to accept the same from our deified politicians.

As much as we despise corruption, we seem to participate in it willingly.

And as I read Facebook posts expressing sympathy on the passing away of one of the strongest women  in Indian politics, I wonder if these thoughts about corruption and the case she was frequently summoned under, the case of 'disproportionate assets', will ever be replaced by genuine sympathy.

As I sit and weigh these thoughts here in The Gambia, where we too have had an overwhelming change and result in the recent election, I hope I am not being insensitive to the feelings and emotionsof her supporters. All her life we have admired her and have yet abhorred her politics. But am somehow drawn to empathise on her passing.  

I don't know if I can understand myself anymore. 

Until I do

RIP Jayalalita

Lakh & Crores

Lakhs & Crores

India is going through one of the most debated financial turmoils that could transform India either way. By demonetizing 70 to 80% of its currently used currency notes with a view to combating black money and striking at tax-evaders, the underworld, hoarders and terrorist organisations all in one go, the Government seems to be fighting an uphill battle to see that the move doesn't accentuate the pain on an ever growing number of its middle class and poor, who suddenly find themselves in never ending queues waiting endlessly for the Good days that has been promised. The opposition makes merry during this difficult period for the government.

I observe this from my perch in Africa, slightly distant from the turmoil. Not directly affected, but certainly concerned as business associates predict uncertain times.

While listening to arguments from both the pro demonetization, pro Modi lobby and the opposition, have been hearing of huge sums of money being either squandered or lost or recovered (depending on which side of the argument we hear from)

But living overseas has also highlighted another problem ... One of an Indian attitude of simple ignorance!

I've always wondered, when have we adopted these denominations of numbers "Lakhs & Crores"!! . I'm sure it's somewhere from our rich, deep culture from our glorious past, and am equally convinced that they'll continue to haunt us in our promised glorious future too.

While in India, it seemed most natural to hear of Lakhs and Crores of Rupees (and of the days of Lakhpatis & Crorepatis - (quite funnily pronounced "corrode-pathis"!! referring to an equivalent to Millionaire& Billionaire clubs),  I'm often fuddled at how, when we Indians travel overseas, we continue to use these rather 'exclusive to India' denominations to express monetary figures,  thus, most often leaving the foreign listener completely oblivious to the financial implications of the discussion.

And keeping in view, that we're considered the new financial whiz guys on the block, listeners nod in awe with all respect, possibly comprehending nothing.

I remember, recently, an Indian team of Experts training an African Chamber of Commerce on the importance of Export documentation procedures.. and every example they gave, highlighted profits and losses in "lakhs" and "crores" of dollars. The trainees went through the course with wide eyed seemingly dumbstruck awe.  The Training over, It was only when we questioned the team receiving training if they understood what these terms meant,  that did both the trainer and trainee realize the futility of the programme... all brought virtually to nought by our 'taken-for-granted-that-everyone-understands-us' attitude.

I wonder if we will ever be able to over come this and slowly merge with the internationally accepted norms of denomination.  Or, as has been happening over the last few decades, will we see Lakhs and Crores be accepted in English dictionaries ?  Or will the world of numbers and mathematics accept these terms as standard denomination for the future.

And while we aimlessly deliberate on the pros and cons of demonetisation... I'd like to clear the shroud of secrecy over this unique Indian denomination of demonetisation.

One hundred thousand is a Lakh

One Million is 10 Lakhs

Ten Million is 100 Lakhs or is a Crore!!

One Billion is 100 Crores!!

And what confounds even further is the unique placement of the separator, the comma,

One Lakh has 5 zeroes and is written like this : 1,00,000.

One Crore is 100 Lakhs and is written like this : 1,00,00,000.

HELP!

Monies deposited in Banks in the first few days of this Demonetisation drive was close to Fifty thousand Crore Rupees.!!!!

50,000 crores of Rupees is approximately 900 Crore Dollars or 9 Billion USD!!

I'm not sure how correct I am.. but it can't be too far away from "Loads of Money"!!!

Good quiz questions would be to ask 'How many zeroes are there in 50,000 Crore Rupees?', and here's the tougher one. 'How many separators (commas) are used?'

And until our Indian "implants" in Google (Sundar) and Microsoft (Satya) are able to inculcate these revolutionary numerical terms & indicators into common use internationally, trust readers will appreciate the education.

The Great "Gods Own Country" Roadway Experience

I am a Malayalee 

(for my slightly ignorant readers, Malayalam is the language and Malayalees are people from the state of Kerala in South India)

If I were to highlight a few things Malayalees are well known for, I'd be unfair and ostracised if I didn't mention Alcohol.  I'd be disrobed if I didn't mention the Lungi. But enough has been written of our prowess in consuming distillates of high calorific value and of this colourful attire of the lower male torso. Both are legendary and we shall 'skirt' the issue.

There are the other known factors on Kerala that bring in millions of tourists  - to visit our own 'Gods Own Country' - a slogan coined to describe our state - the land of Kathakali (a form of dance with masquerade), of Ayurveda - a form or art & science of traditional healing. The Backwaters. The bedecked Elephants and drummers at temple festivals... Kerala is truly Gods Own Country.

Well, in every aspect, except ONE!

We shall delve into the exception shortly, but at the same time would state that I am convinced that it's our apparent High Literacy and a few other things that make up our state and us, the people - the unique Malayalees of Kerala.

A humorous cartoon from the internet describing the high levels of literacy in Kerala

But there is another aspect of "Malayalee existence" that we often fail to mention -  probably because it just whizzes past us - Literally.

The Malayalee Civic Sense,
(Kerala remains one of the cleaner states in India) .

However this Civic Sense that we're quite famous for and proud about - suddenly disappears the moment we get into a car, onto a road and drive!!.

We regretfully remain champions in 'our utter incomprehensible inability to observe any civic sense on the roads'.

It is completely bewildering. Put a Malayalee in a car on a road and everything suddenly goes haywire. We do not respect road rules. We do not respect other road users. We don't know what speed limits mean. We drink (..and Oh Boy do we drink!!) and drive. The only thing we notice in Diageos advertisements against drinking and driving is the Brand Diageo!!  We not only speak loudly in public on roads, we also have this terrible impossible habit of 'horning' (horning is the same as honking) while driving. And some times while not driving too!!  And we have to Horn. Horn. Horn.

On an average, every Malayalee driver in Kerala uses a horn every 7.59 seconds (measured and calibrated in great earnest by the author of this blog, but is unable to provide any scientific reference!!). Stop at an intersection. Honk. Start the car. Honk. See a friend. Honk. See a policeman. Honk. No one on the road (which is in itself a rare occurrence). HONK! a Dog on the road. Honk. A bird in the Sky. HONK. Someone else Honks. HONK. Somone else doesn't honk. HONK the list of reasons to HONK is endless. HONK.

I've over the years, been convinced that the sound pollution in Kerala on roads exceeds every other kind of pollution - all combined!!

And thereby this humble Malayalee set out to try and figure out what could causes this inexplicable paradigm shift in the civic sense of the inhabitants of Gods Own Country.

And this research, has led me to believe that we actually are a special race, in a race.

Living in Gods Own Country, Malayalees have learnt every thing about the Gods - Their opulent lifestyle. The sumptuous feasts. The gold and jewellery bedecked spouses and Elephants. The Secrets of coconut and other essential oils and jasmine flowers with their almost aphrodisiacal properties. The damsels of Kerala, with their long flowing fragrant hair - (I briefly digress remembering Al Pacinos 'Scent of a Woman') and a 'HONK' brings me back to reality - to my quest to comprehend the reasons of this cacophony.

I wonder. The Malayalees have it all. You name it. We've learnt it all.

Well, almost all.

I have realised that while they have every thing else from the Gods,  there is one thing the Malayalees of Kerala have been unable to acquire from the Gods. The ability to appear and disappear. the ability to quickly move from place to place, to teleport them selves without having to ask Scottie, to beam them up or elsewhere! (Scottie, beam me up - a phrase relating to teleportation, made famous in the famous Star Trek series)

When Malayalees travel, they travel as ordinary human beings. On pot-hole infested, narrow, winding roads with a multitude of impediments like other travelers, animated or inebriated alike, all in different modes of transport, unlike the Gods who swiftly and silently moved from scene to scene, chore to chore, place to place, enjoying the unlimited fruits offered in this glorious state of Kerala.

The Malayalees have been unable to learn this one secret from the Gods - the art of teleportation.

And thus we Malayalees, ever literate, ever inquisitive, constantly endeavour to transport ourselves as quickly as possible, to get from point A to Point Q, in as surreal "Fast and Furious-ish' manner as possible, trying to emulate the teleportation of the Gods.

And this attempt is almost 'video gamish'. (without the reset or re-start option!)

A peek into a Malayalees car and you'll find a lungi clad driver, a 'thorthe' (a handspun, discoloured thin towel draped over his shoulder - clutched firmly by the driver, virtually like an appendage that would make Linus in Charlie Brown jealous). Look further lower and you would find the drivers slipperless foot on a pedal called 'accelerator' (this foot pedal, when pressed, makes the vehicle attain higher speeds, no doubt, in a futile attempt to reach TPV ( Tele-Portation Velocity)). The Free hand of the driver would flimsily hold the steering wheel (the circular device to assist the driver to swerve left and right while attempting to navigate the pot-holes and other traffic). A closer look at the drivers steering hand, and you notice his thumb firmly glued to a button or lever or switch to one of the most important inventions within the car. 

The invention by Oliver Lucas early in 1910. 

The Electric Horn. 

While his invention may have been fitted in many cars since its invention, I have come to the conclusion that it has only been the 'Malayalee intervention' that has made people understand the true value and purpose of this electrical gadget.

Everyone probably knows that the horn operates on creating a magnetic field over the body of the horn, which makes everything inside vibrate and thus  release a loud reverberating noise, which we colloquially refer to as a HORN or a HONK. Many automobile manufacturers believed that this 'horn' and its audible noise would prevent accidents by alerting and averting unsuspecting users of the roads of an impending collision. 

However, Malayalees, who have been living with and have had the Gods on their side, have not had to deal with such earthly disasters. They, afterall, live in Gods Own Country.

While Malayalees drive, their feet, escaping from within the confines of their lungis, presses far down on the accelerator, encouraging their vehicles to zoom through the narrowly entwined roads of Kerala, in an attempt almost attempting to obliterate all speed records.

The Gods have noticed that in this quest to go faster and attain TPV, Malayalees, moving from the slow days of the Ambassador Car, evolving through the Maruti 800, and then to the Audis, Jaguars and much faster cars today that slowly inch towards teleportation speeds, had begun to forget safety in this quest. Thus I presume the Gods have thought of the safety of the habitants of his own country,  and decided that the proverbial horn shall serve the Malayalees with another purpose.

(I also presume the Gods didn't increase the width of the roads in Kerala since they anyway planned to gift teleportation to these highly literate people of His Own Country.)

The Second purpose of a Horn in Gods Own Country, is to protect the Malayalee. But not only in the conventional method of making them aware audibly of a possible pending accident, but to act as an electromechanical device that produces a magnetic shield that, when activated by pressing either a lever or a button on a steering wheel, creates an impenetrable field which protects the vehicle and its occupants within, against any perceived disaster. 

As long as the horn is activated, the occupants are safe (from collision), though not necessarily from the noise and pollution

There are a few conditions however to enable this safety.

The driver of the vehicle must be a Malayalee wearing a lungi. 

But then I pondered, why the speed. Why this uncontrollable rage to overtake?

This I have figured to stem from the basic competitive attitude of these very literate malayalee clansmen.

Speed is essential to realise TPV. And yet the gift of Tele-portation may not be as abundantly available (just as the waters of the the Mulai Periyar Dam have shown that even in Gods own country there are shortfalls) - and thus this race to acquire TPV.

Thats why you will find every Malayalee driver bent on overtaking everything in front of it. At any cost.

"Leave no vehicle in Front" is religiously followed and practiced by every Malayalee driver.

And slowly true understanding dawns on me as I conclude

The Speed - to attain Tele-Portation Velocity (TPV).
The Overtaking - to ensure being among the first to receive fruits of this Godly virtue.
The Horn - to prevent and protect.

Ram Mohan
Banjul - The Gambia 2015 January

PS

I believe that the few or many accidents that do happen in Kerala are due to several facts
-  the drivers are not from Kerala
-  the drivers don't wear Lungis
-  and most often - the horns aren't working

HORN PLEASE OK

The above is written in pure jest of a condition that exists all over India.  I truly believe that we need to learn of Road rules and follow them. Civic sense on our roads will prevent the millions of accidents we have.