Panther and Canon

Besides this lovely group which so much fulfills a need to give vent to my writing needs, I recently joined another group on Facebook that caters to my need for Wild-life awareness, conservation and natural beauty.

As is the habit of an idle mind, I was browsing through Facebook and came to look at some outstanding photographs-like the one posted here. While most of them were truly marvelous and told a story by itself, some pictures had a mention of technical details like the one attached herewith.

Black Panther, Kabini, Karnataka
August 2016
Canon 1DXMK2, 400mm f/2.8 IS II + 2x
ISO 3200, 800mm, f/5.6, 1/200, composed horizontally and cropped.
Processed using Adobe Lightroom CC

     Pic Courtesy- Laksh Kalyanaraman


Always the rabble-rouser, I quickly got down to commenting on these images. Let us agree to something here, the pictures are indeed top notch, almost Nat-Geo level, if not actually Nat Geo level. But some pictures came with a detailed description of technical specs of the images. All kinds of stuff - focal length, shutter speed, resolution, even application used to develop the image!- was mentioned along with the image.

I understand when somebody acknowledges a photographer giving him/her due credit mentioning- Image Courtesy, Pic copyright, etc. What beats me however, is the need of the photographer to mention these sundry details, which, for the true nature lover, is as redundant as an author printing the amount of hard work or the number of hours put in by him/her to write a book!

True, images and videos, convey information by the multiples of mere words. However, information over-load often leads to a disease called Hyperactivity Disorder among children. With the wildly popular smartphones around, there is no saying how much information kids are exposed to. While some of it really helps in the child's  development, all parents in this group would agree, most of the information is either irrelevant or even intrusive. Something similar happens to people in such
virtual groups. Most of the members, in the name of wild-life awareness, actually seek good photographs, which there are by the dozens in the group. However, very few photographs turn out to be relevant and tell a story on their own. While judging the winner of the National Geographic Maximum CIty Cover Shot contest, the legendary lens-man, Raghu Rai said," The photographer carries his heart in his palms."

In wild-life enthusiast groups today, people take this quote to a different level- they carry their ego in their palms. Sometimes the need for acclaim overrides the central purpose. In this virtual networking world where the online reputation of a person precedes his/her true identity, fanning the fires of ego and acceptance has taken precedence over everything else.

What do I intend? Why am I taking the reader's time venting my frustration about some other group in a writers' forum?

These questions will remain unanswered till we ask ourselves this question in not just our "virtual life", but our flesh-and-bone lives as well- Am I serving my true purpose?

In everything we do in life, there will be peripherals. In giving a lecture about markets, there will always be a mention of relevance of learning. In purchasing a home, people will always come across things like neighborhood, connectivity, civil supplies. In the upbringing of a child there will be a question of how the child performs in exams. In even shopping, there will be those moments of impulse where it feels impossible to stop the hand from picking up needless items. At all times,
we come across these appendages in personal choice. What holds us steady then, is the focus on the real purpose.

A student learns best through discussion. A home is given life by its occupants, everything else is secondary. A child radiates brilliance in his/her character, exams are just a lame yard-stick. Impulse purchase only needs to inflated budgets and needless subsequent compromises.

All these decisions are personal to each one of us.However, the purpose is still universal. After all, the black panther is truly a magnificent animal, the pic-specs fade in its heavenly glory. Hence, it is focus and not focal length that matters!

Breathing in Smog

In the 1940s a sizable portion of India's urban literate believed that we, as a people, didn't deserve freedom. They argued that by nature, we are conservative, timid, selfish, two-tongued and deceitful, although kinder souls. This section of our population is now dead, whatever remains are derelicts of once vibrant personalities. Sprouted in the air of freedom, the purpose of struggle for liberty was lost to the subsequent generations in the struggle for survival. The descendants of the iconoclasts had quite naturally been diverted away from India and their repugnance for its cultural inadequacies grew. India, as we know it, cannot be read, seen or understood from afar. It has to be lived, experienced and re-lived to be able to call it anything. These generations now barely represent, let alone, think, India. By the way, their rebel predecessors weren't entirely mentally derailed, to be fair. Their preference of the Raj over democracy was well founded on experiences which were usually vastly different from what the Indian democracy would have yielded. Much of this was owing to the iron hand rule of the British. Give it to the British if you wish to have efficiency and effectiveness in machines and machinery. Give it to the Goras, if you wish to have your bribe well invested- they NEVER went back on their word, no matter what. Also, they were disturbingly fair and we are not speaking skin colour here. These very virtues could be traced back to the Treta Yug, during the rule of our favorite Shri Ram- baring the instance of the bribe, that is. There were so many 'partitions' in India before the Company anchored ships with tea leaves on Bay of Bengal, that small violations were all that they needed to ignite sparks, which of course took shape of the Sepoy Mutiny. Then followed the merciless crushing of any head that rose in even objection, let alone, rebellion. Provincial Kings, meek shadows of their past glory, gave meaning to the phrase 'humble submission'. The servile Indian surfaced to dominate the landscape, not that it was the first instance. Many case-lets of tiny triumphs over the Raj were witnessed and many others lost due to lack of storytelling. It was sweet consolidation for the British thereon for a good three-four decades. They sucked out the very nectar of life from the soul of India and in its place, injected many viruses of mass incapacitation- salaries, trains, guns, English, clothes, love of fairness(we mean the color, this time) and many many more. Where the Brits went awfully wrong was the implementation of the rule. You couldn't possibly rule with a chaabuk the customer who buys from you. He pays you taxes, so that you can hoard them to fill your ageing queen's coffers half-a-world away. Rule was decentralized, but power was still in Buckingham. Besides, the iron hand may not be adequate or appropriate if you wish to rule a nation as populous and as vast as undivided India was. That's another story though. Whatever the Sahebs did or enforced, they never quite lost their core values of fairness, justice and equity. Let's state a few facts here: Number of places of worship desecrated by Brits in India- zero. (Compare that to before and after the Raj) Number of schools established to spread education- runs into thousands.(Compare that to quality, not numbers in the present) Number of Bridges built - Thousands (compare that to the number of bridges collapsing, in the present) Number of modern towns planned- all of present day India. (compare that to drainage systems, in the present) If the reader feels a subtle inclination towards the Goras, s/he is not mistaken, because the problems of the common person were in fact addressed by the Raj, albeit with revenue in mind. This brings me to the question: whether we Indians deserve Freedom today? Going by what ends we are achieving with personal, religious and political freedom, we have missed the bull's eye by a COLONIAL margin. Do we deserve another Raj today? Going by the direction in the Indian freedom fighter's compass, we might be in for worse.

Why Grap(d)es turned Sour

One sultry monsoon Friday afternoon, I was neck deep in evaluation work.  As a welcome departure, a cheerful student came into my cabin, almost running. She was visibly excited about the grade-sheet she had been clutching tightly.

" I got the 3rd highest marks in the class, Sir. Please bless me so I can top my class in the future!" she said, almost running out of breath. I barely got time to minimize the excel sheet on to my PC desktop. 

"Wow, seems like you burnt a lot of mid-night oil for those grades! May God Bless you with whatever you wish, and more." I mumbled, trying to recover from the unexpected wave of excitement her arrival had radiated in the faculty cabin.

" Thank you, sir." she beamed even as she bent down low to touch my feet, as is customary among the students of North India. I was of course a touch surprised as girls normally avoid touching feet of teachers in these parts.

" Let me see," I said with my left hand outstretched.

"Here, sir. I lag the topper by 30 marks, Sir. I am going to beat that one next." she said, handing over the sheet.

"Very good. Your aggregate is around 75-ish. That's good by university standards."

"Yes, Sir. But I am disappointed at not having topped. Arvind was always answering in negative whenever I asked him about his paper. Now, he's topped."

Three Idiots was a fact, after all, I thought.

"I think you shouldn't be worried about anyone else. Focus on what you like and try to improve upon your weaknesses, although your grades don't reveal many. Wish you all the best for the next time."

"No, Sir. Wish for me to become the topper. That's my sole purpose in life, I have never been second best."

"Go for gold, child." I bid her farewell saying thus.

Three minutes: that's how long our conversation was. Yet, I was put into a spiral of thoughts by what she had told me abut her wish. Her sole purpose in life was to top the class- what motivation! This 3-minute chat with that student and many subsequent short interviews with students who missed the grades, the good ones, raised many questions in my mind- a beginner, by teaching standards.

The government had presumed that clubbing together all the students who scored between a certain range of marks/percentages and granting them a grade would ameliorate some classes of parents, employers and students like. Could they have been wrong? Then there were the numerous cases of suicides, some fatal and some attempted. Have these cases dropped in numbers? About what percentage drop in student-related suicide cases will be enough to call the West-influenced grading system as having been a success? Is one isolated case of attitudinal problems leading to suicide enough to rule out re-consideration of grading system?

Then there is the now-famous "Sharma Ji ka beta". My mind is right now boggled with questions, myriad and varied. Were our ancestors wrong in naming Gods- all religions included? Was it a fallacy to revere- anything, anybody, any way? Is sportsmanship a bhram- an illusion? Are all corporations of the world today wrong in their pursuit of improvement in processes, people and practices? Any sane thinker might be peeved at my reasoning. After all, what has the joy of achieving high scores got to do with Gods, companies and Olympics? Well, the underlying emotion here is not competition, but improvement of self with ideals(benchmarks) in the mind. Agreed, the price of improving upon scores cannot and should not be achieved at the cost of duress and fatigue to the young minds, but that doesn't mean students be left to their own devices in academic achievement.

If one agrees that there must be benchmarks of performance and rewards must be in accordance with performance, then the "Sharma Ji ka beta" syndrome is justified, if not in entirety. Argue in logic, please, not just for the sake of putting up a face. While, people readily uphold reward in corporate for individual and team achievement, they deny its justification at places of learning. Their chief argument being that the un-rewarded will be crestfallen. Well, then what happens to the un-rewarded colleagues at office? Do they run off high rises to terminate their abominable lives? The answer and hence the reason is not very different in academics either.


True, the West has thrived on its spirit of liberal education system for all; they dominate the world's research produce, they maintain very high standards of living and dying (Oops!), blah, blah. My concern is, give them a demography as varied and vivid as India's and let them be consistent in their outcome. Where disparity is what defines who you are, the struggle for existence precedes all other individual fantasies at some point in a person's life. The eco-system is ideal for competition- the healthy as well as the not-so-sporting variations accounted.


Many bring in the examples of China, Japan and other oriental nations to the table. Their development too is, by far, exemplary, along with comparable demographics. What went wrong with India then? That's where I wish, India had been as transformational in its growth as it has been incremental. Hence, PM Modi's call for such a paradigm shift in developmental agenda is the need of the hour. Let the market decide what stays and what doesn't. Let competition be the litmus. Let opportunity be equitable and the outcomes, accountable. No "Sharma Ji Ka Beta" would ever be around if there was no inequity in the social fabric. To draw out his deep-rooted evil which has many hair strands, each one a separate social issue altogether, enforcement of strong political will is a must.


Till that happens, which is an obscure point in the future (near or far is anyone's guess), grades will taste sour.

Googled away!

On a day that reminds my community of its responsibility towards not just pupils but also the society at large, thought it would be only pragmatic to recall our duties from a renewed perspective.

Earth is on boil, literally. Men have led the human race to the cusp of intelligence and achievement with many ground-breaking inventions, many more hatching as we write. Mechanization, automation and AI have, in that order, helped us move deeper into the arms of comfort and luxury. The mind is now given a break more frequently, although the body continues to toil harder each subsequent decade. Such is the affliction of the body, that the mind distances itself from core emotions and only answers to the basal instincts of the physique.

The lines dividing regions are slowly blurring due to the rapid advances of technology and communication, but creases among individuals and communities are more apparent, ironically, due to the same reasons. New monstrosities, hitherto unheard of, are being committed against target groups least expected and deserving to be harassed. Trade has sky-rocketed many a mile, while how it is conducted- the ethics of it- has plummeted into unfathomable depths. Somewhere these actors have had conflicting notions, one of which has been cemented by their teachers- Gurus, Padres, Mualvis, Shifus, Masters, Parents, Elders, Bosses- someone missed out on the moral science class.

Good Samaritans still abound, nursing wounds inflicted in their resistance to the new world order, for the critical intellectual support they need to nourish their defiance is down to all but a trickle now. Parents worry about grades (if not marks), teachers are wary about securing their jobs (if not misdirection), preachers crave for religious hegemony (if not genocide), businesses strive for pursuit of greater heights (if not simply profits), even monks have compromised with the ideals of their scriptures, if not entirely derailing from basic tenets of their respective religions. Knowledge isn't a treasure anymore, for ill founded illusions of learning through machines have taken over the time-tested methods of pedagogy. Classrooms are grounds where Google is justified and teachers are conduits to these ends. Hence, the new age of materialist learning only calls for desperate measures from our community, which I surmise isn't a prospect that needs to be written home about.

On a day when children, students, parents look up to my community for inspiration, I have nothing to offer in return but a few words of hope. Despite all odds, the teaching-learning duality exists and will continue to flourish, although the word teacher takes on new meanings while the student and her intellectual needs continually evolve. In the name of change and survival, the two sides of knowledge will continue to meet in new platforms of time, place and manner.

Cheers to the spirit of learning!

Open squatters in EU

Watch Russia TV for 30 mins and fall in love with India! 

I have been bitten by the latest news-bug doing the rounds in Europe: IMMIGRATION. Well, it seems like commonwealth is being paid back. Instigating hatred is not the intent here, but Europe would do well to take a leaf out of India's (yes,the Third World-Impoverished-Intolerant-snake-charmer-infested and oft-quoted, racist India) history to learn the after-effects of letting guests become permanent residents. 

Temporary asylum is one thing, helping people tiding over a certain crisis is also OK to some extent, but dear EU, opening your arms (and subsequently, legs) to all kinds of people "unabashed" is certainly another. 40 years hence, is Angela now your Indira? Dear EU, you are the most beautiful part of the world (or so say some of my friends who just hate to return (Oops!)). It certainly looks ODD when GUESTS start defecating out in the open in your heavenly scenic outdoors. After all, open defecation is endemic to India; it is a third-world thing, eh?

Trade at Ransom

Global trade is a fact most ancient and versatile civilizations had successfully practiced. Globalization, however, is a recent discovery, a bitter pill. Corporations bit it, drank lots of water in a hope to gulp it down without a hiccup. Alas, they discovered, the freaking pill inflates in water! So, they went to see a doctor, a certain Shri. Sam (don't know why they address that quack of a doctor as Uncle!). 

Gifted with amazing muscles and surrounded with gorgeous, grossly under-clad secretaries, Shri Sam said, " Here, fellas. Take this liquid. Remember to use it whenever there is even the slightest discomfort. Don't you worry the least, it's a formulation which has ingredients from all over the world, of course it's made by me. Now, you are all like my children, so I can let you in on a little secret...In the open market, it's called WTO, but I just call it "MY-WAY".

Malala, of Fire

Unlike the melodrama that goes on in Indian Reality shows where you can actually win public opinion by sobbing profuse and the TV channel surges its TRPs by needless documentation of the struggles of contestants, the Nobel Prize committee is fairly detached and save one off blunders (read, Obama) it is majorly unbiased in its opinion. 

Malala did miss the prize once. People have often misread her progression chronology. She began attacking the Taliban with nothing more than words sitting right there in Pakistan, way before she was shot. In fact, the decision to take her down itself was an acknowledgement of the impact her fiery speeches had been having on the local populace. People, and not children, saw in her a hope that they had been longing to see from the concerned elected representatives. 

She, as a child, addresses other children only now. When her rebellion against fear started, it was nothing short of those by MLK, Madiba and Gandhi, only less in terms of the outreach which was skewed against her because of the extremely tight controls of Taliban on communication systems. When she did get shot, she already had had a movement running in the North West Frontier. Schools did reopen, girls did buy books and the floor under the mountain rats' bunkers did rock. 

When she recovered after a very long and strenuous treatment in Dubai, she decided to speak again, and louder. This time, the West noticed. In terms of risk, price she had to pay, impact (both endemic and global) and above all, the sheer balls it takes, her act is unmatched in recent recorded history.


http://topyaps.com/sri-sri-ravi-shankar-versus-malala-yousafzai?fb_action_ids=10154265781079015&fb_action_types=og.comments

Movie Review- Sultan

Sultan- Playing to the galleries. Story of a student who wanted to top IIT simply by buying the most expensive reading glasses.

Sir Salman- Yes, your movie will go on to break many more records. Yes, your fans will hoist you high no matter how many times you feel 'raped'. Your box-office dominance will reach new heights. Yes, you have taken a lot of shine off Dangal.

Yet, your Highness, you will take a different path to greatness and acting is certainly not a stop on that route. I like to learn languages. Going by the absolutely ridiculous way you and Anushka speak Haryanvi, I think I'll learn it too.

It is very difficult indeed. Very difficult for you, Sir, to see what it takes to become a perfectionist.

Why is it difficult, you might ask. After all, you did toil so hard that it felt like getting 'raped'. Well, for starters, you pumped iron to make the character look like Salman, the hero. Ironic, that will work too, given your fan base (the quality of which needs some retrospection). However, the fact will remain- perfection in acting involves the actor diffusing into the character- becoming it, giving it flesh and blood- and not vise versa.

Just to lay to rest the bewildered Salman fan's curiosity to whether go his usual Mother-Sister about this critique- The man who sparred with Robert de Niro to prepare him while shooting Raging Bull (Haanfta Bail !) once said that the actor was so particular about detail that by the time the shooting ended, he was as good as a pro.

Dear Sallu Fan- Don't bother Googling Robert up. Haanfta Bail won't matter. Sultan will still be a blockbuster!

Movie Review- Buddhia Singh: Born to Run

Brilliance is not a flash in the pan. It is an illumination that blinds the inquisitive eye and feels indifferent to the casual observer.

I watched Budhia SIngh- Born to Run helplessly since, being an Odia, I carried too much bias walking in to the theater. I was there when the real Budhia ran, I was there when the real Biranchi Das obscured from the scene, I was also there when the fanatic devotees shouted Jay Jagannath- for this isn't a one-off story, it's very much the social fabric of my beloved Odisha.

The sports hostel scene between Biranchi and Budhia, the scene between Sukanti and the antagonist where he nudges a bowl just enough to make the leaking water draw her attention, the scene where Biranchi rushes out of the medical unit carrying the barely conscious Budhia after his Puri-BBSR run- these stretches of reel bordered on Guru Dutt, rivalled perhaps only by Anurag Kashyap in the present lot and RGV or Mani in the near past........ Bravo!

Just as you are about to take the plunge into cinematic inebriation, the novice surfaces and draws you out of your reveries. You are then reminded that this movie has been categorised as a Children's film with good reason. Perhaps it deserves a screening elsewhere in more receptive audiences.

Casting and characterisation are outstanding. The tightly woven story and the wisely limited reel-length leaves very little scope for Bollywood humour, song-dance routines, violence and romance. Yet, trust me when I say that all are present in good measure- a tribute to direction and acting genius.

Tilottama Shome stands out- my pick for the best actor (female) in a supporting role. She haunts with her minute-long looks, not a word escaping her lips. Her scenes with the antagonist leave you guessing. Shruti Marathe aptly sketches complaint, heart-ache, grief and melancholy- in that order as the movie progresses. Mayur Patole does what he seems to be doing best- being himself. Gajraj Rao invokes acidic hatred, just what the role calls for.

Manoj Bajpayee, however, needs special mention. Not only is Manoj uncharacteristically restrained in his portrayal, he underplays the mercurial coach by a margin. Biranchi Das isn't alive, hence the scope for imagination in the enactment of Manoj otherwise he would have known that Biranchi could have been more than ruthless- may be his task demanded him to be.

Kudos to the team for speaking Hindi the way an Odia would. Thanks to all the actors for respecting the community and not just go about making a mockery of Hindi (like Bollywood has so often done with Tamil accent, Bengali accent or Punjabi accent). We are native speakers of Odia and will invariably fumble with Hindi- just what is shown by the seasoned actors who are at home with Hindi in reality.

My pick for India's entry to Oscars in 2016-17, albeit, in the documentary segment.

Premium Prejudice

2010

A mid-segment consumer of insurance products barely bothers the hefty insurer. It is mass corporate tie-ups that these organisations really wish to pursue. For, even mid-income employee is supposed to have a secure income stream.

2020

So the first two decades have been spent chasing organisations and their employees to book their policies. Most of these policies have either been discontinued due to change in income, or have reached a minimum guarantee payback level. Not a bother for the insurer yet.

2030

So far so good. All of the savers' generation has been successfully phased out. Implying also that the actual big money depositors are out of the fray. They have either been reimbursed their payments along with the interest or their claims have been settled by payments due to their nominees. In all, the generation that saved for the future is more or less bid adieu. The insurers aren't worried.....yet.

2040

The Gen-X wakes up to its returns. Heart-related cases, obese people, perennially addicted smokers, all line up with yellowish, crumpled bond documents at the insurers' offices. They cry hoarse on social networks alleging policy abuse. Number of claims pile up. Insurers seek refuge in law.......and fail.

They fund the next wave of organised crime.......Policy underworld.

Who will claim if there IS no nominee? A claim avoided is a claim settled. The carefully worded policy bond makes sure, no one turns up at the company's door before the mandatory claim duration after the death of the life insured. Unemployed youth suddenly start getting richer unnoticed. They go out mysteriously at odd times and return late, mostly unseen and gasping. They call themselves 'settlement conduits' on private payrolls.

2016

The wary mid-income employee clicks "Pay" on his computer screen.

Sweat Under the Mask

When you quietly munch on the hard rotis packed in your lunchbox and yet say 'loved it' when she asks about lunch in the evening, you are being a man. When you quietly get up to offer to the pregnant lady your seat and not for a moment expected gratefulness, you are being a man. When you quietly muffle a mugger in the dark alley on your way home to let the lady he was troubling, run away without so much as a glance, you are being a man.

When you quietly serve the senile woman who had borne you for months and put up with you for years knowing well she won't be there to fondle you again, you are being a man. When you let her voice reign, well aware that with your gifted baritone, you could have easily drowned those of all the six colleagues like her, you are being a man. When you did what you knew was right, in spite of the spate of spite you had to take, you are being a man.

When there is none to pat your back, yet you toil on thinking about that life you promised her, you are being a man. When you said what is right, in the right way, regardless of what she thought, you are being a man. When she rained little fists of fury on you, yet you stood back absorbing it all unflinchingly, you are being a man. When you resisted her constant bickering knowing well that her female co-passengers could easily throw out your luggage for not being considerate, you are also, being a man.

Uncountable such moments sum up to make your apparently impotent, thankless, non-existent life, yet you 'man' it on because you only cease being a man the moment you give up.

There is no school for chivalry, there are no teachers preaching old-school honor. You lie down every night, knowing well that even in your dreams, you cannot play to the galleries. You are but alone, for solitary is what men are designed for. Herds are for those who wish to survive, which you don't, which MEN don't- men Live.

So, rise from all the cute-hugging, affection-hogging, lusting, foul-mouthing and mark your own karma- do what is right. Unlike its present avatar-religion-in this age, Dharma has a galactic, trans-communal meaning given life only by your deeds. Only then shall you achieve Artha, the purpose of an elevated life. Don't be dejected by the effervescent illusions of deprivation, for there is way beyond what you can imagine where your path of being a man leads.

Man on........as long as it takes.

P.S.- Man is not to be confused with its usual meaning of gender, for deeds and not orientation is measured in the old-world system of Artha, Karma and Dharma. Hence Purusharth has got nothing exclusively masculine and Purushottam has everything in Him for women to follow too.