Thursday, September 29, 2011

Rs 80 or school

Every girl in Punjab whose name gets lost in the dusty brick lanes/ galliyan is known as Nikki . The real name is given with lament at birth to the dai/ midwife and then registered  in the Panchayat Ghar , thanks to the Akali governments tall claims of protecting the girl child and giving money in her name for her education .
Her name was Rani, lovingly called by her mother who was already as old as Father time giving birth consecutively to four girls year after year in the quest for a boy . This wish to sire a son was going to be the death of her . All the pind women whispered about it in groups when they went for there early morning business before anyone woke up. Why Sher Singh! was full of anger at her inability to give him a son and there were rumors of him getting married again . His mother the old chajjo was already sending out feelers to the next village's panch's daughter . She was supposed to be  a beautiful 16 year old ready for marriage and she did bring dowry with her too.
The talk shifted to lewd , dirty and naughty comments and all was dampened with the loud speaker spluttering to life with Bhaiji's voice starting the day with his sonorous voice. The voice of Bhai Tirlok Singh seemed like a direct reprimand from Babaji itself.
Nikki grew up under two different mothers, one who was forever working on the stove , making meals for the family , the extended family and a helper.  Choti ma the new mother was decorative, well she did work but only to be seen when her father was home . She went to the village shop, bought all the stuff which was needed , she went on thursdays to light a chiraag at the holy place , with the rest of the girls. Choti ma had brought a precious buffalo in her dowry , a trunk full of clothes for the winter, bedding which was soft , velvety in feel and clothes for Bapu. And , she had secured her position in the household firmly , by producing the elusive heir , Raja.  Nikki loved him with all her life. He was forever dressed in beautiful clean clothes thanks to her mother who looked after him , bathed him , put him to sleep with all the love , warmth and motherly affection of a mother. Years  flew and Nikki started attending the primary school where she would get a mid-day meal and was also given a stipend by the government . Her older sisters had never been to school, they all worked in the near by fields working in a group under a thekedarni called Baby who was responsible for the girls. Her sisters dressed up , wore kajal ,bangles, had earrings , the latest baliyan with ghungroos in them . She loved the fact that bapu allowed them one day's wage. Eighty rupees .
Oh! How much one could do with that much money. She would eat sweets from the shop, the yummy crispy jalebis orange in color twisted and fried similar to her life. She would buy bangles , pink red green and wear them all day along . Nikki wanted to wear baliyan instead of the ordinary threads she wore. Her ears had been pierced in the last mela but nobody bought her a pair , there was never enough money for it all  to go around and then some left for extras.Nikki had spent many hours dreaming , fantasizing about the money where she would be answerable to no one for the amount. It was hers . No one could take it, no one would say give it to Raja , he is small . Clothes are need for him . No one could ask her money to pay the village shop bill which never went down . It was a mystery how the amount never changed , always he had an answer for the bill which was complicated and had a carry forward from last month. She was good in maths , she knew how to add calculate in her mind but his bill was even beyond her.
The day came, she had finished her eight class , she need not go to the senior school. She wanted to work in the fields, be independent, be the master of her desires, she wanted to wear her pretty suits and go work in the fields , laugh play and have fun coming back into trolley which brought them back at dusk.Nikki started working in the same groups with her sisters and it wasn't at all easy . The sun beat fiercely on them , it was hard work standing  ,bending picking , cutting bundles of rice. The sharp rice ears cut into her hands , making them bleed and the sun was merciless. The in charge who had joked, laughed with her was an eagle eyed hawk, she spotted any lax garland was quick in reprimanding them. There was an average which had to be maintained and it was important to fulfill the quota , other wise a straightway cut in the daily wage. Nobody had told her about this side of the picture.
She had thought it was all easy , going to the fields, doing what was told and getting the money and on sunday getting the eighty rupees. Nikki and her friends thought it was easy , they just knew what the eighty rupees symbolized . For them it meant new slippers, bangles, sweets , the hard work, the labor , the aches and pains and the merciless sun which never moved from over them . They were so blinded by the illusion of freedom , that they overlooked the hard work , the labor. It was an exchange from a perceived prison to an actual one.
Sunday finally came, Nikki's hands were all cut , swollen at places bitten by insects which she never knew existed ,feet all cracked , dirty, dark with slipper straps imprinted on them .  Starting to tan , the golden wheatish color Punjab is so famous  ( a variety coined by the match makers and patented by North Indians) , Nikki wore her best suit in anticipation of the evening stop at the shops.
The suit was pink with blue piping with mirrors stitched on by her mother. She worked, counted the hours till 6 pm and , focussed just on getting the day by. It would have been better to study , she thought . Her teacher had told her but she had never paid heed . She wondered though, even if she had studied for the next two years it would not have made a difference ,eventually she would have come to the fields to work as a daily worker. What did math or punjabi or rudimentary science help in cutting wheat? Does it make wheat cutting easier, quicker or faster ? How did education translate into a better life?
The evening came, anticipated with new eyes, even the wind had become cooler , enveloping her giving her a respite from the heat and cooling her down. The evening held so much promise , the day had finally come . She took the wages in the evening and she walked with a cockier step, her posture, demeanor had changed and she felt it was worth it ; the hard work, labor had paid off and she walked the steps in a world of her own.Her friends and she  reached the village back with so many plans, laughter,all the back breaking work, forgotten after the money which was in their hands.
They walked to the shop in a rhythm of their own , feet taking them to their destination . Evening had descended , a twilight hour neither day nor night , they walked quickly to the village shop on the outskirts . She had to buy her jalebis, her baaliyan and then make her way home. Suddenly they were waylaid by a group of young boys a mixed motley of young and not so young boys who were masked . They asked for their money , a couple of girls fled and one of them stood behind Nikki . She was quivering, clutching her money in her fist behind her back and she said , "I don't have any money . It's with Bapu. " She did not want to give her hard-earned money to a group of boys who were teasing them and wanted to take it away just because they were stronger . They did not know what it meant to work in the merciless sun , working hour after hour without stopping and fulfilling the quota . Any less meant that her wage was proportionate.
Her negative stance made one of the boys move towards her , cowering her . The shadows made them look  bigger . One of them whipped out a country knife and started brandishing it . Instead of moving back , she moved forward, fear makes one bolder , stronger . The boy felt as if she was challenging his man hood , shoved the knife in her which made contact with her . She fell , and the money fell from her hand . The boys took it and ran. 
Nikki lay there in  a pool of blood waiting for help which came too late. She died on the way to the hospital.

This is not my imagination playing riot or just writing so that I make a blog entry for today. This happened in a nearby village and money was used by the boys to buy drugs . 50 rupees for capsules which give one a high .A life too cheap, snuffed away . 

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

shaheed bhagat singh


This day comes and goes today , just the same way  we enjoy another holiday , no work no rush in going to the office where one is time bound to spend another day whiling away time. Shaheed Bhagat Singh 's birthday is today , it gets resurrected feebly again and again to further political fortunes. His birthday is used as a convenient excuse to further political ambitions. The yellow color of his turban is known more than the saraon ( mustard flower ) of Punjab , worn with pride by the youth for a day to flag the morals, bold stance of Bhagat Singh for a day but as the sun sets which is inevitable the ideology is swept away again for the next year.
He is remembered not for his  stand , his fight his courage but for the paper inches he can give the political party and the eulogy given to him is weak and empty . Words are large , heavy and they whip up emotions which die a death before the day ends and the flash bulbs flash.
Todays youth is searching for an icon who will guide them , show them the path but sadly is misled by the politicians whose coffers grow and who lives not for the common man but for himself and percentage votes garnered. The virtual world which pays tribute to him is lost in clever, gimmicky statuses and profile pictures which pay tribute him for a day and is gone when the likes do not substantiate it.In the same line we wish Bhagat singh and in the same breath wish Ranbir Kapoor a long life .
It is the need of the day that the nation keeps its tryst with history for the next generation and for it self to face not the world but to meet its own eye in the mirror.
Ravneet Sangha

Thursday, September 22, 2011

32 or 26 not a waist size


Rs 32 is all one needs to have in his or her pocket to be above the poverty  line in the urban areas and Rs 26 a day for the rural areas. One is not classified poor if one has the spending power of Rupees 32, according to the Planning Commission, who informed the Supreme Court of their findings. This magic figure will not let them withdraw any benefit from the central / state pool;i.e. the welfare schemes which are in place for them.

Think for a moment what you can buy with Rs 32 or Rs 26 ( depending whether you are an urban or rural citizen) for your average sized family with two children and aged parents. The index which keeps on rising never coming down, the inflation rate which cases havoc is making it impossible for the ordinary citizen to survive. In today's survey conducted amongst a  sample of the society it was found that the group of teenagers ranging from15 to 19 yrs could not fathom a day where they could survive on this measly amount for a day. Why  ,a pack of chips and a cd ( cold drink ) costs Rs 25! How is one going to survive and then a recharge for a mobile, and then money for a geri route? It was preposterous, says  Hartaaj ,an engineering student. 
Baani , a university going student thinks that it was a joke , the survey being conducted.All the kids thought it was a stunt for a reality Tv show so popular in today's times . None of them thought you could survive on such a pathetic measly amount.
We are entering the next year with our head held high , overtaking Japan, as the third largest economy in the world, one of the only countries not to suffer recession,overtaking the world with the high quotient  intellect pool and exceeding everyone's expectation in being self-sufficient . This figure presented today is a pathetic testament to a country  which is making mockery of its citizens. What can you buy for this ? A few grams of dal, a meagre amount of flour , no vegetables, no milk , no nutritional portion. No clothes, or shoes to wear. Any illness,or unforeseen accident leaves them vulnerable to the age-old money lending system which has broken their back-bone. This never-ending vicious cycle does not let them rise. A migrant worker from UP says, that due to the untimely rains, heavy monsoons they do not get daily work which has left them eating rice with ,watered  down dal . 
How will Rs 26 cover any illness, where the slip to just go beyond the reception area to enter the haloes in front of the doctor's room costs Rs 10?How is he going to afford the course of antibiotics which costs a minimum of Rs 78 for 3 days ( according to Indian Chemists Association) ? This was just illness, how is he going to send his kids to the government school? Yes, we proudly say we have a mid-day meal program, but with infested rice, where the actual good supply of quality rice/porridge is filtered away by the anganwari lady and if made is cooked by the kids in dismal conditions. Oh, the rich person who has Rs 32 in his pocket is also supposed to allocate from this amount his rent, electricity , water bill . These are the basics we are counting, anything over and above this is frivolous. He can only dream of entertainment, or visiting the heritage of this mighty country . The common man is disillusioned , left to fend on his meagre amount, his only defense, his armor of being poor has been snatched from him by the acclaimed economists who have dictated the dictum for the majority of Indians.
We , the Annas of today , the Rang De Basantis will lose our voice not because corruption will break us but just because we never got a proper meal.
Is this figure to hide /manipulate millions for the ever hungry politician who sees this as a plank for votes to line his coffers which have no bottom?
Ravneet Sangha .

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

the hospital


 My visit to a government hospital was oxymoronic, it was a mausoleum. I joined the ranks of the common public who visit the government hospitals, civil hospitals and the specialized ENT hospital . The monsoons have taken the toll in Punjab and the roads are a ghostly memory. We visited the hospital last week to visit a specialist nearby to the newly constructed Civil Hospital , Jalandhar. 
What can I say? The visit is an eye-opener to the pathetic, deplorable condition of the hospital .This is not an exaggerated version to sell copy, but what I saw there. The walls exist under layers of dust , the paint lost after the elaborate ceremony to declare it to open to the gullible public. There exists no light , dark dismal, dank corridors take you to the room. The air is neglected, a weird smell which creeps into your nose , refuses to leave you even after the visit. No body sits on the reception desk to guide you, water creeps down the stairs welcoming you.  Oh, yes, one is supposed to be well versed in Punjabi to know where which doctor sits or have so much time to keep making rounds and you are lucky if the doctor is still in his room.
The room is no better, it has furniture , the quintessential computer, the equipment ( in over sterilized calcified implement box) but the air is stagnant and the fan moves in a negative speed as if it has also given up its task. The fight against in giving air is too much . 
The doctors, well qualified, specialists in their fields are par excellence but the environment sucks out the zest for their profession. Yes, they are impeccable in their diagnosis , the medication was perfect , my nephew did get well,but don't we owe it to them to give them humane environments to work in?
Where does the money go in Punjab? Why is the hospital a monument to the dead , instead of the living? Why is the air neglected, stagnant, dank , depressing and  everyone operates on a slow-motion speed.
Punjab boasts of a relatively rich progressive electorate. We , pride ourselves to be a progressive, state where if possible we would start farming on the moon!
Gone are the days that we can discuss, have bureaucratic meetings where all is discussed ,water served with the budgeted flowers and the proper snacks, and swept into files which never see the light till the next so called scheduled meeting where the same agenda is presented with no result. 
Punjab needs action ,simple as that . It needs to flag the dying spirit which is buried under the nonchalant, superficial mask of today donned by its public and the government.
Ravneet Sangha

Sunday, September 18, 2011

The Divine Madness


The Divine Madness


This has just been borrowed from the spiritual page but has nothing to do with my godly intentions , for once. I have two friends who will be heaving a sigh over this.

The building is broken down,paint peeling off, there are more plants growing on the parapets and the nooks of the walls than in the so called main garden. The path way to the building doesn't exist and has more sand than the beaches of Bondi. The rooms are cubby holes smeared with a paint which is of the bygone era bleached of life, windows with iron bars as if blocking away any ray of light or sunshine which might dare to creep and spread some warmth. The floor doesn't exist , uneven strewn with excuses of desks and chairs. The black board has no slate on it. The walls have faded painted alphabets ,both in Roman English and Punjabi but lines have disappeared as if the struggle to survive was too much . The entire compound has a dead , neglected feel. 
This is a prominent village in Doaba , a senior secondary school run by the government.
Punjab , a rich state in ruins now fallen  is holding its SGPC elections today. The polling booth was made for the electorate , each siding fighting for the Panth and holding the keys to heaven and salvation . It's  a wonder where the ideology is lost , it is more important and mandatory to have a flowing beard , Yes, I understand that one has to comply with the signs of being a sikh , the 5 symbols which are given to  us by Guru sahib to discipline us . Why has rigidity set in the newest most flexible religion ? Why have we become prisoners to the interpretations of a few hard-core religious extremists? Extremism, excess always positions itself for fall eventually. It digs its own grave .

The scene at the booth was hilarious but sad at the same time ( pun intended) , everyone was proclaiming to vote for the panth, a triangular contest was on cards . One was the true son of the guru -ghar , the second was for the real akali dal and the third one was the hard-core alkali dal ( Amritsar). All of them , were clad in white kurta pajamas, impressive with their blue turbans and respectable lengths of beard. I wonder , which oil works for the long , right colored salt pepper beards ?
There is also a point for wonder...how do all of them get pointy in the end? Even Dumbeldore was shown with the same flowing beard , our one and only export to Holly wood apart from Ms Mallika and her ample bosom.The religious battle is won on only one platform divinity which is guarded by the SGPC which till date does not allow women to do kirtan in the Drabar Hall. Nor is a Hindu or a muslim allowed to do seva , where the basis of Nanak's Bani was sung with the help of Bala and Mardana. Who appointed us as the moral guardians of a faith which is the most modern , is the only one in the world which treats all of us equals is tolerant , and started the unique practice of a communal kitchen where no one is big , small , rich or poor . But , the crusaders have turned sellers of religion where vote is bought on basis of emotion. I saw the common man , woman voting just because it was for the guru-ghar , that effectively seals every question, doubt ever raised by one. No one dare raise a voice of dissent because doing so means questioning  the Supreme. No one ever wants to be caught in that cross-fire , believe me.
We need a reform where we can in corporate the newer generation, intellectuals which will make Sikhism flourish and not be strangulated or die a slow death .This divine madness which will be our downfall needs resurrection , to save it for Punjab which shall rise as a phoenix.

Ravneet Sangha.


Saturday, September 17, 2011

raj kumar - two pieces of besan


His round eyes haunt me today , following me around when I walk in the evening. I asked him his name , because I feel by knowing a person's name one wins them over ,chotu comes later to me.
He is Raj Kumar , aged 12 years from Karnal sent to Punjab to eke out a living.He works on my farm , his job as a novice is to fire small pellets of gunpowder to stave off the birds who come and eat the ripening ears of maize. It is done with the use of an indigenous crude gun used by all farmers . Am I guilty of depriving this young child who is weak, thin and should be studying , living his childhood not worried about dihaari/daily wages , and how much money he can send back home to his parents? This debt cycle which engulfs them , passes on from generation to the next and a life time is gone in paying of the interest , forget the principal amount.

Did I appease my guilt by giving him two pieces of besan , thinking that would absolve me of the moral guilt? It pricks the conscious . Is he better off here, where he gets three square meals and as much as he can eat rice with deal from the langar hall or back home with his parents receiving love affection but maybe one square meal a day?
Where does one equalize ? This is one of those rare moments where I want to ask God , why?I don't see the logic , the grandiose plan in this. 

Thursday, September 15, 2011

shakti/women


First of all this is contrary to popular perception a very old-fashioned article,with a few of homilies thrown in .I do not have any path - breaking ball - busting feminist views , nor are these modern or utopian , just a bit of common sense .

Women of our age have forgotten their true status in the society.We are all passing through a difficult time in our  civilization, we all want to live in a state with a sense of equality, loving all and excluding  none but in this search modern woman is forgetting her power within and forgetting a very important role that she has to play in the society. If women want to bring about a change in the society only she can because she is the architect of our whole society and the architect of human's destiny. It is the biggest misconception that the country's destiny its path is carved out in the midst of men's clubs or power centers where they demarcate, divide. She builds the home, she established the family life, she brings up the children,and makes them good citizens.
Do you know who first taught meditation in action? We all think that the great saints, sages are the one who learnt give us this wisdom , but actually the founders of this are ordinary women whom meditate daily. In ancient India , each woman would daily get up early ,gather and  go to the well with empty vessels on their head to bring back water. She would carry that vessel on her head , with arms on the side and sometimes carry bundles of firewood in her hands or other stuff. This requires a lot of focus, concentration , control and also along with this cry , weep sing talk the very distance back to her hut. This cannot be done by great yogis. The vessel will never fall . This particular memory has been etched in our minds by various photographers who have captured them in line with their vessels perched on their head , swinging to the rhythm to an internal mantra. This is meditation in action. You can live in this world like the woman who does her duties without any problem without being carried away from her power of concentration. Ask a man to do this and you will hear him complain and be aghast over how why what where and it's impossible.
Women is shakti.
Without woman, man is never complete.Tagore,the greatest Indian poet said,"O woman you are half in reality but half in dream.That dream which all men have, that dream without which humanity will not survive, that dream which is inexplicable is really woman. A Woman is a living temple, shakti a predominant force which is instrumental in making men great . for e.g. Ramakrishna paramhansa became great because of a woman, Krishna had Radha, Buddha because of many woman who played an important role in shaping him to his magnificence.
It is not a question whether man is higher or woman is . A woman is definitely superior . Put a man through a little discomfort and he will start complaining. A woman comfortable lives with a baby inner womb, carries it for nine months , goes through labor which has no equal . She alone has that capacity to endure , to be patient. Woman are psychologically and medically superior to men. There is a scientific fact that lesser women die of heart attacks ( not because we don't have a heart ) but because we are better shock absorbers. Men generally make terrible patients and want to be babied. 
Women have the real strength , carrying on like quiet selfless soldiers . The problem is they are not making creative use of their strength. The world needs their help today. Woman is suffering because of the lack of realization of their own strength. The power of shakti is being dissipated in advertising, clubs television, magazines.The real problem is that we do not exsist for the fun of men and many women have forgotten this .Many of the  women are still poking for someone to appreciate them, they are dependent on them to praise to say , oh! you are looking beautiful ,attractive. This is not helpful for our next generation which is rising. Women of today tomorrow need not these artifices, cudgels .
Women are custodians of civilizations. They are the first teachers. Children receive their first lessons from their mother . If a woman does not impart her lessons properly , they grow wild and grow up unstructured. Woman of today is not secure , with doubts of relationship stability, of changing partners whether she is going to continue with the same man or live in the same house , these doubts affect her self image.
The one thing which is unique to India is that invaders have come , gone left their mark but woman have not been touched . From Mughals , to the Britishers India has withstood various attacks and these foreigners influenced the way of life , left deep impacts in our architecture to an extent in the culture but mainstream India has not been affected . Woman remained apart , the core was not touched and this is the reason the culture remains intact. Today the material wealth is gone ; there is poverty , disparity, malnutrition,and over population -but there remains one thing ....civilization . That ancient stream of civilization lives on , breathing fire to this country because of women.
The West also had the same practice but the deterioration of the basic unit , family culture has left an impact where we see the effects in todays world. We create jails , corrective institutions for our criminals but do we ever ask why they became like this?The highest learning is not imparted in schools, colleges , universities but in childhood.An education starts knee high at a mother's lap . The reconstruction of society , to rebuild is all in the hands of women.
She needs not to question whether she is inferior or superior than a man , she just needs to reestablish her family life balancing it in today's modern times with her career. If , we have been given this unique gift to bear children I guess we should  instead of squabbling over the who and whys, suck it up and balance family and career life in tandem. 

Monday, September 12, 2011

a few good men


Good Samaritan

 We all grew up with the parable of the good samaritan, a compassionate person who unselfishly helps other.  
A true incident came to light in the village of Kapurthala , where an ordinary man by the name of Jagtar Singh, who had meagre means lived his life by plying a school bus and sometimes driving a truck to eke out a living for his three sons and his wife.He kept on feeling  a sense of incompletion , that was something was missing in his family life. This made him take a step which made him the laughing stock of the village , and his extended family . They thought he was being stupid, foolish, crazy and out of his head to take in the responsibility of a baby girl , a burden which meant  additional expense . Also it meant safeguarding her izzat, getting her married , the additional expenditure, dowry , finding a match etc.
He went ahead with his resolve not listening  to anyone's ridicule or what they thought about him.He formally adopted a young baby girl of 3 days and she was welcomed by him with open arms. This man brought her up as his own daughter , giving her a basic education, making her well versed in life and brought her up to his best capacity. Along the way , when times were hard, there used to be a crunch of money he would never think of her as an additional burden as pointed by the villagers but he always thought of giving birth to four kids. 
The love and the affection showered by her and the care which she took of him , the special attention she gave him  was like his own child. Jagtaar singh , married her off this year in April giving her a great wedding, giving her essential household things to start her married life. Surinder Kaur , is expecting her first child . She hopes they can shower the same love and affection that she received as a young child .She is happily married in Amritsar to a watchman in a mill . 
In a state where boys are prized possession, where girls are killed , aborted for, this man is a symbol and icon that we can also strive to be great . Till the day , we have human beings who show such great traits , Punjab, will not go down the path of hell and destruction as prophesized all.
Ravneet Sangha

innocence


This is an incident which was narrated by someone who keeps me in splits always,however I would admit that my comprehension of Punjabi is slow but something does infiltrate in the grey matter .


P and family have an old retainer ( flashback to 1950's .. b/w era please) who is a dying breed of this kind of helpers who cook clean and can do anything.. one just has to call him and he will do his ji hazoori.. Let's call him B the indispensable who was being served tea in a house where a wedding was taking place , sec 37 . The lady of the house served him a mix of milk and water and something. He was aghast, taken back that , Bibiji had given him a tabeet ( amulet containing magic and superstitious powers) in the tea.
This poor simpleton was served tea with a tea bag which he likened to a tablet. He  thought that she was trying to influence him with black magic.


dihydrogen monoxide or water


A student at Eagle Rock Junior High won first prize at the Greater Idaho Falls Science Fair, April 26. He was attempting to show how conditioned we have become to alarmists practicing junk science and spreading fear of everything in our environment. In his project he urged people to sign a petition demanding strict control or total elimination of the chemical "dihydrogen monoxide."

And for plenty of good reasons, since:

it can cause excessive sweating and vomiting
it is a major component in acid rain
it can cause severe burns in its gaseous state
accidental inhalation can kill you
it contributes to erosion
it decreases effectiveness of automobile brakes
it has been found in tumors of terminal cancer patients 

He asked 50 people if they supported a ban of the chemical.

Forty-three (43) said yes,
six (6) were undecided,
and only one (1) knew that the chemical was water. 

The title of his prize winning project was, "How Gullible Are We?"

He feels the conclusion is obvious.


This is one of the glaring examples which highlights how we react to alarming reports , it shows the reaction to something new , out of the box which makes us react to the situation without knowing fully what it is. Delivering bad news, punctuating , being dramatic was the forte' of Indians ,but I guess it is prevalent in all the countries of the world. Why do I forget that a white man is no different form the brown or the black or yellow person? We are same all over the world, the divisions and the lines are all man-made, self created for supremacy.
Alarmists all over the world  bemoan over the fact that global warming is going to be the end of the planet and to deliver their messages they need to be more forceful and creative in delivering their message of doom and gloom.This has had a reverse effect in the public where instead of being warned for taking steps one gets deterred by the speculative and creative global warming claims.The public in general is tired of being handed out verdicts as if dishing out public sentences in this era of gloom,terrorism, all around you hear depressing news posts.
Why are we forgetting to live in the present, enjoy the moment ? One is just worried about "history' ( it should have been her story, and the world would have been softer, brighter) or the future where the scenario is bleak, dark where all is going to be lost  in the hands of a trigger happy dictator who has looted his countrymen and in a moment of ego induced  blindness  is going to press a WMD.
The world is still affected by the basic needs of life which was what the first homo sapiens wanted ,food, water security, equality and scientists have us in turmoil first by global warming and then global cooling. The same said people lead the charge but they are naming the same alleged cause( human industrial activity) and the same alleged consequences ..more droughts, extreme weather , crop failures etc.Perhaps,the alarmists errant claims of global cooling crisis could be overlooked if their global warming predictions were faring any better . The global warming claims are failing as spectacularly. We were told that the temperature would rise by one half to one degree fahrenheit (o.3 to 0.6 degree celsius) between 1990 to 2000 and another  two to four degrees fahrenheit ( 1.1 to 2.2 celsius) between 2000 to 2010. 

But , real global temperatures have increased by .2 degrees to .3 degrees celsius since 1990. 
The ice is still there , water levels have not risen to submerge countries , Venice still beckons romantics from all over the world( I still have to go and get serenaded on the gondola) , hurricanes are not becoming frequent , they have not flattened the Earth , the Gulf stream is not being shut down. Yes ,the planet has  and is suffering from humanity created excesses but one should be realistic and not alarmist. You know the old adage , pinch of salt well it holds true in this day and age more than ever.
On a national level , the media , the tv channels , the media hype and the nauseating  pitched shrill voice of the news casters all focus on sensationalism. This is done with only one aim , so as to increase viewership and to attract readers . A domino effect which leads to higher TRP's, increased advertisements,higher revenues on the basis of higher number of viewers. 
During a typical news day, stories which are trivial/tabloid are shown again and again , repeated with glimpses of the main story to tantalize, create maximum impact. It is like the case of Aesop fable ..Wolf, wolf!
Objective reporting, facts and figures which are not exaggerated , that is all lost . All reporting is done with an edge of hysteria, a touch of theatre, exaggerated pronunciation and scoops are highlighted with hype, drama. In fact, in today's world, rumor has it has more weight age than the actual word or truth. The above example cites how we get manipulated into answering in a fashion which is perceived right, a peer pressure kind of feeling where one answers in the " expected right way" even if it is wrong. A herd mentality.
It is hoped that common sense prevails so that we revert back to reality and all is not projected where the main purpose is money . 
Ravneet Sangha

Monday, September 5, 2011

corruption in my life :))


Corruption came , went like the monsoons. We all made the proper noises , the protests,and then also participated in the largest demonstrations against the government in recent times. it was the Gandhi's second coming ( a sequel is being made) Sir Ben Kingsley is currently searching in the USA for cheek pads to look like Annaji , and Kiran Bedi's role is being played by Angelina Jolie. Her voluptuous figure will be cleverly disguised under the kurta /waistcoat attire of the super cop . 

I was traveling to Sanawar and back and as always was late in going back home. Crossing, Chandigarh , city beautiful we were speeding ( a little  bit ) and got stopped by this huge jundli of cops , we pulled over. They asked my driver to give his license and a court date was going to be given for next month. I didn't want to give the driving license as we needed this trusty guy to be all over Punjab and Delhi. In fact, he probably travels the maximum in our family.
Well to cut the story short, we negotiated for chai -paani and I shelled out 500 rupees so that we could pass. In fact the initial 100/50 were scoffed at and I  was told they would give us this much money so I could have something cold to drink!! Here , a point to be registered is that challan is going to be cut there and then, plus actual money is paid there to expedite the process . 
I wonder , how they want to weed out corruption. I am party to it , I was and am frustrated by the apathy of the policeman where they like to complicate , delay the process so that we end up bribing them . 

A corrupt individual.