Sunday, June 30, 2013
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Warped in caste conundrum
In early 1960s, at my college,
Syed Mubarak Ali, the Art teacher, and Devi Singh, physical training
teacher, used to be served food in white porcelain plates at teachers’
lunches while others ate in brass thalis. I thought it must be a reward
for their meritorious services; they were two of the most popular
teachers. Years later, the retired principal let out the secret: it was
an action in pollution control rather than recognition of their talent!
According to him, the brass/copper was good conductor not only for
transmitting electric current but also for pollution related to caste
and religion. If Ali, a Muslim (Mleksha) and Singh a Scheduled Caste
(Shudra) were served food in thalis, pollution of a Mleksha and a Shudra
would have passed on to other teachers; they could have resigned. So,
introduction of porcelain plate was a diplomatic solution: it avoided
offending other teachers and also retained the much needed two teachers.
I was left speechless at the genius of the scion of a family of
Chaturvedis (who had mastered all the four Vedas!)
In late 1960s, at one of Allahabad University’s hostels named after a great Indian educationist, there was no ban on admission of the Muslim/SC students if their marks met the criterion but the students of these two categories seldom opted for this hostel. Once, a Muslim student got admitted. On the very first night, during the harrowing ragging session, the seniors set fire to his pubic hair; he ran for his life without collecting his meagre possessions, never to return again!
An additional secretary in the MEA, on a trip to Hong Kong in late 1980s, won’t initiate a conversation with the first secretary as he couldn’t figure out correctly what caste he belonged to. He rose to become the foreign secretary and died in harness as the governor of an important state!
A former young Turk of the Congress party, while serving as the governor didn’t know what to talk to when he couldn’t make out the caste of the Indian ambassador designate from his name. When his repeated insistence on the full name failed to elicit the most vital information, an exasperated Rajyapal Ji blurted out “OK, then, what is your caste?” He rose to become the vice-president of India!
In 1980s, the vice-president of India (he later became the President) who had graduated from the prestigious Cambridge University of UK felt terribly uncomfortable in talking to the head of the Hindi Service of BBC’s World Service during his visit to London when the Press Counsellor couldn’t tell him in advance the caste of the interviewer!
On the auspicious day of Holi this year, after the time for throwing colour and besmirching faces with gulal was over, one of the retired ambassadors residing in the IFS apartments requested us to drop by for a drink in the evening. Another ambassador, retired recently, had also joined with his wife. While we were chatting about increasing cases of rapes in Delhi, this ambassador turned to me and asked, “So, what is full name?”
Forty years after joining the IFS, I was puzzled by such a question from a fellow ambassador. But to satisfy him, I told him my name as mentioned in my passport.
Not contented, he said, “Let me rephrase my question, if you were to give your full name, what it would be?” I replied, “This is all what it will be; there is nothing more to add or subtract!”
Not to give up his single-minded quest, he added, “Then let me ask you directly: what is your caste?” I couldn’t resist telling him tersely that he reminded me of that AS (AD), the governor, the vice-president & the President of India who were lost for words unless they knew the caste of an individual and that I was wrong in imagining that 38 years in IFS with several postings abroad and the tolerant faith he followed might have made him lose interest in the phenomenon of caste. “Well, I wanted to know out of curiosity’, he responded.
Surprisingly, like that governor 20 years back, he showed no curiosity about the fact that I was India’s ambassador in Libya for five years and had met Col. Gaddafi more than 20 times!
After listening to thumris, dadras and kajris in soulful voice of matchless Girija Devi ji at Azad Bhavan last month, I and my wife were having dinner on the lawns with the renowned art critic, Shanta Sarabjeet Singh. Another lady whose face looked familiar turned towards me and remarked that she had attended some of IAFA events at the IIC including the memorial for late Dr Abid Hussain. Then I realised, she was the wife of a highly respected civil cervant who had spent nearly three decades in the US with an international organisation. Suddenly, this lady turned to my wife and whispered, “Is your husband’s last name Kohli?” “No, it’s Kumar” my wife whispered back. “Kumar? So, what is he?” she couldn’t suppress her curiosity!
Since India took the plunge in favour of economic liberalisation in 1991-92, a lot has changed in India for the better, contrary to the claims of cynics and naysayers. We have a middle class bigger than the total population of the US; cellphone owners number three times the number in the US. From the stage of having to mortgage gold, the outflow of investment from Indian firms today is higher than the annual inflow of FDI. Though industrial production and economic growth have slowed down, India is still one of the fastest growing economies. India’s IT industry, especially software sector, is a force to reckon. With demographic dividend on her side, India is tipped to be a major global player in the knowledge society of tomorrow.
But what might trip India? Near total collapse of moral and ethical values in day-to-day life, governance and management; insatiable obsession with caste (those who claim that caste doesn’t matter to them are simply being hypocrite and dishonest) and rampant corruption at all levels of life. In the US and UK if you told your co-passenger in the metro that you were from a business firm or a university, your introduction was complete; conversation veered around the business firm or the academics of that university. But in India, the mother of all curiosities is the curiosity about one’s caste! Just have a look at the matrimonial columns, some of the brightest young men and women coming from IITs/IIMs and serving in lucrative positions are looking for suitable matches from their respective castes! The sage who said: jati na poochho sadh ki.. was wrong! He should have urged: jati hi poochho sadh ki ...!!
Mera Bharat Mahaan!
Jai ho!
The writer is a former secretary in the ministry of external affairs
In late 1960s, at one of Allahabad University’s hostels named after a great Indian educationist, there was no ban on admission of the Muslim/SC students if their marks met the criterion but the students of these two categories seldom opted for this hostel. Once, a Muslim student got admitted. On the very first night, during the harrowing ragging session, the seniors set fire to his pubic hair; he ran for his life without collecting his meagre possessions, never to return again!
An additional secretary in the MEA, on a trip to Hong Kong in late 1980s, won’t initiate a conversation with the first secretary as he couldn’t figure out correctly what caste he belonged to. He rose to become the foreign secretary and died in harness as the governor of an important state!
A former young Turk of the Congress party, while serving as the governor didn’t know what to talk to when he couldn’t make out the caste of the Indian ambassador designate from his name. When his repeated insistence on the full name failed to elicit the most vital information, an exasperated Rajyapal Ji blurted out “OK, then, what is your caste?” He rose to become the vice-president of India!
In 1980s, the vice-president of India (he later became the President) who had graduated from the prestigious Cambridge University of UK felt terribly uncomfortable in talking to the head of the Hindi Service of BBC’s World Service during his visit to London when the Press Counsellor couldn’t tell him in advance the caste of the interviewer!
On the auspicious day of Holi this year, after the time for throwing colour and besmirching faces with gulal was over, one of the retired ambassadors residing in the IFS apartments requested us to drop by for a drink in the evening. Another ambassador, retired recently, had also joined with his wife. While we were chatting about increasing cases of rapes in Delhi, this ambassador turned to me and asked, “So, what is full name?”
Forty years after joining the IFS, I was puzzled by such a question from a fellow ambassador. But to satisfy him, I told him my name as mentioned in my passport.
Not contented, he said, “Let me rephrase my question, if you were to give your full name, what it would be?” I replied, “This is all what it will be; there is nothing more to add or subtract!”
Not to give up his single-minded quest, he added, “Then let me ask you directly: what is your caste?” I couldn’t resist telling him tersely that he reminded me of that AS (AD), the governor, the vice-president & the President of India who were lost for words unless they knew the caste of an individual and that I was wrong in imagining that 38 years in IFS with several postings abroad and the tolerant faith he followed might have made him lose interest in the phenomenon of caste. “Well, I wanted to know out of curiosity’, he responded.
Surprisingly, like that governor 20 years back, he showed no curiosity about the fact that I was India’s ambassador in Libya for five years and had met Col. Gaddafi more than 20 times!
After listening to thumris, dadras and kajris in soulful voice of matchless Girija Devi ji at Azad Bhavan last month, I and my wife were having dinner on the lawns with the renowned art critic, Shanta Sarabjeet Singh. Another lady whose face looked familiar turned towards me and remarked that she had attended some of IAFA events at the IIC including the memorial for late Dr Abid Hussain. Then I realised, she was the wife of a highly respected civil cervant who had spent nearly three decades in the US with an international organisation. Suddenly, this lady turned to my wife and whispered, “Is your husband’s last name Kohli?” “No, it’s Kumar” my wife whispered back. “Kumar? So, what is he?” she couldn’t suppress her curiosity!
Since India took the plunge in favour of economic liberalisation in 1991-92, a lot has changed in India for the better, contrary to the claims of cynics and naysayers. We have a middle class bigger than the total population of the US; cellphone owners number three times the number in the US. From the stage of having to mortgage gold, the outflow of investment from Indian firms today is higher than the annual inflow of FDI. Though industrial production and economic growth have slowed down, India is still one of the fastest growing economies. India’s IT industry, especially software sector, is a force to reckon. With demographic dividend on her side, India is tipped to be a major global player in the knowledge society of tomorrow.
But what might trip India? Near total collapse of moral and ethical values in day-to-day life, governance and management; insatiable obsession with caste (those who claim that caste doesn’t matter to them are simply being hypocrite and dishonest) and rampant corruption at all levels of life. In the US and UK if you told your co-passenger in the metro that you were from a business firm or a university, your introduction was complete; conversation veered around the business firm or the academics of that university. But in India, the mother of all curiosities is the curiosity about one’s caste! Just have a look at the matrimonial columns, some of the brightest young men and women coming from IITs/IIMs and serving in lucrative positions are looking for suitable matches from their respective castes! The sage who said: jati na poochho sadh ki.. was wrong! He should have urged: jati hi poochho sadh ki ...!!
Mera Bharat Mahaan!
Jai ho!
The writer is a former secretary in the ministry of external affairs
This article is from: The Asian Age
Déjà Vu | Lapham’s Quarterly
Déjà Vu | Lapham’s Quarterly
2013: India has joined the U.S. and other Western nations in conscripting the telegram to the pages of history. Later this summer, the nation’s state-run telegram agency will send its last missive, bringing an end to the telegram’s longstanding importance in Indian life.
Read Blog Déjà Vu | Lapham’s Quarterly full article
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
New 'Delhi belly' vaccine shows promise, U.K. researchers say
06/10/2013
For some western travellers, "Delhi belly" is an inconvenience, an uncomfortable malady that can cloud the memory of an otherwise perfect vacation to the developing world.
But in Asia, Africa and Latin America, "Delhi belly" -- severe diarrhea -- is far more serious.
The World Health Organization says: "Diarrhea is one of the leading causes of death among children under five globally. More than one in ten child deaths – about 800,000 each year – is due to diarrhea. Today, only 44 per cent of children with diarrhoea in low-income countries receive the recommended treatment, and limited trend data suggest that there has been little progress since 2000."
Nearly every child in the third world will have "Delhi belly" at least once in his or her lifetime. Sometimes, a child can die in a day from the affliction because of severe and rapid dehydration.
Researchers from the University of Cambridge say they have developed a new vaccine that targets both E. Coli bacteria and salmonella. The vaccine comes in pill form and also promises protection against typhoid.
"The stakes are incredibly high," researcher Krishnaa Mahbubani told the Star in an interview. "Delhi belly is quite dangerous. Several million children under the age of six come down with this. this will be a huge. This isn't just about stopping discomfort for travellers for a few weeks."
Prof. Nigel Slater, who leads a team of scientists at University of Cambridge’s department of biochemical engineering and biotechnology, said trials on mice have yielded positive results.
Human trials are set to begin later this year on a few dozen subjects. Consumers won't be able to buy the pill for at least four or five years, Slater said.
The vaccine's technology is owned by the university and Prokarium, a pharmaceutical company. The British government helped finance the research, which has been in the works for about eight years, he said.
"The trick really was getting this vaccine into tablet form," Slater said. "these bacteria in the vaccine have to pass through walls of intestine to get to lymph nodes where they create the immmunity. There's an issue of cold chain in hot countries like India.
"So we had to develop a pill form where the bacteria would be rehydrated with water, but wouldn't be killed by the bile in the stomach. It was tricky."
News of the vaccine's promise was first reported by The Telegraph.
Rick Westhead is a foreign affairs writer at the Star. He was based in India as the Star’s South Asia bureau chief from 2008 until 2011 and reports on international aid and development. Follow him on Twitter @rwesthead
Friday, June 07, 2013
Grandmother, short-story writer,
gardener, gentle soul. Born Jan. 12, 1935, in Labasa, Fiji, died April
22, 2013, in North Vancouver of heart failure, aged 78.
Born
in a tiny village in Fiji, the only child of a former indentured
labourer, Krishna often marvelled at the detours of life that took her
from that village to Auckland, NZ, in the late 1960s, back to Fiji, and
then to North Vancouver in 1975.
No
more improbable than her journey was that of her father, Tribhuwan Dutt
Maharaj. His history is dimmer. It is believed that he came from Uttar
Pradesh in northern India – but it is known that at the age of 12 he ran
away from home to seek his fortune on what he thought would be a grand
adventure. Little did he know he had been tricked into servitude to
British masters.
Five years of back-breaking bonded labour on sugar plantations in Fiji left him with few kind words for the English. But he emerged with the determination to forge a new life. He refused passage back to India, not wanting to face his family without having realized his fortune.
He struggled at first, but credited the birth of Krishna, his only child and his good-luck charm, with a change in his fortunes that saw him eventually running two thriving general stores and owning several properties – including a sugar plantation.
He instilled in Krishna the value of education. Unusually for that time, she was sent away to boarding school. Later, after her arranged marriage to schoolteacher Rishi Deo Sharma, her father gifted her a two-storey brick house in the Fijian capital of Suva. Later, with a growing family, Krishna adapted to a peripatetic lifestyle – to various postings throughout Fiji when Rishi took a job with the government.
In the late 1960s and early ’70s, Fiji was an idyllic British colony, but the winds of change – an emerging call for independence – had begun to stir, and with them a growing concern about the future of the Indian community, the descendents of indentured labourers – British subjects in name, but lacking substantive rights in reality.
And so it was that in 1975, Krishna, her husband and six young children left a comfortable middle-class life in Fiji to start anew in Canada. In doing so she joined the pantheon of classic immigrant stories of sacrifice and hard work in search of a better future for her children.
For a person who had never worked outside the home, Canada was a new experience. Krishna and Rishi worked various jobs – sometimes two jobs at a time – just to pay the bills before becoming established.
In 1996, within a year of his retirement, Rishi was diagnosed with a terminal illness and died shortly after. Krishna withdrew into a shell. But with the encouragement of her family she emerged stronger and discovered a talent for gardening. She took great pride in it, and just a week before suffering a heart attack she had a plan in place for spring planting. Of her other talents (her short stories were published in Hindi-language papers) she rarely spoke.
Not one for ostentation, she rarely mentioned the successes of her children – among them a university professor, a doctor and a Cambridge and Oxford-educated scholar – or her grandchildren, who include a schoolteacher and an Ivy League-educated lawyer.
What of her garden, now awash with spring flowers? It blooms, as does Krishna’s legacy.
Five years of back-breaking bonded labour on sugar plantations in Fiji left him with few kind words for the English. But he emerged with the determination to forge a new life. He refused passage back to India, not wanting to face his family without having realized his fortune.
He struggled at first, but credited the birth of Krishna, his only child and his good-luck charm, with a change in his fortunes that saw him eventually running two thriving general stores and owning several properties – including a sugar plantation.
He instilled in Krishna the value of education. Unusually for that time, she was sent away to boarding school. Later, after her arranged marriage to schoolteacher Rishi Deo Sharma, her father gifted her a two-storey brick house in the Fijian capital of Suva. Later, with a growing family, Krishna adapted to a peripatetic lifestyle – to various postings throughout Fiji when Rishi took a job with the government.
In the late 1960s and early ’70s, Fiji was an idyllic British colony, but the winds of change – an emerging call for independence – had begun to stir, and with them a growing concern about the future of the Indian community, the descendents of indentured labourers – British subjects in name, but lacking substantive rights in reality.
And so it was that in 1975, Krishna, her husband and six young children left a comfortable middle-class life in Fiji to start anew in Canada. In doing so she joined the pantheon of classic immigrant stories of sacrifice and hard work in search of a better future for her children.
For a person who had never worked outside the home, Canada was a new experience. Krishna and Rishi worked various jobs – sometimes two jobs at a time – just to pay the bills before becoming established.
In 1996, within a year of his retirement, Rishi was diagnosed with a terminal illness and died shortly after. Krishna withdrew into a shell. But with the encouragement of her family she emerged stronger and discovered a talent for gardening. She took great pride in it, and just a week before suffering a heart attack she had a plan in place for spring planting. Of her other talents (her short stories were published in Hindi-language papers) she rarely spoke.
Not one for ostentation, she rarely mentioned the successes of her children – among them a university professor, a doctor and a Cambridge and Oxford-educated scholar – or her grandchildren, who include a schoolteacher and an Ivy League-educated lawyer.
What of her garden, now awash with spring flowers? It blooms, as does Krishna’s legacy.
Parnesh Sharma is Krishna’s son.
Monday, June 03, 2013
In Turkey: Days of Anti-Government Protests and Harsh Crackdowns
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Story and photos: In Focus (The Atlantic)
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