As the first sheet of the bubble paper is unwrapped from the roll by the packers tomorrow, the one bubble that had rested in my heart might burst, oozing out my emotions and angst at having to leave Pune.
Ever since the seeds of my relocation plan germinated, I have been trying to keep it away from sunlight, lest it sprouts faster, grows taller and blooms, all too soon. I had watered it all right, sunned it, too, occasionally, but also kept it under shade, carefully soaking it into my Pune stint. I did not want it to snatch from me what this city showered me with, apart from warmth and cheer. It gave me the most delightful gift that life can offer: it gave me friends.
The relocation spasms might not have been so alarming had I not met my friends here. Three years ago, when I had to relocate from Chennai, I was not so devastated as I knew a new life beckoned my family, away from the hustle of the big city life. Pune? How will the city be? But the city began drenching me in its character almost spontaneously. The city was nonchalant, but not cold; it was laid-back, but not indifferent, it was quiet, but not dreary. Pune had a heart of a small city with a soul of a large one; it opened its warm arms to me and my family.
Now the shift is happening again; this time the city is not alien. After all, Chennai had tolerated me for 10 years. The lanes will be familiar; and I hope to find the familiar faces of the milkman, the boy at the neighbouring grocery store, the vegetable seller. The city has been special to me in a number of ways. It helped me evolve from being a Calcuttan to a Chennaiite with much ado. It slipped its easy charm into my psyche and I took to the city like a fish to water.
Today, as I think about moving out of Pune, I am swarmed by a thousand emotions. I am not really apprehensive. But I can spot a few butterflies, flapping their colourful wings in my stomach, making me wriggle occasionally. I do hope to soak in the same camaraderie that Chennai as a city articulated when I arrived one November morning from Calcutta.
So as the final bubble paper is wrapped and the lorry loaded, I will have managed to snatch from Pune a rich treasure, a plunder, a cache……of friends. What better return gift can I ask for from any city?
Monday, March 12, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
The scorned scion
So Akhilesh Yadav’s red cap got the green signal from the Uttar Pradesh electorate, which has systematically ripped apart Rahul Gandhi’s white topi that lies tattered in the dusty terrain of the state.
The electorate spurned the advances of one scion, but warmly embraced the other. Wonder why the Congress failed to make any dent into its once-strong fort? Worse, Amethi and Rae Bareli, the Nehru-Gandhi family’s traditional boroughs have left the dynasty battered and bruised.
Mayawati’s Bahujan Samaj Party had to go anyway because of the elephantine levels of corruption her regime took the state into, making it even more “bimaru” than ever. The only imprint of her government had been her multi-crore giant statue projects that are left littered all over the state, specially the capital city of Lucknow. Maya’s phenomenal rise to power and her promises to uplift Dalits and raise their standard of life has remained empty, unlike her overflowing personal coffers.
Coming back to the Congress question: why couldn’t Rahul Gandhi manage to leave a mark despite his attempts at taking himself so seriously as the leader of the masses? Akhilesh Yadav scored all his goals with his “bicycle kicks”, leaving India’s post-colonial dynasty scurrying for cover.
The country has had enough of dynasties I think. The Congress and its sycophants have dented the democratic principles of the country enough. The electorate of the 1950s and 60s, fresh from a colonial hangover, rooted for this dynastic concept to fill up the leadership vacuum. They wanted monarch-style icons and the Congress was only too pleased to have its plate full with the Nehru-Gandhi lineage. What the party could not do was look ahead and groom a few leaders. They stuck to the idea of “ruling” the people rather than getting people to “represent” the electorate.
Today, people want someone from their own to don the leadership cap. Agreed, Akhilesh Yadav is also a scion, but has probably managed to connect better with the electorate with his rustic image, far removed from the sophisticated one of Rahul Gandhi.
But the Congress will never give up. In all probability, it will begin portraying Rahul’s sister, Priyanka, as another leader to reckon with. But the electorate is tired of the ultra-chic and stylish Gandhi family. The mandate’s message is clear: they want representatives, not rulers anymore.
Elections and the polity with its lack of convincing leaders are left with a hope: that Akhilesh Yadav, who might seem promising enough with an environmental engineering background, does not become another non-performing asset of a rich, influential family.
The electorate spurned the advances of one scion, but warmly embraced the other. Wonder why the Congress failed to make any dent into its once-strong fort? Worse, Amethi and Rae Bareli, the Nehru-Gandhi family’s traditional boroughs have left the dynasty battered and bruised.
Mayawati’s Bahujan Samaj Party had to go anyway because of the elephantine levels of corruption her regime took the state into, making it even more “bimaru” than ever. The only imprint of her government had been her multi-crore giant statue projects that are left littered all over the state, specially the capital city of Lucknow. Maya’s phenomenal rise to power and her promises to uplift Dalits and raise their standard of life has remained empty, unlike her overflowing personal coffers.
Coming back to the Congress question: why couldn’t Rahul Gandhi manage to leave a mark despite his attempts at taking himself so seriously as the leader of the masses? Akhilesh Yadav scored all his goals with his “bicycle kicks”, leaving India’s post-colonial dynasty scurrying for cover.
The country has had enough of dynasties I think. The Congress and its sycophants have dented the democratic principles of the country enough. The electorate of the 1950s and 60s, fresh from a colonial hangover, rooted for this dynastic concept to fill up the leadership vacuum. They wanted monarch-style icons and the Congress was only too pleased to have its plate full with the Nehru-Gandhi lineage. What the party could not do was look ahead and groom a few leaders. They stuck to the idea of “ruling” the people rather than getting people to “represent” the electorate.
Today, people want someone from their own to don the leadership cap. Agreed, Akhilesh Yadav is also a scion, but has probably managed to connect better with the electorate with his rustic image, far removed from the sophisticated one of Rahul Gandhi.
But the Congress will never give up. In all probability, it will begin portraying Rahul’s sister, Priyanka, as another leader to reckon with. But the electorate is tired of the ultra-chic and stylish Gandhi family. The mandate’s message is clear: they want representatives, not rulers anymore.
Elections and the polity with its lack of convincing leaders are left with a hope: that Akhilesh Yadav, who might seem promising enough with an environmental engineering background, does not become another non-performing asset of a rich, influential family.
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