Her hair was shabby, unkempt. She wore an ill-fitting dress that almost reached her ankle. The string of colourful beads in different shapes that she wore around her neck revealed more of the red discoloured string. I could hear a faint jingle of coins in her tightly closed fist as she was loitering around the biscuit counter in a supermarket, her tiny frame barely reaching till the beginning of the second lower shelf.
I was contemplating whether to stock more of those low-calorie oats crackers, of which I already had two packets in my grocery shelf when I saw this little girl looking blankly at the variety of biscuits. Do I help her out? I asked myself, but somehow restrained myself as I did not want to scare her away. She might want to check out for herself, rather than be treated patronisingly. I hesitated again. I wanted to help her, lost as she was craning her neck to see the stack of biscuits kept on top.
“Ei, kya chahiye (what do you want)?” the somewhat suspicious employee of the supermarket hollered down the narrow corridor amid the shelves stacked with biscuits on one side and high-calorie snacks on the opposite side. The little girl, who might not have crossed eight years, dropped the two two-rupee coins in fright. She scampered under the shelves for her two coins and fished them out. She then dusted the two coins on her dirty frock and held them into her tight fist. I later saw her near the counter nervously waiting in the side for her small packet of the four-rupee biscuit to be billed.
So she finally managed to find the biscuit, I thought.
She was not in the queue; she did not know she had to be in queue. Just then a woman walked in from the other side and tried elbowing me out to get her two-litre Bisleri water bottle to be billed. I politely asked her to follow the queue and went closer to the counter. The little girl still patiently waited near the counter, clasping her biscuit in one hand and her coins in her right fist. It seemed the man behind the counter, too, pretended he had not seen the little girl. When my turn came, I requested him to get the little girl’s bill done. She looked at me, her blank eyes not conveying anything, but just happy that she would finally get her biscuit billed. She could now settle for what could be her evening snack, or even dinner. I realised she might have been checking out the biscuit that would suit her budget.
“Here take,” the man behind the counter almost flung the bill at her. Her eyes sparkled as she held on to the tiny glucose biscuit packet and ran down the steps, as if celebrating her victory.
The man then billed all that I had placed in my shopping basket and handed me the bill in my hand with a polite “Thank you”.
I walked down the same flight of steps that the girl had just danced down a few minutes back, but there was a difference: there was no spring in my strides. I walked down, deep in thought, about this India, about this little girl’s India, about the people who are part of this India, and about the people who treat this India. The same man behind the counter had shown two distinctly different ways of handing over the bills; his conditioned politeness obviously tilting towards the credit card holders, and a natural disdain for shabbily dressed people with loose change.
I looked into my grocery bag filled with so-called “healthy” cookies, slim milk tetra packs, the rather expensive red and yellow bell peppers, Haldiram’s oil-soaked chota samosas, Amul butter and what I believed was whole wheat bread. The little girl’s eyes disturbed me; it haunted me throughout my walk back home. I kept peeping into my grocery bag. Do I really need all this? Or was it just a passing fancy of buying the sundries attractively stocked in supermarket shelves? A want fuelled by the fact that I could afford it, that I had a credit card that could take care in case I fell short of liquid cash.
I have still not found an answer to that.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Ma(u)lling the planet
The environment ministry has finally banned gutka and tobacco in plastic sachets. Hope it does the same with shampoo sachets. Though the shampoo sachet revolution took place in small towns and villages to attract consumers, the impact it has had on the environment is devastating.
The order also bans provision of free plastic bags by shopkeepers. This looks great on paper. But just how many of us are going to take it seriously?
Whenever I go to buy fruits and vegetables, I have to insist that my purchases are stacked into my cloth bag because the moment I have asked for a kg of peas, like an automated machine, the vegetable vendor’s hand reaches for that horrible, transparent, hazardous, perilous, menacing thing called plastic bag. When I asked my neighbourhood fruit seller why his hand, again like an automated machine, heads for a plastic bag the moment I have asked for half a kg of grapes, he smiled sheepishly. I tried reasoning with him, asking him to stop giving plastic bags, and insist that his customers get their own bags. Before I finished my line, a stylish couple got down from a Pajero and bought a kg each of Washington apples and Nagpur oranges, and a dozen of Kiwis. “Keep the fruits in two separate plastic bags. Do not mix the Kiwis with the other two fruits,” the "madam" ordered as she handed him a 1000-rupee note.
“This is why I keep them, madam,” he answered after handing her the change and ensuring that the couple got into the rear seat of the car and out of his earshot. “I will lose customers if I do not stock plastic.”
“Fair enough,” I sighed. It was obvious that these Pajero and Merc owners, zipping past in their fuel-guzzlers, will certainly not care to choke our planet with plastic.
That was the local shopkeeper. But the endless flow of plastic bags in supermarkets and malls is appalling. First, I have to deposit my jute bag, in which I intend putting my purchases, in the front counter. Fair enough. These malls have to beware of shoplifters, especially during the mad clearance sale rush. But whenever I have gone to the cash counter for payment and then refused those humongous, gory plastic bags with the store names embossed in multi-colour, I am looked at with surprise, even disbelief. And then, when I go to the front counter to collect my jute bag and tuck in my purchases, the entrance security guards look at me as if I am a criminal. So I keep my bill in hand, flaunt it as if assuring them that I am no crook and that I have paid my Rs 499 or Rs 599 for the kurti that I just bought.
It is the same in an upmarket grocery store in Pune called Dorabjee’s. This place has a great brand value for Puneites (sorry Raj Thakeray, for Punekars). It stocks every item under the sun, desi and videsi. There, too, the use of your own bags is discouraged as the baggage counter in very far from the cash counter. I tried telling the cash counter helper to just bill for the items and that I would fill these up in my own bag. He glared at me, and said that I would have to show the bill at the counter and get the number of items I have bought approved by him again. The sheer logistics of having the front counter helper checking all that I have bought all over again just to save the planet from choking a little did not put me off that day. I stopped going to that store after that. But if I did, would I be able to sustain this logistical nightmare?
Why can’t these malls/supermarkets just keep the baggage counter closer to the cash counter and save those concerned about the planet the trouble of being looked at suspiciously? This will save us the trouble of actually feeling apologetic for saying no to plastic. It might, in the long run, save our planet too.
The order also bans provision of free plastic bags by shopkeepers. This looks great on paper. But just how many of us are going to take it seriously?
Whenever I go to buy fruits and vegetables, I have to insist that my purchases are stacked into my cloth bag because the moment I have asked for a kg of peas, like an automated machine, the vegetable vendor’s hand reaches for that horrible, transparent, hazardous, perilous, menacing thing called plastic bag. When I asked my neighbourhood fruit seller why his hand, again like an automated machine, heads for a plastic bag the moment I have asked for half a kg of grapes, he smiled sheepishly. I tried reasoning with him, asking him to stop giving plastic bags, and insist that his customers get their own bags. Before I finished my line, a stylish couple got down from a Pajero and bought a kg each of Washington apples and Nagpur oranges, and a dozen of Kiwis. “Keep the fruits in two separate plastic bags. Do not mix the Kiwis with the other two fruits,” the "madam" ordered as she handed him a 1000-rupee note.
“This is why I keep them, madam,” he answered after handing her the change and ensuring that the couple got into the rear seat of the car and out of his earshot. “I will lose customers if I do not stock plastic.”
“Fair enough,” I sighed. It was obvious that these Pajero and Merc owners, zipping past in their fuel-guzzlers, will certainly not care to choke our planet with plastic.
That was the local shopkeeper. But the endless flow of plastic bags in supermarkets and malls is appalling. First, I have to deposit my jute bag, in which I intend putting my purchases, in the front counter. Fair enough. These malls have to beware of shoplifters, especially during the mad clearance sale rush. But whenever I have gone to the cash counter for payment and then refused those humongous, gory plastic bags with the store names embossed in multi-colour, I am looked at with surprise, even disbelief. And then, when I go to the front counter to collect my jute bag and tuck in my purchases, the entrance security guards look at me as if I am a criminal. So I keep my bill in hand, flaunt it as if assuring them that I am no crook and that I have paid my Rs 499 or Rs 599 for the kurti that I just bought.
It is the same in an upmarket grocery store in Pune called Dorabjee’s. This place has a great brand value for Puneites (sorry Raj Thakeray, for Punekars). It stocks every item under the sun, desi and videsi. There, too, the use of your own bags is discouraged as the baggage counter in very far from the cash counter. I tried telling the cash counter helper to just bill for the items and that I would fill these up in my own bag. He glared at me, and said that I would have to show the bill at the counter and get the number of items I have bought approved by him again. The sheer logistics of having the front counter helper checking all that I have bought all over again just to save the planet from choking a little did not put me off that day. I stopped going to that store after that. But if I did, would I be able to sustain this logistical nightmare?
Why can’t these malls/supermarkets just keep the baggage counter closer to the cash counter and save those concerned about the planet the trouble of being looked at suspiciously? This will save us the trouble of actually feeling apologetic for saying no to plastic. It might, in the long run, save our planet too.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Are we different from Egypt?
So how are we different from Egypt? Is it by just being a democracy?
Our country is a democracy, world’s largest one at that. But we have people’s representatives stashing loads of money in foreign banks. We are a democracy where corruption begins at traffic signals and ends in the highest portals of power.
We are a democracy, but still have to beware of making statements about human rights violations in the garb of Armed Forces Special Power’s Act. We are a democracy, where supporting any group of displaced tribals will invite sedition charges against us. We are a democracy, where social activists have all come under the scanner. We are a democracy, where People’s Union of Civil Liberties has suddenly become a suspicious organisation. We are a democracy where we have to watch our precious land earmarked for Army widows being devoured by land sharks. We are democracy where we have to silently watch our treasury being emptied to fill private coffers in the wake of high-profile sporting events. We are a democracy, where we are helpless seeing tonnes of foodgrains rotting in granaries, while millions are dying of malnutrition and hunger. We are democracy where medical tourism is touted as top revenue grosser, while millions again are denied basic medical facilities. We are a democracy, where the media is gagged by corporate and political vested interests. We are a democracy, where defence deals are struck accompanied by kickbacks. We are a democracy where lush, fertile agricultural land is gifted away almost for free in the name of creating special economic zones. We are a democracy, where high-profile, billion-dollar projects that are certain to rape our environment and displace tribals from their native areas are given go-aheads by a proactive green ministry working under pressure from a government aiming for an investment-friendly climate. We are democracy unshaken by multiple scams.
But when we raise our voices, we are called woolly-headed.
We are a democracy in shackles: corporate shackles, political shackles and real estate shackles.
So are we really different from Egypt?
Our country is a democracy, world’s largest one at that. But we have people’s representatives stashing loads of money in foreign banks. We are a democracy where corruption begins at traffic signals and ends in the highest portals of power.
We are a democracy, but still have to beware of making statements about human rights violations in the garb of Armed Forces Special Power’s Act. We are a democracy, where supporting any group of displaced tribals will invite sedition charges against us. We are a democracy, where social activists have all come under the scanner. We are a democracy, where People’s Union of Civil Liberties has suddenly become a suspicious organisation. We are a democracy where we have to watch our precious land earmarked for Army widows being devoured by land sharks. We are democracy where we have to silently watch our treasury being emptied to fill private coffers in the wake of high-profile sporting events. We are a democracy, where we are helpless seeing tonnes of foodgrains rotting in granaries, while millions are dying of malnutrition and hunger. We are democracy where medical tourism is touted as top revenue grosser, while millions again are denied basic medical facilities. We are a democracy, where the media is gagged by corporate and political vested interests. We are a democracy, where defence deals are struck accompanied by kickbacks. We are a democracy where lush, fertile agricultural land is gifted away almost for free in the name of creating special economic zones. We are a democracy, where high-profile, billion-dollar projects that are certain to rape our environment and displace tribals from their native areas are given go-aheads by a proactive green ministry working under pressure from a government aiming for an investment-friendly climate. We are democracy unshaken by multiple scams.
But when we raise our voices, we are called woolly-headed.
We are a democracy in shackles: corporate shackles, political shackles and real estate shackles.
So are we really different from Egypt?
Monday, December 27, 2010
Dr Sen, you are guilty……of selflessness!
Democracy in our country has been reduced to an impotent yes-man as has been evident in the Raipur Sessions Court in Chhattisgarh that penned the life sentence judgment for the human rights activist and doctor, Binayak Sen.
So what if the judiciary let go of the Bhopal gas tragedy culprits with a mockery of a sentence. They are the corporates and cannot be ruffled. So what if the country’s biggest scamsters are going scot-free after having consistently looted the public exchequer? So what if our political leaders are bending backwards to allow multinationals and local industrialists alike to rape our land and its natural resources and dig down deeper and deeper for precious minerals, displacing natives. So what if the country’s land sharks are consistently devouring rich agricultural land for industrial and real estate. So what if politicians indulge in big, fat weddings for their children. We know where they got the money for the diamonds and gold, the free flowing liquor and the endless course buffets even as more than 70 per cent of the population get to drink dirty, contaminated water and stay hungry for most time of the year. So what when heavy rains inundated Tamil Nadu, rendering thousands homeless, the DMK bosses, including chief minister Karunanidhi and his team, were enjoying Tamil film stars gyrating on stage at a glittering music release function. So what if a Suresh Kalmadi is enjoying his morning walk on the sprawling lawns of his bungalow a few minutes after an eye wash of a CBI raid in his residence. So what if our political leaders deliver provocative speeches, fuelling communal and parochial passions among masses. So what if these hate-speeches fan riots, taking the country back further. So what if the country’s most sacred democratic function, the elections, is rigged indirectly by candidates doling out money for votes. So what if the treadmills and other equipment for the commonwealth games were hired officially at obnoxious rates when they could have been bought. So what if our pillar of democracy, Parliament, went through an entire session without conducting business a single day, wasting crores of tax payers’ money. So what if the fourth estate turns into a corporate pimp, prostitutionising the profession.
But suddenly the country has to wake up to its judicial conscience to prosecute a human rights activists and doctor, whose only fault has been to spread health awareness among poor tribal villagers and raise his voice against those displaced.
Of course, that is not right, Dr Sen. You are a brilliant doctor who could have made millions. Why did you have to give up those green bucks and roam around the tribal hamlets in your quest for their betterment? This democratic nation of ours will never allow the downtrodden to rise. It is a democracy for the rich, the famous, the corporates and the multinationals. See, what this nation has given you in return: A life term. And look how it has treated the Bhopal culprits, or the Rajas and Kalmadis. We are aware, but cannot even scream about so many of our politicians whose personal assets have only multiplied with their years in office.
Dr Sen, now the court has simply said you are guilty. Yes, you should be guilty of your services, of your selflessness, of your activism. You could have been better off earning those millions.
So what if the judiciary let go of the Bhopal gas tragedy culprits with a mockery of a sentence. They are the corporates and cannot be ruffled. So what if the country’s biggest scamsters are going scot-free after having consistently looted the public exchequer? So what if our political leaders are bending backwards to allow multinationals and local industrialists alike to rape our land and its natural resources and dig down deeper and deeper for precious minerals, displacing natives. So what if the country’s land sharks are consistently devouring rich agricultural land for industrial and real estate. So what if politicians indulge in big, fat weddings for their children. We know where they got the money for the diamonds and gold, the free flowing liquor and the endless course buffets even as more than 70 per cent of the population get to drink dirty, contaminated water and stay hungry for most time of the year. So what when heavy rains inundated Tamil Nadu, rendering thousands homeless, the DMK bosses, including chief minister Karunanidhi and his team, were enjoying Tamil film stars gyrating on stage at a glittering music release function. So what if a Suresh Kalmadi is enjoying his morning walk on the sprawling lawns of his bungalow a few minutes after an eye wash of a CBI raid in his residence. So what if our political leaders deliver provocative speeches, fuelling communal and parochial passions among masses. So what if these hate-speeches fan riots, taking the country back further. So what if the country’s most sacred democratic function, the elections, is rigged indirectly by candidates doling out money for votes. So what if the treadmills and other equipment for the commonwealth games were hired officially at obnoxious rates when they could have been bought. So what if our pillar of democracy, Parliament, went through an entire session without conducting business a single day, wasting crores of tax payers’ money. So what if the fourth estate turns into a corporate pimp, prostitutionising the profession.
But suddenly the country has to wake up to its judicial conscience to prosecute a human rights activists and doctor, whose only fault has been to spread health awareness among poor tribal villagers and raise his voice against those displaced.
Of course, that is not right, Dr Sen. You are a brilliant doctor who could have made millions. Why did you have to give up those green bucks and roam around the tribal hamlets in your quest for their betterment? This democratic nation of ours will never allow the downtrodden to rise. It is a democracy for the rich, the famous, the corporates and the multinationals. See, what this nation has given you in return: A life term. And look how it has treated the Bhopal culprits, or the Rajas and Kalmadis. We are aware, but cannot even scream about so many of our politicians whose personal assets have only multiplied with their years in office.
Dr Sen, now the court has simply said you are guilty. Yes, you should be guilty of your services, of your selflessness, of your activism. You could have been better off earning those millions.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Heroes of democracy
Biharis have done it. This often ridiculed group of people have shown they are the real heroes of democracy. They came out of the Laloo Prasad Yadav spell five years back when they voted for change, and catapulted Nitish Kumar, the socialist follower of Ram Manohar Lohia, to chief ministership. Today, they ensured he remains the state’s chief minister for the second consecutive term, throwing the anti-incumbency psephological concerns to the winds.
As chief minister, Nitish Kumar had concentrated on long-delayed projects, built bridges, laid non-existent roads, kept crime in check, appointed over 1 lakh school teachers, encouraged the girl child to go to school by providing her uniforms and cycle and ensured doctors actually attended to primary health centres. To outsiders it might sound like this was his job, and he’d better do it. But the joke that did the rounds in Bihar pre-Nitish Kumar was: people get paid to report for work, and want overtime money to do the work.
Nitish Kumar carefully chose development politics over identity politics: a stark deviation from the typical Indian brand of politicking. He did not allow the hue of alliances to taint his secular and socialist credentials. The shy politician resisted the temptation of bringing ally BJP’s star campaigner, Narendra Modi, to increase his brand equity. He ruffled a few feathers and invited media attention when he politely refused Modi’s oratory services. He chose to keep a low profile, concentrated on development of a state which was termed bimaru (sick). Having concentrated more on work, he did not need speakers, he did his bit with workers. And by keeping Modi out of the picture, he weaned the Muslims from the Laloo Yadav-Ram Vilas Paswan clique.
Gujarat and Uttar Pradesh, too, had returned their respective chief ministers, Narendra Modi and Mayawati, to second terms. To be fair to Modi, he did push Gujarat towards progress, and won over the electorate, more on his development report card. However, he has been unable to shrug off the 2002 ghost. He continues to carry that burden on his saffron shoulders.
Mayawati, on the other hand, tried the unique Brahmin-Dalit coagulation, and it clicked in Uttar Pradesh. But she went overboard with her Dalit and statue politics, erecting elephantine images of herself, her mentor Kanshi Ram and their messiah, Ambedkar. Both Gujarat and Uttar Pradesh rode high on communal and caste politics.
But the Bihar electorate has shown unbridled maturity in shunning identity politics, and diverted its attention to development politics. It has rewarded Nitish Kumar for his multiple achievements and acknowledged the attention he paid to issues that were hitherto ignored during the 15-year tenure of the erstwhile first couple of Bihar: Laloo and Rabri. The election verdict is a lesson for the rest of the country, whose leaders are continuously pushing the electorate into caste, communal and regional politics.
As chief minister, Nitish Kumar had concentrated on long-delayed projects, built bridges, laid non-existent roads, kept crime in check, appointed over 1 lakh school teachers, encouraged the girl child to go to school by providing her uniforms and cycle and ensured doctors actually attended to primary health centres. To outsiders it might sound like this was his job, and he’d better do it. But the joke that did the rounds in Bihar pre-Nitish Kumar was: people get paid to report for work, and want overtime money to do the work.
Nitish Kumar carefully chose development politics over identity politics: a stark deviation from the typical Indian brand of politicking. He did not allow the hue of alliances to taint his secular and socialist credentials. The shy politician resisted the temptation of bringing ally BJP’s star campaigner, Narendra Modi, to increase his brand equity. He ruffled a few feathers and invited media attention when he politely refused Modi’s oratory services. He chose to keep a low profile, concentrated on development of a state which was termed bimaru (sick). Having concentrated more on work, he did not need speakers, he did his bit with workers. And by keeping Modi out of the picture, he weaned the Muslims from the Laloo Yadav-Ram Vilas Paswan clique.
Gujarat and Uttar Pradesh, too, had returned their respective chief ministers, Narendra Modi and Mayawati, to second terms. To be fair to Modi, he did push Gujarat towards progress, and won over the electorate, more on his development report card. However, he has been unable to shrug off the 2002 ghost. He continues to carry that burden on his saffron shoulders.
Mayawati, on the other hand, tried the unique Brahmin-Dalit coagulation, and it clicked in Uttar Pradesh. But she went overboard with her Dalit and statue politics, erecting elephantine images of herself, her mentor Kanshi Ram and their messiah, Ambedkar. Both Gujarat and Uttar Pradesh rode high on communal and caste politics.
But the Bihar electorate has shown unbridled maturity in shunning identity politics, and diverted its attention to development politics. It has rewarded Nitish Kumar for his multiple achievements and acknowledged the attention he paid to issues that were hitherto ignored during the 15-year tenure of the erstwhile first couple of Bihar: Laloo and Rabri. The election verdict is a lesson for the rest of the country, whose leaders are continuously pushing the electorate into caste, communal and regional politics.
Friday, November 12, 2010
‘Car’bon footprints
Our Environment Minister Jairam Ramesh has said it is “criminal” to drive around in SUVs and BMWs that typically run on diesel, a commodity heavily subsidised in India for farmers and priority sectors. However, rich owners of luxury vehicles also come under this umbrella of subsidised diesel, which along with LPG and kerosene, is costing the exchequer Rs 51,000 crore. This is an amount, India as a developing country cannot afford, apart from the carbon emissions these vehicles belch out.
Obviously, the immature solution that came to my mind initially was blanket cancellation of diesel subsidy. Then came another wave of thought that suggested a creation of a two-window outlet of diesel, the subsidised one for farmers and the non-subsidised one for the SUVs and other luxury vehicles. This was again a self-defeating solution as it would lead to a thriving black marketing. I then borrowed a suggestion of the Kirit Parikh Commission that an additional levy on such luxury car owners would limit their sales. Discouraging the use of such fuel-guzzlers through stinging fiscal barbs might discourage buyers and thereby bring down the sales and carbon emissions too. But will the automobile lobby that has a lot at stake in the industry be a silent observer to this leash? Environmentalists are also crying hoarse over lack of an efficient public transport system to ensure reduction in carbon emissions.
There is an emotional angle to this too. The aspirational levels of middle class Indians have grown. The previous generation, which travelled sleeper class in trains and boarded buses to college and work, now wish they and their children could travel in comfort. They want to relive their youth through their children, and in the process have forgotten to imbibe the virtues of a green lifestyle into the psyche of the generation next. Buying a bike for college-going children so that they need not rub their shoulders with sweaty fellow passengers is a vacuum of wisdom. The lure of commercials backed by easy consumer loans has also made it easier for the middle class to satiate its appetite for luxury. Then, there is this typical urban “let’s go on a long drive” culture. I personally feel such aimless drives are not remotely romantic. Added to that are the blobs of carbon footprints they leave behind. The romantics can probably try long bicycle rides. It could recreate the old-world charm.
Finally, there is the pressure of peer. The increasing system of living in gated communities has led to being “noticed” in vehicle upgrades. This psyche of owning a high-end vehicle elevates their standing among the community, prodding to more me-too owners of such cars. But such emotional arguments obviously cannot find itself a solution to fuel -guzzling cars and carbon emissions. And it will certainly not succeed in awaking green consciousness.
In any case, green campaigners prodding people to use bicycles for short distances or public transport are branded outrageous suggestions by the affluent middle class. And, this argument does not even reach the ears of the upper class, which fancies keeping a fleet of high-end fuel-guzzlers.
So, carbon emissions cannot be argued on an emotional platform. Research on increasing the vehicle’s efficiency of fuel consumption will probably atone for our sinful marks of carbon footprints.
Obviously, the immature solution that came to my mind initially was blanket cancellation of diesel subsidy. Then came another wave of thought that suggested a creation of a two-window outlet of diesel, the subsidised one for farmers and the non-subsidised one for the SUVs and other luxury vehicles. This was again a self-defeating solution as it would lead to a thriving black marketing. I then borrowed a suggestion of the Kirit Parikh Commission that an additional levy on such luxury car owners would limit their sales. Discouraging the use of such fuel-guzzlers through stinging fiscal barbs might discourage buyers and thereby bring down the sales and carbon emissions too. But will the automobile lobby that has a lot at stake in the industry be a silent observer to this leash? Environmentalists are also crying hoarse over lack of an efficient public transport system to ensure reduction in carbon emissions.
There is an emotional angle to this too. The aspirational levels of middle class Indians have grown. The previous generation, which travelled sleeper class in trains and boarded buses to college and work, now wish they and their children could travel in comfort. They want to relive their youth through their children, and in the process have forgotten to imbibe the virtues of a green lifestyle into the psyche of the generation next. Buying a bike for college-going children so that they need not rub their shoulders with sweaty fellow passengers is a vacuum of wisdom. The lure of commercials backed by easy consumer loans has also made it easier for the middle class to satiate its appetite for luxury. Then, there is this typical urban “let’s go on a long drive” culture. I personally feel such aimless drives are not remotely romantic. Added to that are the blobs of carbon footprints they leave behind. The romantics can probably try long bicycle rides. It could recreate the old-world charm.
Finally, there is the pressure of peer. The increasing system of living in gated communities has led to being “noticed” in vehicle upgrades. This psyche of owning a high-end vehicle elevates their standing among the community, prodding to more me-too owners of such cars. But such emotional arguments obviously cannot find itself a solution to fuel -guzzling cars and carbon emissions. And it will certainly not succeed in awaking green consciousness.
In any case, green campaigners prodding people to use bicycles for short distances or public transport are branded outrageous suggestions by the affluent middle class. And, this argument does not even reach the ears of the upper class, which fancies keeping a fleet of high-end fuel-guzzlers.
So, carbon emissions cannot be argued on an emotional platform. Research on increasing the vehicle’s efficiency of fuel consumption will probably atone for our sinful marks of carbon footprints.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Of overflowing coffers and empty conscience
There is a children’s short story in Hindi about a tight-fisted king whose subjects seek his help during a famine. His matter-of-fact reply is, “Today it is famine, tomorrow, it could be an earthquake, the day after, people would be dying of poverty. If I go around helping them, what will happen to me and my treasury?” [Striking resemblance to our politicians].
When his subjects request him to part with some money from his overflowing coffers, the king retorts that it is his money and he would do what he wanted with it: boil it and drink or even fry it. It was none of the business of his subjects.
Seeing people in distress, an old monk decides to help them by tricking the king. He approaches the king with false praises and asks him for some offering, saying he would take a rupee on the first day and its double the next day, and a double of what he took the second day on the third and go on with the double of the previous day for 20 days. The king was only too eager to part with what he thought was a tiny amount from his treasury. But mathematics beat the king as he realised he had parted with Rs 10,48,575 at the end of 20 days.
I wish we had a monk in our midst to fool our Kalmadis and Rajas. What else is the solution to dissolve our corrupt rajas in white? For starters, the ruling Congress sacked Ashok Chavan as Maharashtra chief minister and Suresh Kalmadi as Congress Parliamentary Party secretary as soon as the Obamas punched their return ticket. However, the main course of action remains to be seen. Suresh Kalmadi retains his position in the Indian Olympics Association as well as his MP status.
The next storm brewing over the capital is the 2G spectrum scam. The Manmohan Singh government is caught between the Supreme Court questioning the continuation of the telecom minister, A. Raja, in the Union Cabinet in the wake of the Rs 1.7 lakh crore scam and keeping its key ally, the DMK, in good humour. The Supreme Court has slammed the CBI for “dragging its feet” on the 2G spectrum scam and called its investigation “slipshod”. It also questioned the continuation of A. Raja as telecom minister.
The DMK, will not tolerate the removal of its minister, A. Raja, as it would be seen as admission of guilt. This will not work well for Karunanidhi’s DMK, in view of its image in the Assembly elections in six months’ time. Karunanidhi has carefully polished the chief ministerial chair for his son, M.K. Stalin, and wants no curtains on his Dravidian drama. But, he is also carefully treading his path. Rahul Gandhi’s efforts to mobilise the youth in Tamil Nadu might fracture the DMK’s base and the doting father does not want to ruin the dynasty after having carefully worked on it. So the choice of guilt, UPA alliance and Assembly elections hang heavily on Karunanidhi’s old shoulders. That could be the reason the DMK fired a cracker this Diwali season, using the Dalit wick. It said sacking Raja might not bode well for the UPA as he is the Dalit face of the alliance. This salvo might work, as both the parties hope to cash in on the Dalit votebank in the Tamil Nadu Assemble elections.
A good friend pointed out that Suresh Kalmadi belonged to his “home state” and, he was, therefore, ashamed of his deeds. Do not worry, my friend. All our Indian friends will have some reason to be ashamed. Every state has its own share of ministers who have mopped up money. In other words, every state has corrupt politicians. Jai Hind. We are all in a Sorry State.
When his subjects request him to part with some money from his overflowing coffers, the king retorts that it is his money and he would do what he wanted with it: boil it and drink or even fry it. It was none of the business of his subjects.
Seeing people in distress, an old monk decides to help them by tricking the king. He approaches the king with false praises and asks him for some offering, saying he would take a rupee on the first day and its double the next day, and a double of what he took the second day on the third and go on with the double of the previous day for 20 days. The king was only too eager to part with what he thought was a tiny amount from his treasury. But mathematics beat the king as he realised he had parted with Rs 10,48,575 at the end of 20 days.
I wish we had a monk in our midst to fool our Kalmadis and Rajas. What else is the solution to dissolve our corrupt rajas in white? For starters, the ruling Congress sacked Ashok Chavan as Maharashtra chief minister and Suresh Kalmadi as Congress Parliamentary Party secretary as soon as the Obamas punched their return ticket. However, the main course of action remains to be seen. Suresh Kalmadi retains his position in the Indian Olympics Association as well as his MP status.
The next storm brewing over the capital is the 2G spectrum scam. The Manmohan Singh government is caught between the Supreme Court questioning the continuation of the telecom minister, A. Raja, in the Union Cabinet in the wake of the Rs 1.7 lakh crore scam and keeping its key ally, the DMK, in good humour. The Supreme Court has slammed the CBI for “dragging its feet” on the 2G spectrum scam and called its investigation “slipshod”. It also questioned the continuation of A. Raja as telecom minister.
The DMK, will not tolerate the removal of its minister, A. Raja, as it would be seen as admission of guilt. This will not work well for Karunanidhi’s DMK, in view of its image in the Assembly elections in six months’ time. Karunanidhi has carefully polished the chief ministerial chair for his son, M.K. Stalin, and wants no curtains on his Dravidian drama. But, he is also carefully treading his path. Rahul Gandhi’s efforts to mobilise the youth in Tamil Nadu might fracture the DMK’s base and the doting father does not want to ruin the dynasty after having carefully worked on it. So the choice of guilt, UPA alliance and Assembly elections hang heavily on Karunanidhi’s old shoulders. That could be the reason the DMK fired a cracker this Diwali season, using the Dalit wick. It said sacking Raja might not bode well for the UPA as he is the Dalit face of the alliance. This salvo might work, as both the parties hope to cash in on the Dalit votebank in the Tamil Nadu Assemble elections.
A good friend pointed out that Suresh Kalmadi belonged to his “home state” and, he was, therefore, ashamed of his deeds. Do not worry, my friend. All our Indian friends will have some reason to be ashamed. Every state has its own share of ministers who have mopped up money. In other words, every state has corrupt politicians. Jai Hind. We are all in a Sorry State.
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