Battle-weary gunmen in the world's most lawless continent--tired of killing each other--have a new, more lucrative avocation: piracy.
A helpless world watches as African anarchy spills over into the Arabian Sea and Somali pirates gore into profits of merchant shipping around the Horn of Africa (most of which is Somalian border).
Now wannabe pirates from other neighbouring countries are joining in. They too want to drive around in swanky new SUVs, have two-day long weddings with "goat meat", and marry the best-looking girls in their villages and towns--like the star pirates (as reported by a news agency from Eyl, a hitherto insignificant fishing outpost in Somalia that has turned into headquarters for the business).
In acts that would give Johnny Depp a run for his money, Somali pirates have hijacked 33 ships this year alone. Some have been released after multi-million dollar ransom payments by shipping companies. However, 200 crew and cargo of 12 more vessels still remain in their custody.
The modern-day buccaneers attack ship after ship passing through the Gulf of Aden, which leads to the Suez Canal--the maritime short cut between Europe and Asia. While US, Russian, Indian and European warships have started patrolling the area to ward off the outlaws, the attacks have actually increased in the last few weeks.
Even as an Indian Navy frigate sank a pirate "mother ship" on Tuesday, the high-sea robbers took control of 3 more vessels since Saturday, among them a prize catch--a Saudi oil tanker with crude worth more than 110 million US dollars. The ransom has been set at 25 million dollars. The deadline: 10 days.
In the meantime, the good men twiddle their thumbs and bite their nails, frustrated with having to start a new war on terror in this 1 million square mile marine battleground.
They realise the problem that is Somalia. Destitute, chaotic and utterly out of control. The US tried to bring a semblance of order once, in the late eighties. But they pressed the eject button quickly after the black-hawk-down episode, fearing another Vietnam. Since then, the country has descended into ever greater disorder, with a moderate Islamist government--backed by Ethiopia and the West--fighting hardline Islamist rebels.
The Somalian prime minister has already thrown up his hands in despair about the piracy problem. The US meanwhile is worried that a counterpiracy UN resolution, which provides the international community authority to fight back, is expiring this December.
Some frightened shipping companies are planning to go round the Cape of Good Hope (their last hope of still being in business). But this will nullify the purpose the historic Suez Canal was built for.
However, all hope is not lost. There's good news that the Somalian government has finally allowed other navies to enter their territorial waters, when in hot pursuit of these new breed of criminals. And the Indian Navy, having drawn first blood, is raring to go in.
The best response would be for all the powerful navies to come together and kick the backsides of this bunch of goons, running riot in international waters and holding the world to ransom.
I say the Saudis should kick this off by refusing to negotiate the 25-million-dollar ransom. Considering that crude has come down by almost 60 per cent in the last few months, they should refuse to pick up the pirates' phone call unless they are ready to start talking 10 million.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Six Sigma Shettys
The Shettys, who run over 10,000 'Udupi' restaurants in the western and southern part of India (now some in UK and US too), have achieved Six Sigma quality level--without the faintest idea what Six Sigma is!
Six Sigma, simply put, is a measure of how good a process is. A manufacturing process, for example, running at Six Sigma level produces no defective products (or rather produces a miniscule 3.4 defects per million), where a defect is anything that is outside of customer specification / expectation.
Anyone who has been to Vaishali restaurant in Pune, Shivkrupa in Thane or Shivsagar in Mumbai will attest to the fact that defects are indeed probably less than 3.4 per million of the dishes these Shettys serve in their restuarants across India.
While hundreds of large, multinational organisations--many of them Fortune 500 companies--are still struggling to achieve Six Sigma twenty years after it was formulated, how did a bunch of south Indian people, ignorant of any formal quality processes, do it? Just like that.
Apart from the uniform quality level of the food these joints serve, it is also amazing that they all have the same look and feel, as if they all belong to a McDonalds-like chain.
Whenever any middle or upper-middle-class Indian in Maharashtra, Goa, Karnataka or Kerala, wants to have a quick snack or a reasonable, hygienic meal outside, he or she steps into one of these 'Udupi' restaurants. The establishment typically has a one-word name (max two words), a pleasant interior, clean tables, shining floor and clean crockery. The orders are taken ASAP and good, tasty food is delivered almost instantly.
Most of these restaurants are vegetarian. There is typically a small outdoor section, sometimes an air-conditioned section inside and definitely a marble-counter, where a bespectacled gentleman is counting money while a mildly-meancing, mustachioed man stands next to him keeping a watch on all the goings-on in the restaurant. A wink or a nod from him is enough to send one of the waiters scurrying to a table where a customer might be just beginning to get irritated by a couple of minutes' wait.
These restaurants, whicever state they are run in, leave you with the same satisfactory experience that makes you keep going back. Not a voice is ever raised by any those working there. The food is reasonably priced, albeit a little on the higher side for the ones in good locations with better interiors. They seem to have an endless supply of good, decent, hard-working and unambitious waiters (I have seen some of them working as waiters for more than a decade). Makes you wonder what the secret of their success is.
A study of the 'Udupi' restaurants is actually a study into the culture of a united, ambitious and enterprising--yet low-profile--community, referred to as the Shettys, of whom we all know Shilpa and Suniel because of their Bollywood connection (Suniel too owns a bunch of such restuarnts). However, Shetty is just the most common surname amoung this community of people who are actually 'Bunts.' (BTW, Aishwarya Rai is also a bunt).
The Bunt people belong to the Dakshin Kanada and Udupi districts of Karnataka (hence, the first few eateries started by them were known as Udupi restaurants, and the name stuck on). They speak Tulu, a cross between Kannada and Tamil. Until a few years ago, the bunts lived in large joint families--sometimes running into hundreds--owning large tracts of farmland. With the government seizing land under the Land Ceiling Act, they were forced to seek newer pastures. Some of them moved to Mumbai and opened restaurants, and now they own them in several states, plus some 4-star hotels.
As one restaurant succeeds, the Shetty owner hands over its reins to a close associate or relative and moves on to open another one in yet another prominent location or a new town. He also takes with him some of his experienced waiters and cooks to the new one, while more young men from his village--or neighbouring ones--back fill their places. The old staff then replicates the recipes, cooking, serving and cleaning processes, while training new cooks and waiters brought in from back home, thus extending the 'Shetty process' efficiency to the new eatery.
All the Shettys purchase most of their kitchen appliances, utensils, crockery, etc. in bulk from the same supplier (who again is from their own community and knows their requirements well). The interiors are done by trusted contractors, who know their decoration style initimately and keep replicating it across locations, with their teams and income growing along with that of the Shettys.
Whenever one bunt owner is in trouble, financial or otherwise, he approaches the community elders--who meet at least once a month--and they lend a hand to help him with the promise that he will reciprocate when it is someone else's turn. It is this community support which has helped them acquire a lot of muscle which allows them to handle problems when they face nasty situations while running bars (the Shettys ran the largest number of dance bars in Mumbai until they were banned and even today run most of the regular bars).
The tight-knit nature of this enterprising community, the motivation to amass wealth--while keeping a low profile in the societies they live in--has transformed these hitherto hinterlanders into highly successful entrepreneurs across half the country's cities.
And the majority of them are restarauteurs who are doing their business in a style that would have put on the face of Edward Deming (the late founding father of quality management) a great smile.
Six Sigma, simply put, is a measure of how good a process is. A manufacturing process, for example, running at Six Sigma level produces no defective products (or rather produces a miniscule 3.4 defects per million), where a defect is anything that is outside of customer specification / expectation.
Anyone who has been to Vaishali restaurant in Pune, Shivkrupa in Thane or Shivsagar in Mumbai will attest to the fact that defects are indeed probably less than 3.4 per million of the dishes these Shettys serve in their restuarants across India.
While hundreds of large, multinational organisations--many of them Fortune 500 companies--are still struggling to achieve Six Sigma twenty years after it was formulated, how did a bunch of south Indian people, ignorant of any formal quality processes, do it? Just like that.
Apart from the uniform quality level of the food these joints serve, it is also amazing that they all have the same look and feel, as if they all belong to a McDonalds-like chain.
Whenever any middle or upper-middle-class Indian in Maharashtra, Goa, Karnataka or Kerala, wants to have a quick snack or a reasonable, hygienic meal outside, he or she steps into one of these 'Udupi' restaurants. The establishment typically has a one-word name (max two words), a pleasant interior, clean tables, shining floor and clean crockery. The orders are taken ASAP and good, tasty food is delivered almost instantly.
Most of these restaurants are vegetarian. There is typically a small outdoor section, sometimes an air-conditioned section inside and definitely a marble-counter, where a bespectacled gentleman is counting money while a mildly-meancing, mustachioed man stands next to him keeping a watch on all the goings-on in the restaurant. A wink or a nod from him is enough to send one of the waiters scurrying to a table where a customer might be just beginning to get irritated by a couple of minutes' wait.
These restaurants, whicever state they are run in, leave you with the same satisfactory experience that makes you keep going back. Not a voice is ever raised by any those working there. The food is reasonably priced, albeit a little on the higher side for the ones in good locations with better interiors. They seem to have an endless supply of good, decent, hard-working and unambitious waiters (I have seen some of them working as waiters for more than a decade). Makes you wonder what the secret of their success is.
A study of the 'Udupi' restaurants is actually a study into the culture of a united, ambitious and enterprising--yet low-profile--community, referred to as the Shettys, of whom we all know Shilpa and Suniel because of their Bollywood connection (Suniel too owns a bunch of such restuarnts). However, Shetty is just the most common surname amoung this community of people who are actually 'Bunts.' (BTW, Aishwarya Rai is also a bunt).
The Bunt people belong to the Dakshin Kanada and Udupi districts of Karnataka (hence, the first few eateries started by them were known as Udupi restaurants, and the name stuck on). They speak Tulu, a cross between Kannada and Tamil. Until a few years ago, the bunts lived in large joint families--sometimes running into hundreds--owning large tracts of farmland. With the government seizing land under the Land Ceiling Act, they were forced to seek newer pastures. Some of them moved to Mumbai and opened restaurants, and now they own them in several states, plus some 4-star hotels.
As one restaurant succeeds, the Shetty owner hands over its reins to a close associate or relative and moves on to open another one in yet another prominent location or a new town. He also takes with him some of his experienced waiters and cooks to the new one, while more young men from his village--or neighbouring ones--back fill their places. The old staff then replicates the recipes, cooking, serving and cleaning processes, while training new cooks and waiters brought in from back home, thus extending the 'Shetty process' efficiency to the new eatery.
All the Shettys purchase most of their kitchen appliances, utensils, crockery, etc. in bulk from the same supplier (who again is from their own community and knows their requirements well). The interiors are done by trusted contractors, who know their decoration style initimately and keep replicating it across locations, with their teams and income growing along with that of the Shettys.
Whenever one bunt owner is in trouble, financial or otherwise, he approaches the community elders--who meet at least once a month--and they lend a hand to help him with the promise that he will reciprocate when it is someone else's turn. It is this community support which has helped them acquire a lot of muscle which allows them to handle problems when they face nasty situations while running bars (the Shettys ran the largest number of dance bars in Mumbai until they were banned and even today run most of the regular bars).
The tight-knit nature of this enterprising community, the motivation to amass wealth--while keeping a low profile in the societies they live in--has transformed these hitherto hinterlanders into highly successful entrepreneurs across half the country's cities.
And the majority of them are restarauteurs who are doing their business in a style that would have put on the face of Edward Deming (the late founding father of quality management) a great smile.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Fashion's 11
Moving the spotlight from a glamourous facade to the dark side of a well-known subject, and delving into its murkier depths has become the trademark of Madhur Bhandarkar (1), fetching him three national awards for best director and a plethora of accolades from critics.
Fashion, as the name suggests, is a film where he rips the haute couture business threadbare, with help from 10 other stellar performances.
However, I had much less fun watching this film, as compared to his earlier ones. The barbs are there, but the vitriol is gone.
There are much fewer caricatures of real-life personalities in the business he zooms in on this time. Most disappointing of all, the dialogue between the menial acolytes of the high and mighty--like the drivers in Page 3--is missing, except for one small conversation between a couple of security guards.
Madhur has probably mellowed with age, or made a small compromise with a world wherein he has to move around meeting people he mocked and ridiculed in his latest film. However, Fashion, like most of his earlier films, leaves you with a smile--a sardonic one as you realise that success in most such competitive businesses comes at the price of happiness.
The film portrays the glamour industry, with the camera chasing a "small town" girl Priyanka Chopra (2)--who has recently won a local beauty contest--now aspiring to becoming a supermodel. Bhandarkar could have chosen someone prettier--say Katrina--fo a movie that is all about fashion and modelling. (BTW, I didn't know Chandigarh was a small town, thanks Madhur!)
Meghana Mathur (Priyanka) moves to Mumbai, despite a protesting father, and with the help of friends like Rohit (3), a gay assistant to a famous fashion designer, and Mugdha Godse(4) (playing pretty decent role for a debut), an experienced model called Janet Sequeira, succeeds in getting a good portfolio done and then a break on the runway.
Yet, she has a long way to go to reach where people like (4) Shonali Gujral (Kangana Ranaut in an ever-improving depiction of a manic-depressive) are--a 'show-stopper', i.e. the one who shows off the best dress in a fashion show and escorts the designer on to the ramp at the end of the show. That Shonali's role is based on the life of ex-supermodel Gitanjali Kashyap, who ended up a drug-addict and was rescued from the streets, is not lost on even the most casual viewer.
Meghana's big break comes when (5) Abhijit Sarin (Arbaaz Khan looking impressive as a fashion business tycoon) takes a liking to her, fires Shonali as the face of his brand and hires her instead.
For Shonali, as big a setback as that is, she is not prepared for the next one--a wardrobe malfunction in the next fashion show. The two blows are enough to send her reeling into a downward spiral until she finds herself on the pavement one day, cameras thrust into her face by TV channels which have just found another story they can re-run all day.
Once Meghna signs the contract for Sarin's brand, via a top modelling agency run by (6) Aneesha (Kitu Gidwani back on the screen after decades), there's no looking back, or at least that's what she thinks.
But, success has its price, and Meghana starts paying her bills. Her boyfriend (7) Maanav (Arjan Bajwa as a struggling model) doesn't like her late night partying with Sarin. So she breaks off with Maanav and Sarin moves her into an expensive flat where they can continue with the romance, leading to Meghna's pregnancy.
When Meghna realizses that she's just the latest plaything for Sarin, she rebels--with disastrous consequences. She loses her brand endorsement contract, and also the show-stopper roles. Then, it's down Shonali street, with more cigarettes, alcohol and drugs...until she wakes up in bed with a black stranger. Overcome by self-disgust, she packs up and leaves. Meghana returns to Chandigarh a silent wreck, numbed by the excesses of the glam world.
Raj Babbar, her father (8), saddened by a broken daughter, makes a U-turn and goads her into returning and retrieving the success that was rightfully hers. When Meghana returns to Mumbai, she apologises to all those she hurt when carried away by success, and they all come back to help her. Except, it is too late for love. Her boyfriend Maanav has moved on and is now engaged.
Her comeback succeeds like never before and she is cast as the show-stopper for leading designer Rohit Khanna's (9) fashion show. Rohit (played by Samir Soni), of course is gay. He has married old classmate Janet just so the Indian society stops pestering him, or more particularly his mother.
Cinematography by Mahesh Limaye (10) is just perfect for what Madhur wants to show--mostly the runway and its spectators. I was most surprised by the new dialogue writer Niranjan Iyengar (11), who has written some brilliant lines in abstract Hindi, lending a sublime touch to a film which focuses mostly on the grime, behind pretty faces and trendy clothes.
Definitely a fine Hindi film, a must for your DVD collection whenever it comes out in that format. I only hope the establishment does not surprise Madhur with a national film award for best director for this one just (like it did with Traffic Signal). From him, we expect a far more arresting film than this. May be he will do that with his next film, Jail.
Fashion, as the name suggests, is a film where he rips the haute couture business threadbare, with help from 10 other stellar performances.
However, I had much less fun watching this film, as compared to his earlier ones. The barbs are there, but the vitriol is gone.
There are much fewer caricatures of real-life personalities in the business he zooms in on this time. Most disappointing of all, the dialogue between the menial acolytes of the high and mighty--like the drivers in Page 3--is missing, except for one small conversation between a couple of security guards.
Madhur has probably mellowed with age, or made a small compromise with a world wherein he has to move around meeting people he mocked and ridiculed in his latest film. However, Fashion, like most of his earlier films, leaves you with a smile--a sardonic one as you realise that success in most such competitive businesses comes at the price of happiness.
The film portrays the glamour industry, with the camera chasing a "small town" girl Priyanka Chopra (2)--who has recently won a local beauty contest--now aspiring to becoming a supermodel. Bhandarkar could have chosen someone prettier--say Katrina--fo a movie that is all about fashion and modelling. (BTW, I didn't know Chandigarh was a small town, thanks Madhur!)
Meghana Mathur (Priyanka) moves to Mumbai, despite a protesting father, and with the help of friends like Rohit (3), a gay assistant to a famous fashion designer, and Mugdha Godse(4) (playing pretty decent role for a debut), an experienced model called Janet Sequeira, succeeds in getting a good portfolio done and then a break on the runway.
Yet, she has a long way to go to reach where people like (4) Shonali Gujral (Kangana Ranaut in an ever-improving depiction of a manic-depressive) are--a 'show-stopper', i.e. the one who shows off the best dress in a fashion show and escorts the designer on to the ramp at the end of the show. That Shonali's role is based on the life of ex-supermodel Gitanjali Kashyap, who ended up a drug-addict and was rescued from the streets, is not lost on even the most casual viewer.
Meghana's big break comes when (5) Abhijit Sarin (Arbaaz Khan looking impressive as a fashion business tycoon) takes a liking to her, fires Shonali as the face of his brand and hires her instead.
For Shonali, as big a setback as that is, she is not prepared for the next one--a wardrobe malfunction in the next fashion show. The two blows are enough to send her reeling into a downward spiral until she finds herself on the pavement one day, cameras thrust into her face by TV channels which have just found another story they can re-run all day.
Once Meghna signs the contract for Sarin's brand, via a top modelling agency run by (6) Aneesha (Kitu Gidwani back on the screen after decades), there's no looking back, or at least that's what she thinks.
But, success has its price, and Meghana starts paying her bills. Her boyfriend (7) Maanav (Arjan Bajwa as a struggling model) doesn't like her late night partying with Sarin. So she breaks off with Maanav and Sarin moves her into an expensive flat where they can continue with the romance, leading to Meghna's pregnancy.
When Meghna realizses that she's just the latest plaything for Sarin, she rebels--with disastrous consequences. She loses her brand endorsement contract, and also the show-stopper roles. Then, it's down Shonali street, with more cigarettes, alcohol and drugs...until she wakes up in bed with a black stranger. Overcome by self-disgust, she packs up and leaves. Meghana returns to Chandigarh a silent wreck, numbed by the excesses of the glam world.
Raj Babbar, her father (8), saddened by a broken daughter, makes a U-turn and goads her into returning and retrieving the success that was rightfully hers. When Meghana returns to Mumbai, she apologises to all those she hurt when carried away by success, and they all come back to help her. Except, it is too late for love. Her boyfriend Maanav has moved on and is now engaged.
Her comeback succeeds like never before and she is cast as the show-stopper for leading designer Rohit Khanna's (9) fashion show. Rohit (played by Samir Soni), of course is gay. He has married old classmate Janet just so the Indian society stops pestering him, or more particularly his mother.
Cinematography by Mahesh Limaye (10) is just perfect for what Madhur wants to show--mostly the runway and its spectators. I was most surprised by the new dialogue writer Niranjan Iyengar (11), who has written some brilliant lines in abstract Hindi, lending a sublime touch to a film which focuses mostly on the grime, behind pretty faces and trendy clothes.
Definitely a fine Hindi film, a must for your DVD collection whenever it comes out in that format. I only hope the establishment does not surprise Madhur with a national film award for best director for this one just (like it did with Traffic Signal). From him, we expect a far more arresting film than this. May be he will do that with his next film, Jail.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Wild West Down South
Ram Gopal Varma, India's biggest mob-movie merchant, must be turning in his bed ever since he read this. The news story that came from the bandlands of Andhra Pradesh this morning would automatically make the screenplay for another of his potboilers. No masala required.
A high-profile sharpshooter, accused of killing an ex-minister (allegedy at the behest of the current chief minister) was done to death in a high-security prison in Anantpur district of A.P. by a triple-murder accused, using makeshift dumbbells. The wife of the deceased ex-minister, Paritala Ravi, is now screaming "bloody murder".
The shooter, J. Srivinasa Reddy, a.k.a. Moddu Seenu, had just turned approver and was about to spill the beans on the conspiracy behind Ravi's assassination (a CBI investigation into the case is still on, 3 years after his death). A frightened administration has eliminated him, charged Ravi's wife.
Paritala Ravi's life story is fodder enough for a typical RGV flick.
The Rayalaseema area of AP--of which Anantpur is the most infamous district--has always been volatile, with bloody factional and caste feuds. But the rise of P. Ravi catapulted it to the cover pages of voilent folklore.
Ravi was the son of a landlord who gave up all his land to the poor and joined the Communist Party. But a couple of Reddy landlords from the same area started grabbing this land from the helpless farmers. The land struggle soon transmogrified into a 30-year killing spree between Ravi's family and friends on the one side and the Reddys and their sons on the other.
Escaping from his home village when his brother was shot dead by the police, Ravi joined the Naxals (like his brother) and came back to wreak vengeance on the Reddys and their henchmen and hack down anyone who stood in his way. He took their wealth and gave away large sums to the poor and needy. He also arranged mass weddings for those who could not afford a ceremony on their big day. A new, telugu Robin Hood had been born.
His popularity got him back into the mainstream and he became a 4-time TDP MLA and labour minister in the Chandrababu Naidu government. Soon after Naidu lost the last elections and YS Rajashekhar Reddy took over the reins of the state, Ravi was gunned down.
His killer Seenu was on the run for 10 months before being captured. In the meantime, he gave an interview to a TV channel bragging how he had shot Ravi right between the eyes. He was making a bomb in the heart of Hyderabad when it went off accidentally, landing him first in hospital and later in prison.
However, Seenu recently decided to turn approver. Enter Omprakash, an inter-state dacoit with three murder charges against him. He was placed in the same barracks as Seenu and, according to him, was being harassed by the shooter. "Seenu did not allow me to write Ram Koti, he kept on asking me to switch off the light," Omprakash seems to have stated as the reason for bludgeoning Seenu to death.
Ram Koti is an endeavour, popular in the south, to gain punya and atone for one's sins by writing the name of Lord Ram a crore times. How exactly Omprakash intends to get on the right side of the Lord now is something RGV will probably have to figure out if and when he scripts a film on this saga.
A high-profile sharpshooter, accused of killing an ex-minister (allegedy at the behest of the current chief minister) was done to death in a high-security prison in Anantpur district of A.P. by a triple-murder accused, using makeshift dumbbells. The wife of the deceased ex-minister, Paritala Ravi, is now screaming "bloody murder".
The shooter, J. Srivinasa Reddy, a.k.a. Moddu Seenu, had just turned approver and was about to spill the beans on the conspiracy behind Ravi's assassination (a CBI investigation into the case is still on, 3 years after his death). A frightened administration has eliminated him, charged Ravi's wife.
Paritala Ravi's life story is fodder enough for a typical RGV flick.
The Rayalaseema area of AP--of which Anantpur is the most infamous district--has always been volatile, with bloody factional and caste feuds. But the rise of P. Ravi catapulted it to the cover pages of voilent folklore.
Ravi was the son of a landlord who gave up all his land to the poor and joined the Communist Party. But a couple of Reddy landlords from the same area started grabbing this land from the helpless farmers. The land struggle soon transmogrified into a 30-year killing spree between Ravi's family and friends on the one side and the Reddys and their sons on the other.
Escaping from his home village when his brother was shot dead by the police, Ravi joined the Naxals (like his brother) and came back to wreak vengeance on the Reddys and their henchmen and hack down anyone who stood in his way. He took their wealth and gave away large sums to the poor and needy. He also arranged mass weddings for those who could not afford a ceremony on their big day. A new, telugu Robin Hood had been born.
His popularity got him back into the mainstream and he became a 4-time TDP MLA and labour minister in the Chandrababu Naidu government. Soon after Naidu lost the last elections and YS Rajashekhar Reddy took over the reins of the state, Ravi was gunned down.
His killer Seenu was on the run for 10 months before being captured. In the meantime, he gave an interview to a TV channel bragging how he had shot Ravi right between the eyes. He was making a bomb in the heart of Hyderabad when it went off accidentally, landing him first in hospital and later in prison.
However, Seenu recently decided to turn approver. Enter Omprakash, an inter-state dacoit with three murder charges against him. He was placed in the same barracks as Seenu and, according to him, was being harassed by the shooter. "Seenu did not allow me to write Ram Koti, he kept on asking me to switch off the light," Omprakash seems to have stated as the reason for bludgeoning Seenu to death.
Ram Koti is an endeavour, popular in the south, to gain punya and atone for one's sins by writing the name of Lord Ram a crore times. How exactly Omprakash intends to get on the right side of the Lord now is something RGV will probably have to figure out if and when he scripts a film on this saga.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Life after 40 (tons)
The unstoppable run machine called Sachin Tendulkar achieved yet another milestone at the Nagpur test. When the reports came in yesterday, it struck me how similar I and he were. We could be confused for twins. Not convinced? Read on...
Sachin scored his 40 th century on Thursday. I just turned 40 recently.
He has made more than 12,000 runs in Test cricket so far. I have smoked more than 12,000 cigarettes. Both of us are likely to score a lot more by the time we are done.
He lives in Mumbai. I live in Pune. Astrologically speaking, we live in the same place (the degree of separation between the two cities is negligible).
He drives a Ferrrari. I drive a Fiat Palio. Same manufacturer, although the make and model are different.
His wife is two years older than him. Mine is two years younger than me. Same difference.
He is a doting dad. So am I.
He has often been criticised for taking time off work using 'lame excuses' like tennis elbow, groin injury, etc. I too have recieved brickbats for taking extended leave from work to pursue genuine passions.
A lot more people remember the times he let the team down than when he was the only reason for the team's success. Same here.
He has other interests apart from cricket, such as the restaurent business and charity. I too dabble in a lot of things apart from work, like blogging, for example.
He is very humble and low-profile. You never see Page 3 pictures of him, partying with the socialites or the glitterati. He rarely talks publicly about his unparalleled success.
I too am very modest about my achievements. I can bet you haven't heard about any of them.
I rest my case!
Sachin scored his 40 th century on Thursday. I just turned 40 recently.
He has made more than 12,000 runs in Test cricket so far. I have smoked more than 12,000 cigarettes. Both of us are likely to score a lot more by the time we are done.
He lives in Mumbai. I live in Pune. Astrologically speaking, we live in the same place (the degree of separation between the two cities is negligible).
He drives a Ferrrari. I drive a Fiat Palio. Same manufacturer, although the make and model are different.
His wife is two years older than him. Mine is two years younger than me. Same difference.
He is a doting dad. So am I.
He has often been criticised for taking time off work using 'lame excuses' like tennis elbow, groin injury, etc. I too have recieved brickbats for taking extended leave from work to pursue genuine passions.
A lot more people remember the times he let the team down than when he was the only reason for the team's success. Same here.
He has other interests apart from cricket, such as the restaurent business and charity. I too dabble in a lot of things apart from work, like blogging, for example.
He is very humble and low-profile. You never see Page 3 pictures of him, partying with the socialites or the glitterati. He rarely talks publicly about his unparalleled success.
I too am very modest about my achievements. I can bet you haven't heard about any of them.
I rest my case!
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Lunatic mission
High on the successful launch of Chandrayan-I, ISRO Chairman Madhavan Nair seems to be on a new, more ambitious mission. He is out to emulate another of America's biggest success stories--Google. Ok, not Google, but Google Earth.
He announced at a convention of Indian cartographers yesterday that ISRO will soon launch a service called 'Bhuvan' (Earth in Sanskrit) which will be better and faster than Google Earth.
His eyes probably glistened with pride when he declared that while Google Earth provides images with resolution of only upto 200 m, "we will provide images upto 10 m resolution". And while Google Earth updates its images every 4 years, we will provide updates every year, he added.
These assertions were dutifully carried in the Indian media the next morning, without anyone so much as doing a Google search to check on these 'facts'.
In fact, Google Earth provides a resolution of anywhere from 15m to 16 cm (o.16m) in some places. Most US maps are of 1 m resolution. In some places, the resolution is deliberately kept lower due to national security and privacy issues. (President APJ Abdul Kalam and ISRO itself objected to some high-resolution images of Indian locations, following which Google reduced their resolution).
Also, all images are current within three years and US images are always kept current.
But who can nudge Mr. Nair into reality when he is in a different orbit. In fact, his enthusiasm seems to have infected a lot of his associates too.
As India's first unmanned mission to moon flew into the main highway to the Earth's satellite, ISRO's director at its tracking center took centrestage. Mr. Shivakumar told the press how it would be inserted into the lunar orbit this Saturday. "Commands are flashed to the spacecraft in the form of digital messages (as if there was another way). The return key in a keyboard is hit and message is processed by the computer and transmitted to the spacecraft. Let me assure that the person who will be hitting this return key on Saturday is under no pressure (not sure why he would be)," he added, his best attempt at scientist humour.
I hope that "the person" knows which keyboard it is and where the "return key" is located. Also, maybe somebody needs to educate these scientists about an invention called the computer mouse.
For all ISRO nerds who seems to have moved into a different, eccentric orbit themselves, it would do well to be reminded that they are only about 40 years behind Mr. Armstrong's giant leap for mankind. And that they need to temper their INSATiable ambitions and at least get the weather data right to begin with just so that some lives could be saved.
He announced at a convention of Indian cartographers yesterday that ISRO will soon launch a service called 'Bhuvan' (Earth in Sanskrit) which will be better and faster than Google Earth.
His eyes probably glistened with pride when he declared that while Google Earth provides images with resolution of only upto 200 m, "we will provide images upto 10 m resolution". And while Google Earth updates its images every 4 years, we will provide updates every year, he added.
These assertions were dutifully carried in the Indian media the next morning, without anyone so much as doing a Google search to check on these 'facts'.
In fact, Google Earth provides a resolution of anywhere from 15m to 16 cm (o.16m) in some places. Most US maps are of 1 m resolution. In some places, the resolution is deliberately kept lower due to national security and privacy issues. (President APJ Abdul Kalam and ISRO itself objected to some high-resolution images of Indian locations, following which Google reduced their resolution).
Also, all images are current within three years and US images are always kept current.
But who can nudge Mr. Nair into reality when he is in a different orbit. In fact, his enthusiasm seems to have infected a lot of his associates too.
As India's first unmanned mission to moon flew into the main highway to the Earth's satellite, ISRO's director at its tracking center took centrestage. Mr. Shivakumar told the press how it would be inserted into the lunar orbit this Saturday. "Commands are flashed to the spacecraft in the form of digital messages (as if there was another way). The return key in a keyboard is hit and message is processed by the computer and transmitted to the spacecraft. Let me assure that the person who will be hitting this return key on Saturday is under no pressure (not sure why he would be)," he added, his best attempt at scientist humour.
I hope that "the person" knows which keyboard it is and where the "return key" is located. Also, maybe somebody needs to educate these scientists about an invention called the computer mouse.
For all ISRO nerds who seems to have moved into a different, eccentric orbit themselves, it would do well to be reminded that they are only about 40 years behind Mr. Armstrong's giant leap for mankind. And that they need to temper their INSATiable ambitions and at least get the weather data right to begin with just so that some lives could be saved.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Non-White House
One of my favourite songs--and a popular country number, sung by both Alan Jackson and the group Brooks and Dunn--goes:
With a first name that is distinctly black, a Muslim middle name (Hussein) and a last name that could be easily confused with that of America's enemy no. 1, few were willing to wager on him in the early stages of the presidential race.
Even when he was contesting the Democratic nomination against Hillary Clinton, most analysts predicted that America was not yet ready for "the change", i.e. a mixed-race president. When Hillary lost the nomination to Obama, their voices became louder as they hinted that if the US of A did not want a white woman in the White House, a black man hardly stood a chance.
In retrospect, Democrat americans were probably indicating that just being a Senator, or the famous wife of a popular but philandering former president was not enough to run for the top job.
As the presidential race gathered steam, Obama surprised everyone with his calm and confident demeanour, his grasp of foreign policy and economic issues and his plans to fix them. And he did this while debating his Republican opponent, the vastly experienced Senator John McCain, a Vietnam war hero and a veteran of Washington politics.
Obama started his campaign with the slogans of 'Change' and 'Hope', terms that resonated well with most Americans--especially the younger ones--and a lot of people around the world. After eight years of Republican rule, a war-weary US, facing unprecedented economic crises and teetering on the brink of recession, decided last night to give Obama the chance to lead the country out of its problems, never mind the colour of his skin.
Anyone who has been to US for a visit (or has lived there) knows how awesome a country built by a bunch of immigrants to begin with can be. It is also probably that way because it was indeed built by waves of people dissatisfied with the societies they lived in and wanted to build a country that was close to what an ideal nation would be like.
Despite its failings, especially on the foreign affairs front, US has become the land which leads the world with opportunities it provides to anyone who wishes to hitch his wagon to this star. And for its citizens who have the talent and capability and are willing to work hard, no dream is too big. Obama's definitive victory is yet another proof of this promise of the promised land.
Only in America...
Dreaming in red, white and blue,
Every dream is big as we want it to
We all get a chance
Everybody gets to dance
This truth was hammered home hard last night when Barrack Obama, son of an African father and a white American mother, swept the polls to become the 44th President-elect of the United States of America--and the first one who is not White (i.e.Caucasian) by race.With a first name that is distinctly black, a Muslim middle name (Hussein) and a last name that could be easily confused with that of America's enemy no. 1, few were willing to wager on him in the early stages of the presidential race.
Even when he was contesting the Democratic nomination against Hillary Clinton, most analysts predicted that America was not yet ready for "the change", i.e. a mixed-race president. When Hillary lost the nomination to Obama, their voices became louder as they hinted that if the US of A did not want a white woman in the White House, a black man hardly stood a chance.
In retrospect, Democrat americans were probably indicating that just being a Senator, or the famous wife of a popular but philandering former president was not enough to run for the top job.
As the presidential race gathered steam, Obama surprised everyone with his calm and confident demeanour, his grasp of foreign policy and economic issues and his plans to fix them. And he did this while debating his Republican opponent, the vastly experienced Senator John McCain, a Vietnam war hero and a veteran of Washington politics.
Obama started his campaign with the slogans of 'Change' and 'Hope', terms that resonated well with most Americans--especially the younger ones--and a lot of people around the world. After eight years of Republican rule, a war-weary US, facing unprecedented economic crises and teetering on the brink of recession, decided last night to give Obama the chance to lead the country out of its problems, never mind the colour of his skin.
Anyone who has been to US for a visit (or has lived there) knows how awesome a country built by a bunch of immigrants to begin with can be. It is also probably that way because it was indeed built by waves of people dissatisfied with the societies they lived in and wanted to build a country that was close to what an ideal nation would be like.
Despite its failings, especially on the foreign affairs front, US has become the land which leads the world with opportunities it provides to anyone who wishes to hitch his wagon to this star. And for its citizens who have the talent and capability and are willing to work hard, no dream is too big. Obama's definitive victory is yet another proof of this promise of the promised land.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Flaw and disorder
A 22-year-old college student was shot dead by the Haryana Police when he was returning from a party in the wee hours on Monday (Oct 3). It was a case of 'mistaken identity' or 'accidental firing' depending on whether you believe the first version of the cops' story or the second.
According to the second version, provided by the Hisar SP, a constable's gun went off accidentally while the police team were chasing the youth and his friend who were on a motorbike. This happened "because of the bad condition of the road", i.e. potholes.
He probably forgot that the guns have a safety catch that needs to be released and the firearm needs to be cocked before a bullet can be shot out "accidentally". He also glossed over the fact that the police were in a van and unless the gun was hanging outside the van, it would have definitely broken the windshield. Also, it would be a case of unmatched coincidence that the bullet hit Kuldeep, the deceased, in the head. As usual, a magisterial inquiry has been ordered to resolve the mystery.
On Tuesday, a Uninon minister from Bihar was charged with slapping an employee of Kingfisher Airlines at the Patna airport. The employee allegedly refused to allow the late-running mantriji to board a flight after it was closed. "It's a frame up against me," the minister said in a statement later.
On the same day, Rohit Monserrate, son of the education minister of Goa, surrendered to the police after a long time hiding. He is accused of raping a minor German tourist. "My son has told me he is innocent. This is a frame up engineered by my political enemies to pin me down," said his doting dad.
Just last week, the West Bengal CM, his industries minister and Union minister Ram Vilas Paswan were almost blown up by a Naxalite landmine.
While police from various states were gloating over their "cracking" of bomb blast incidents, another string of bombs went off in Assam recently, killing over 60 people.
As these events were happening, judges at all the courts in India were lumbering back to their chairs and benches after a two-week Diwali "vacation", while more than a million undertrials spent the fortnight locked up in jail cells.
If there is a law and order infrastructure in this country, it is barely perceptible.
On the one hand is a veritably venal and highly politicised police machinery. The police are largely corrupt, underpaid (not necessarily related to the former), understaffed, overworked and utterly undertrained in modern policing methods. They do not understand technology, are only officially educated and have scant regard for human rights.
On the other side is a ruefully ramshackle judiciary. Trials take years, sometimes decades, to be decided upon, adding to the insurmountable backlog of pending cases. In some cases, the undertrials have already served the maximum sentence possible, if the decision were to go against them. Yet, they remain incarcerated. Justice is largely denied, especially to the largely ignorant, illiterate and poor defendants.
If these were not enough, these two arms of the law and order infrastructure remain handcuffed by pernicious politicians who have mastered the art of manipulating them to their advantage.
It is amazing, then, that most Indians wake up every morning and go about their business as if they are part of a well-protected, fair and just society. For us, it is really a case of "ignoring is bliss".
According to the second version, provided by the Hisar SP, a constable's gun went off accidentally while the police team were chasing the youth and his friend who were on a motorbike. This happened "because of the bad condition of the road", i.e. potholes.
He probably forgot that the guns have a safety catch that needs to be released and the firearm needs to be cocked before a bullet can be shot out "accidentally". He also glossed over the fact that the police were in a van and unless the gun was hanging outside the van, it would have definitely broken the windshield. Also, it would be a case of unmatched coincidence that the bullet hit Kuldeep, the deceased, in the head. As usual, a magisterial inquiry has been ordered to resolve the mystery.
On Tuesday, a Uninon minister from Bihar was charged with slapping an employee of Kingfisher Airlines at the Patna airport. The employee allegedly refused to allow the late-running mantriji to board a flight after it was closed. "It's a frame up against me," the minister said in a statement later.
On the same day, Rohit Monserrate, son of the education minister of Goa, surrendered to the police after a long time hiding. He is accused of raping a minor German tourist. "My son has told me he is innocent. This is a frame up engineered by my political enemies to pin me down," said his doting dad.
Just last week, the West Bengal CM, his industries minister and Union minister Ram Vilas Paswan were almost blown up by a Naxalite landmine.
While police from various states were gloating over their "cracking" of bomb blast incidents, another string of bombs went off in Assam recently, killing over 60 people.
As these events were happening, judges at all the courts in India were lumbering back to their chairs and benches after a two-week Diwali "vacation", while more than a million undertrials spent the fortnight locked up in jail cells.
If there is a law and order infrastructure in this country, it is barely perceptible.
On the one hand is a veritably venal and highly politicised police machinery. The police are largely corrupt, underpaid (not necessarily related to the former), understaffed, overworked and utterly undertrained in modern policing methods. They do not understand technology, are only officially educated and have scant regard for human rights.
On the other side is a ruefully ramshackle judiciary. Trials take years, sometimes decades, to be decided upon, adding to the insurmountable backlog of pending cases. In some cases, the undertrials have already served the maximum sentence possible, if the decision were to go against them. Yet, they remain incarcerated. Justice is largely denied, especially to the largely ignorant, illiterate and poor defendants.
If these were not enough, these two arms of the law and order infrastructure remain handcuffed by pernicious politicians who have mastered the art of manipulating them to their advantage.
It is amazing, then, that most Indians wake up every morning and go about their business as if they are part of a well-protected, fair and just society. For us, it is really a case of "ignoring is bliss".
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