Trying This Post from Our Kindle

Ever since we bought our Kindle Paperwhite we have been experimenting new things on it: how to hilight a portion of text and have it sent to FB and Twitter, how to read email and browse,and more importantly how to download books and articles. So, kind readers, this-blog-is-cool fans wenare trying out our first post on the Kindle. Hurrray!

Finished Another Landmark - Copy Editing the Novel

Another landmark! No, nothing to do with Landmark, the bookstore, of which we are a regular visitor and fan, though we have seen the area for books shrinking, of late. Last time we were there we bought an expensive leather shoebox which we intend to use as our toiletry box. An expensive toiletry box from a book store? Dumb us! Why are we a bibliophile and not a clothesphile, or, toiletryphile, for starters?

We finished another painful editing process on the novel Mr. Bandookwala, M.B.A., Harvard. This time it was copy editing, removing silly spelling mistakes, respecting word territory (we make this mistake too often, i.e., using same words repeatedly in close proximity), removing needless footnotes (there were too many, in the final copy we intend to eliminate all footnotes), deleting self-indulgent passages (of this there were too many), eliminating literary flourishes (Ahem!).

All this because, in the madly competitive world of today, where anyone owning a laptop is writing a novel (ya know, "am writing a novel" is the best pick-up line there is, beats "I have seen you somewhere"), publishers depend too much on literary agents to turn out publishable manuscripts. And, this is the sorry part, literary agents won't look at manuscripts that have simple flaws, no matter how good they are (they receive too many submissions that are utter tripe). We don't blame them, poor fellows, much harried as they are about copyrights, territories, and suchlike.

Now, boo hoo, we have to sit down and carry out all those corrections, 350 pages of them. Writing sucks. Why weren't we a painter, an architect, a musician?

Singing and Strumming at a Christmas Celebration!

The occasion was Kairali Belapur’s Christmas celebrations and friend Henry wanted me to sing a song. So I dug out an old Christmas song I had written and composed, changed a few lyrics, and sang. The change in lyrics was because when I actually stood and sang there appeared to be some tunelessness, some mis-match in the harmonies.

Singing and strumming... it isn't easy. My right hand is a blur!

Then there was the situation, the stage fright to be thought about. My son said, “Papa, don’t make an ass of yourself, one mistake and they will laugh at you for ages.” He is my biggest critic. Son, Papa can handle all that, I am, sort of, well, used to all that. Son didn’t come for the performance, so as not to be ridiculed by friends. Wifey was supportive. But then, can I do it? What will those Malayalis whom I meet everyday think? They don’t even know I write, write poetry, sing!

So I had a lot of butterflies in my stomach as I sat through the program. There was a lot of Karaoke singing, which is acceptable these days, I guess. Then my turn came and I went on stage, after some backstage shenanigans. One of the singers, a pretty young lady was so overcome she refused to sing despite a lot of coaxing by her mother. Then – for the first time in my life – I sang standing up strumming my guitar. Hitherto, I had only sat and played the guitar. Must say standing up, playing the instrument, and singing is tough. You have to concentrate on so many different things. But, I managed fine without nervousness, well, not much.

Midway through the performance I felt my strumming becoming unsteady. Haven’t I rehearsed this for three days? Panic. Overcome by singing the choral part twice, no, thrice. Then it was time to say “Thank you, God bless,” and go off stage. Wifey says applause was deafening. A woman sitting beside her wanted to know how I do it. As if wifey knows how I do it. Hehe. Takes hundreds of hours of practice, lady. I am self-taught, so, it’s all the more harder. All those lonely hours you would be watching television serials, I am strummin, and singin! Nothing in life is easy, really, nothing.

A Few Musings at the End of an Eventful 2013

A few thoughts at the end of an eventful 2013. We live in troubled times. Well, yes, that’s an obvious truth we need not emphasise. However, trouble is of the variety that never existed in our days, halcyon days in which we lived a deprived but enjoyable life nevertheless. Yet, we ignore certain realities, take risks, trust our intuition – which turns out to be wrong – and proceed gingerly. We forgive but we can’t forget. We hold hands and try to forget those piercing barbs aimed at us, we gamely accept kitsch such as reality shows and the petty tripe shown therein just to go with the flow. And, this worries us. Time heals but also leaves scars.

Many people left us for their heavenly abodes, among them our friends. Sarasa Gopal’s death shocked us, as did that of Varghese Mathew, a regular church-attendee and active member in all spiritual activities. You were never meant to die, people. You were supposed to live and share the milk of human kindness and joy with us. As the above, so did Mandela’s departure disturb us. We have an idea that may be a distortion of truth which goes: God calls all good people to him and leaves the trash – like us – to haunt the earth with our inanity (MS Word changed this to “insanity” and, shocked as I was, changed it back).

India’s biggest business brat (we call him immature little chap [ILC]) drunkenly crashed his car and hurts a few people. We say, no, it’s okay, brats are meant to crash cars. What else are they for? Already police may have been bought. We know. This brat’s mother – who is into serving the poor – doesn’t like to see peons (this is hearsay from someone who works in the office) around the office. So when she arrives peons are told to hide their poverty-stricken personage somewhere. All this they do because the brat’s grandfather worked hard and built an empire for his sons and grandchildren. We have ingrained in us this concept of dynasty, the bade log (big people) syndrome which makes things easy for the ILC to get away scot free. Is this a good thing? Why don’t we introspect on this?

We had the occasion of working with a few ILCs. Believe you me, they, with their immaturity can make your life hell. We had to correct their incompetence and also praise them for attributes they didn’t have. Another ILC is making it big in music, another ILC is making it in films, another ILC is making it in politics. And, ironically, we all are standing aside, giving way to these ILCs. Nay, we are even endorsing them and condoning their transgressions with the law.

One such ILC who is in prison now, should have been in an institution long ago for drug possession and terror-related activities. Another ILC is facing manslaughter charges for recklessly killing a few people with his SUV. We shut our eyes to all these, seemingly trivial atrocities, which really aren’t. Then can we blame them for turning into monster wife-beaters and social psychopaths? Can we invite them for a public function knowing their background? Can we wait in queue for a glimpse of them inside a theatre, hall, or, public place?

No, none of the above. But they are the pillars of society, turning up at social functions and invited to functions of Governors, Prime Ministers, and Presidents. So, hm, where are we going wrong? Can morality be judged by the tenets we clung to earlier? We don’t know.

We digress. On the culture-literature front we see nothing great happening. The Tata Litlive and Times Carnival went by without much ado. A trend started by Pablo Ganguli with his “Kitab” events has set off a chain of literary festivals throughout the country. Hats off to Pablo. Though he was ostracised because of allegations made by vested-interested people, he was the precursor and originator of the idea of literary festivals in India. We wonder why the same people who criticized Ganguly have their tongues firmly in mouth about the other festivals, where they may have been treated worse.

Our politics will see a cataclysmic something happening this year. The AAP’s success will change the equation quite a lot. Popular leaders have upset staid political set ups – such as Congress and BJP – before as well. This is the age of instant gratifications and in a fire if you shout “follow me I know a way out” people will follow you. Well, ahem, that’s what is happening to the world now.

There’s more to be said but do come again to read them. Meanwhile, saying goodbye with hope for the new year that’s at our door. Happy 2014!

Be in Peace, Sarasa Gopal, Our Friend

In school she showed glimmers of brilliance. When we would ask her to be on the Green House’s debating team (we were the captain) she would agree and come prepared. From then on she would call us “captain” and the name stuck. Years later when we met and decided that we school chums should meet she was the most enthusiastic of the lot. From then on we classmates of Adarsha Vidyalaya (Ganga, Ajit, Sanjeevan, Murli, Geeta, Sarsa, Chandra, Ravi, Anil, etc.) would meet every few months for a few friendly tipples and sharing of old jokes. Over the past four or five years we have become a tight-knit community inviting each other for children’s weddings, wishing each other on Onam, Christmas, Diwali.

Every meeting she would come armed with something to eat, cooked by her. She was working for a hearing-aid-manufacturing company and when the boss died he gave the business to her. But there were problems running the business and she gave it up and settled in Coimbatore with her husband Gopal. We, sort of, drifted apart as people living in different places in the sub-continent can only do, not out of will or volition, but from laziness. We thought of calling her many times, but something petty would intervene. Then from Coimbatore she sent us an email that stunned us. Both her kidneys had failed, she informed us, and she was undergoing dialysis.  

At Krishna's Wedding. Sarasa is second from left.

Then Ganga broke the news: Sarasa Gopal is no more. Few months ago when I met her at Ganga’s son Akash’s wedding she was her usual cheerful self, laughing and joking. After that came her son Krishna’s wedding and we saw her in her gayest mood. “Dhabake khana (eat well),” she told us. We couldn’t because we all looked at the sweetmeats spread before us wistfully and with regret.

All of us have our own problems and are wondering about our futures. The news is not good on the medical front. There is no cure for old age and the wearing of overworked organs. We have abused our bodies commuting and sitting in front of computers. Illness and its attendant problems can strike at any time. When it strikes there are a series of unbelievable discoveries you make about your body. The problem is, despite what they call the advancement of medical science, it remains a science of cutting and joining body parts and treating of the symptoms with antibiotics and pain killers. It disillusions you after some time. This is the plain naked truth from a sufferer himself. We can’t believe she has gone into the vast space yonder and left us all in pain. All we can do is try and be cheerful like Sarasa.

Rest in peace, Sarasa Gopal.

Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela R.I.P.

Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela is no more. He died on 5^th December, 2013, at the ripe old age of ninety-five. Another leader of world ranking, whom the world loved and admired is no more. Not merely a leader but a patron of sports, a statesman, and an individual who had achieved the aspirations of his people. The aspiration in this case was freedom from an oppressive rule by the formerly racist regime in South Africa (SA).

We saw an interview with the captain of the SA rugby team, a white man. He talks of how Mandela, also called Madiba – a Xhoso clan (his clan) name which mean “father” – was instrumental in promoting his sport and was also protective of the cultural diversity of the country.  Without him white South Africans could have been the target of rampaging mobs as seen in his neighbouring country Zimbabwe. He was a pacifist and one who believed in human values and therefore eschewed any feelings of revenge. It paid off well, too, because SA gained from this policy of tolerance and democracy. Our cricket team which is in SA should pay homage to this leader who displayed a more than normal interest in the game.

Altogether he spent 27 years in jail fighting for his cause. His cell wasn’t very luxurious and he slept on the floor (we saw this on the BBC), sometimes wracked with fever. The long incarceration must have taken a big toll on his health but he remained cheerful till the very end. Yet, he suffered all this because he knew his dream would one day come true. Under him the African National Congress (ANC) became a multi-ethnic and tolerant organization. He also built up an impeccable hierarchy of leaders who are leading the country now.

Admittedly, Madiba was the father figure whose word was still held in high esteem.  He could have remained President but preferred to pass the baton to younger men. After all, he didn’t believe – unlike Indian leaders – in dynastic rule. Now how the SA political narrative unfolds – in the post-Mandela scenario – no one knows. There is still poverty in the slums and ghettos and immense unrest. There is also violence. How the country will deal with these problems will unravel only in the coming months.

Meanwhile, here’s raising a hand to salute the father, the Madiba, who led a people to freedom from his jail cell.

Some Pictures of Times Literary Carnival

Hanif Quereshi, the man, the writer, the script writer, the cool unruffled one. "We artists belong to an ecosystem," something such.

Urvashi Butalia, Eve Ensler on the male sexual predator. I don't know the others.

A young admirer talks to the one being admired.

Some day!

Mikes on stage.

The historian Ramchandra Guha

Jeet Thayil interviews Hanif Quereshi. 

Some Pics of Tata Litlive

The stage at Experimental Theatre. Wonder why Times didn't cover Litlive at all. A case of not promoting a competitor?

Anuvab Pal, Amish Tripathi and Vikas Swarup in a discussion. Amish recounted how he wrote in the back of a car on the way to work and Vikas said he wrote his entire first novel when his wife was on a holiday to India.

The Amish Tripathi making a point, whatever it is.

Nik Gowing of the BBC on how the humble cell phone is making a difference in reporting. He recounted how a man inside an aircraft mentioned as he was broadcasting how he didn't like Nik's tie by Twitter. That shows how mobile technology is revolutionising reporting. Most of BBC's coverage of events in Syria were shots taken by amateurs on their mobile phones. 

Ashwin Sanghi, Peter James and Anish Trivedi (no, that was Amish Tripathi) in a discussion about the who-done-it. Peter James recounted how friendship with a few police officers gave him material for his novels. 

Why Tejpal Should Not Be Lynched by the Mob

We think it’s unfair. This mob-lynching should stop. (Disclosure: We don’t know Tejpal, never ever met him, and are no apologists for his crime.) Some of Tejpal’s good friends have turned lynchers. Yet, nobody is saying a reasonable word about him. True a man in his fifties can make an error of judgment, and get carried away. Heard of crimes of passion?

We live in very deceptive times, especially the generation that flowered in the age of flower-power and “make love not war” age. Then we talked of a just and equitable society where peace was the ultimate aim of mankind. May be, there was a lot of free sex then, and a lot of what is called intellectual fornication. (We never were part of any orgies!) The youngsters of today are very different.  They haven’t been through a war and have been brought up very protectively by their idealistic parents. They belong to an interconnected networked world where results are immediate and punishment for wrongdoing is given instantaneously. They believe that being young they have the power in their hands to change the world, and indeed they do. But do we really need this hastiness? There is a danger here of forming “lynch mobs” which is contrary to what a democratic environment entails. Are we proceeding towards a system of instantaneous punishment or are we keen on reinforcing our legislative-executive-judicial system?

If a person is suspect it’s the duty of the law machinery to apportion justice and not of a lynch mob. Politicising the matter, we feel, as has happened now, may be counterproductive. Where is the need for politics in a criminal-judicial system? The Nirbhaya case has opened a Pandora’a box of sexual indiscretions in India. We aren’t saying this is bad. It’s good that sexual crimes are being reported and offenders caught. But forming a lynch mob outside the accused’s home reeks to me of a lack of understanding of basic democratic principles.

Abuse of power by a person at the top is a common occurrence. Roosevelt is said to have had many mistresses and one of it was his secretary. If the secretary had gone to the police Roosevelt would have been prosecuted because American justice system is such. In India there are many such affairs happening and we aren’t even aware of them. If found out they are said to be platonic relationships, brother-sister relationships. Indian corporations are full of such stories of abuse of power for sex. However, they do not come out, they are well hidden, only known to a few.  Tejpal’s must have been one such. So let the law take its course now that it has been revealed.

As we said we aren’t votaries of the kind of work Tejpal did nor of the way he behaved. But now that it is in the realm of law why did a certain political party demonstrate outside an accused’s bungalow? Why is a chief minister giving undue attention to the case? This only reinforces our theory of the lynch mob. When a country is taken over by a mob then chaos prevails, law and order fails, and there’s absolute anarchy. That’s the time when a dictator finds it easy to take over.

We said it first. Watch our words, and this space.

First Diwali lights