Dev Anand and the untold story of his misplaced picture!

Raju Korti
There are stars, there are legends. And then there is Dev Anand. Even in a city overpopulated with charm and charisma, Dev Anand stood apart. You couldn’t quite put a finger on what made him the cynosure of all eyes, but when he entered a room, the atmosphere changed perceptibly. The air thickened with awe and admiration. My most unforgettable experience of this phenomenon was in 1982 during the premiere of Swami Dada. The cast included rising stars like Mithun Chakraborty, Jackie Shroff, Padmini Kolhapure, and Rati Agnihotri. Yet they stood almost forgotten in a quiet corner, swallowed by the magnetic presence of (then) 59-year-old Dev Anand. Angular swagger intact, toothy smile firmly in place, his screen persona had simply spilled into real life. You saw the flesh-and-blood silhouette of a man who had eluded the clutches of age and irrelevance.

Over the years, I met him several times. At events in 2003 and 2007, and many more informally at Navketan Studios over his favourite snack sukhi bhelpuri. I normally steered clear of glittery events, wary of filmy noise and flashbulbs. But with Dev Anand around, all scepticism dissolved. I saw something remarkable: even when surrounded by stars like Hema Malini, Salman Khan, Girish Karnad or Boman Irani, the gravitational pull was always towards him. It wasn’t about seniority or legacy. It was something deeper, subtler. An aura that made even the accomplished appear as part of the crowd. As Asha Parekh once narrated to me, during the shooting of Jab Pyar Kisise Hota Hai, fans swarmed the sets only for Dev Anand. And after hours of shooting, he would patiently sign autographs, never once losing his temper or his radiant energy.

However, as claimed by producer-director Raj Khosla in his autobiography, that same overpowering charisma didn’t always sit well with co-stars. During the shooting of Bombai Ka Babu, Suchitra Sen, already a reigning superstar in Bengal, would sit sulking when crowds in Kullu gravitated entirely towards Dev Anand. She wasn’t used to playing second fiddle in public affection. Things came to a head when a wrap-up party celebrating Dev Anand’s shoot disturbed her and her husband’s rest. The resulting friction nearly derailed the schedule, until she returned to the set with a pointed quip, “You think she (the body double) can act better than me?”

There was also the warmth. Dev Anand never played the aloof matinee idol. He remembered names. He connected. Picked calls himself, never left it to his secretary. He exuded the kind of friendliness that made each person feel uniquely seen. He had no need to attract attention. It came to him effortlessly, like iron filings to a magnet. He didn’t have to retreat behind walls; he remained accessible, almost humbly so.

Many people realised pretty late that Dev Anand could be easily approached. In person, even over a call. That human accessibility, combined with his surreal stardom, was the enigma. His charm wasn’t just in the way he looked, but in the way he spoke. Distinct, stylised, with that peculiar cadence of words that drew you into his world. Everyone who met him felt as though they had glimpsed something intimate, something enduring. And perhaps, that only they had been privileged to be its privy.

Through it all, he remained ever-youthful. Dev Anand refused to be defined by time. He once told me, half-jokingly, that he was life itself. And in some way, I believed him. He would smile at me and say, “Ah, Raju Guide!”, a nod to Guide, his masterpiece. There couldn’t have been a more perfect metaphor for PR and communication. He was his own brand, his own campaign, his own message. No birthday tribute or memorial event can truly capture Dev Anand’s essence. Because legends like him don’t die. They simply move offscreen, letting the reels of memory play on.

Epilogue
There is an interesting piece of history behind the picture that I actually wanted to use with this blog. I thought it deserves a honourable mention, at least as a sidelight. My father had bought an Agfa-Gevaert camera from Rangoon way back in 1950 which lay unused for years in his almirah. I was (and am) no photographer, nor had the instincts for it. Yet, on an impulse, I decided to check out if the camera worked; and took it along for this event. Our official photographer (the late) Ashok Sawane looked at it curiously, chewed his pan, spat viciously before saying, “chal jayega shayad” (it might just work). It did and I clicked a picture with Dev Anand standing and making a point. DA autographed the back side of the printed invitation for the event; which I got affixed below the picture. Yesterday, I spent hours searching for the picture which now seems misplaced from my burgeoning memorabilia. Discarding all other picture of him with me, I finally decided to make do with this picture which Ashok had clicked; for sheer topicality!
Photo photo pe likha hota hai kheechne waale ka naam!

My encounter with Henry Blofeld: A voice, a presence, a memory

Raju Korti
My first encounter with Henry Blofeld came during the Reliance World Cup of 1987. And it left me, well, a little startled. On hindsight, it reminds me of that theme from Satyam Shivam Sundaram, where a voice beguiles you into imagining a visage that doesn’t quite match reality. Having heard Blofeld's voice, rich, full-bodied, and impossibly British, I had expected a tall, dapper man, the kind who might have walked off the lawns of Lord’s in a cravat. What I got instead was a balding, slightly portly gentleman whose wavy locks fluttered in the breeze. But what a voice! It shook your hand long before he did. “Hello Raju,” he said as I introduced myself, his tone a perfect mix of polish and warmth -- practiced, perhaps, but never impersonal.

Unlike Trevor Bailey’s more studied detachment or Peter Roebuck’s analytical flair, Blofeld was instinctively affable. We spoke on and off around the match, and he seemed genuinely pleased, even mildly amused, that BBC’s Test Match Special had a loyal Indian following. I remember asking if it was an unwritten rule that TMS commentators had to christen each other with nicknames. Boiley for Bailey, Johnners for Brian Johnston. Blofeld burst out laughing. “I know what you're hinting at,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Johnners called me ‘Blowers’ and there was no escaping it.” His delight in recounting that was almost childlike, and I understood in that moment what made him so beloved.

Blofeld’s cricket commentary was a tapestry. Not just of overs and wickets, but of pigeons on the outfield, construction cranes on the skyline, a lady in a pink sari in the upper tier, or an airplane buzzing overhead. Purists often scoffed at these ‘digressions,’ but to me, they were the seasoning in the cricketing stew. I told him that, and he seemed pleased. That voice, seasoned by years of TMS duty since the 1970s, had a cadence that could make even a dull draw feel like a Shakespearean drama. I still remember, vividly, when Srikkanth flicked Danny Morrison to fine leg and Blofeld turned to me and exclaimed, “That was a marvellous shot!” I didn’t care about the analysis that followed. I just wanted that voice to linger in my ears a little longer.

There were others I wished I had spoken to. Christopher Martin-Jenkins for one, though I treasure the copy of his autobiography CMJ – A Cricketing Life, gifted to me by my friend Dr Rashmin Tamhane. Alan Wilkins, to my good fortune, did not escape. We had a lovely chat and he even signed his book Easier Said Than Done. But with Blowers, it was different. It was less about the man and more about the aura, the theatricality, the self-effacing humour, the occasional bumbling charm. He once famously went on talking after the commentary had gone off-air, unaware, while Johnston couldn’t stop laughing. And then there was that ever-cherished catchphrase: “Oh my dear old thing”. It had a way of wrapping around you like a warm scarf on a chilly London evening.

Blofeld has since stepped out of the commentary box, his farewell marked by a thunderous ovation during an England–West Indies match. I am sure he met it with that same whimsical sign-off: “Oh my dear old thing…” Yes, I never did get my hands on his memoirs Squeezing the Orange or Over and Out, but I suspect I don’t need them. Because for me, the memory of that singular voice, and that unexpectedly delightful man behind it, remains far more eloquent than any book could be.

We talk the weather but forget the climate!

Raju Korti
Climate change is perhaps the least of human concerns for many, overshadowed by immediate crises like economic instability, political turmoil, and public health challenges. Yet, as the deadline for updated climate action plans draws near, the urgency of the environmental crisis becomes impossible to ignore. The upcoming UN Climate Summit in New York, with over 100 countries, including 40 heads of state, set to attend, will focus on turning the promises made under the Paris Agreement into tangible actions. This summit is a crucial moment for nations to demonstrate whether their climate goals are more than just political rhetoric and whether they can shift from abstract pledges to real, impactful measures for the planet's future.

From green to charcoal black!

However, the road ahead is fraught with challenges. I understand that as of mid-September, only 36 countries have officially submitted their updated nationally determined contributions (NDCs), falling far short of expectations. The Paris Agreement, signed by 196 nations in 2015, set the ambitious goal of limiting global temperature rise to 1.5 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels. This agreement did provide a roadmap for global climate action, but then, its success would depend on nations' ability to not only set targets but also execute them. The extension of the deadline for submitting NDCs until the end of September has offered more time, but the window for meaningful action is closing rapidly.

One of the most significant areas of concern is the implementation gap. The world has witnessed some progress. India, for instance, exceeded its initial target of sourcing 50 percent of its installed power capacity from non-fossil fuel sources. Yet, despite such victories, experts warn that current efforts are insufficient to meet the 1.5-degree target. The climate crisis is worsening, and if we remain on our current trajectory, the world is heading toward a 3-degree rise in temperature by the end of the century. As I had borne in one of my blogs months ago, this trajectory could lead to widespread climate disruptions, from intensified heatwaves to devastating floods and droughts, threatening ecosystems, economies, and livelihoods.

The role of India in this context is critical. As one of the world's fastest-growing economies and a major emitter, India's actions will have a significant impact on the global climate trajectory. While it has made strides in clean energy and emissions reductions, much remains to be done. The country’s leadership, alongside other major emitters like China and the European Union, will be key to bridging the ambition-implementation gap. The upcoming UN Climate Summit is expected to showcase the plans of these nations, and the world will be watching closely. Will they step up with the bold, transformative actions required, or will the rhetoric fall short once again?

Looking ahead, the future remains uncertain. The commitments made at COP28, such as tripling renewable energy capacity, halting deforestation, and doubling energy efficiency, are ambitious, but they require not only political will but also substantial investment in green technologies and infrastructure. The next decade will be a test of multilateral cooperation and the ability of nations to make hard choices in the face of a rapidly warming planet. The success of the Paris Agreement hinges on the strength of these upcoming commitments and their translation into concrete policies.

At this critical juncture, the question is no longer whether the world can afford to act; it is whether we can afford not to. The stakes have never been higher. The window for meaningful climate action is narrowing, and the decisions made in the coming months will determine the future of the planet. Whether those decisions lead to a sustainable, resilient world or a future defined by environmental collapse remains to be seen.

Immortality’s illusion: When longer life may not mean living!

Raju Korti
Almost every day, I read with morbid curiosity (!) the internet awash with dazzling headlines about scientists creating artificial hearts that could beat forever, stem cell therapies promising to wipe out diabetes, and organs that might one day resist all forms of damage. Read together, these advances carry an intoxicating suggestion: that humanity is inching towards immortality. But if you pause and think, the prospect is as troubling as it is exciting.

It is fine to wish that someone lives 100 years (literally) or 1000 years (figuratively). But I seriously wonder if anyone would really want to live beyond 150 years, walking on an earth that continues to age, fracture, and recycle its sorrows, while you remain unnaturally preserved. The body may not crumble, but the world around you surely will. Political strife, climate scars, and unchanging human mindsets would still persist. In fact, the longer you live, the more weather-beaten and time-scarred you might feel. Longevity could deepen disillusionment rather than erase it.

(Pic representational)

Human immortality still belongs more to theory than reality. Yet advances in biotechnology and nanotechnology suggest lifespans could increase dramatically. Some scientists insist there is a natural ceiling to human life. Others believe that merging artificial intelligence with biology could help us defeat aging itself. In truth, much of the current focus is less on endless life and more on extending health, repairing the body, and delaying decline.

I recently stumbled upon research that seeks to remind us that biology has its own ceiling. Even with perfect health, resilience steadily erodes. Young bodies bounce back completely from illness or injury. Older bodies only reclaim part of their former vitality, and this erosion continues until a tipping point is reached. Studies suggest that the upper limit of recovery lies somewhere between 120 and 150 years. That figure is not merely a statistical curiosity. It is a reminder that the end of life is coded into our very biology.

And yet, even if science breaks this ceiling, can it solve the crises of meaning that come with existence itself? Existential angst may only sharpen in a world where you cannot escape time’s sameness. Would endless days make us more purposeful, or merely more restless? It is worth recalling the timeless dialogue from the film Anand: “Babumoshai, life should be big, not long.” The wisdom lies not in stretching years but in deepening experience.

There is also a beauty in life’s ironies, in its oscillation between joy and grief. As one song reminds us:
न मिलता ग़म तो बर्बादी के अफ़्साने कहाँ जाते
अगर दुनिया चमन होती तो वीराने कहाँ जाते
चलो अच्छा हुआ अपनों में कोई ग़ैर तो निकला
अगर होते सभी अपने तो बेगाने कहाँ जाते.
(If sorrow did not exist, the tales of ruin would not be told.
If the world were only a garden, where would the deserts go?
It is perhaps good that among loved ones a stranger appears,
If everyone were one’s own, where would the outsiders go?).
Another lyric lingers in memory:
ज़िन्दा रहने के मौसम बहुत हैं मगर
जान देने की रुत रोज़ आती नहीं
(There are many seasons for staying alive,
But the season for surrender does not come every day.)

Immortality, stripped of these contrasts, risks becoming unbearably monotonous. For without endings, beginnings lose their magic. Without fragility, strength has no meaning. Without death, life loses its urgency.

In chasing immortality, humanity may achieve a technical triumph but suffers a philosophical defeat. For it is not the length of our years that matters but the depth with which we inhabit them. Perhaps true immortality lies not in endless time, but in living moments so intensely that they defy time altogether.

India's task cut out: Balancing power, trade and uncertainty!

Raju Korti
There are times in international relations when strategy ceases to be a matter of choice and becomes a matter of necessity. The current phase is one such moment for India. I watch closely as New Delhi attempts to manage a delicate balance in a world unsettled by post Trump tariffs and the subsequent reconfiguration of economic ties. For India, the question is not whether to take sides but how to secure its own space in a global order where alignments can change overnight.

The first challenge arises from its proximity to China, both geographically and now economically, as tariffs push old allies to rethink their equations. India has shown a pragmatic willingness to engage with China even while recognising the deep mistrust that underlies the relationship. This pragmatism is not born out of affection but out of expediency, for it is evident that isolating China is neither possible nor desirable in the present context. The paradox is that even as India cooperates with Beijing on certain economic fronts, it must remain alert to the strategic risks posed by the same neighbour.

Equally complex is the question of energy security. India’s purchase of Russian oil at discounted rates is one such calculated risk. It gives the country breathing space against rising global energy prices but it also places it in the line of fire of Western criticism. I perceive that national interests cannot be dictated by other powers, and this seems to sum up New Delhi’s stance today. Energy independence and price stability are more than economic calculations. They are survival strategies.

The unpredictability of Donald Trump adds another layer of uncertainty. His tariffs have unsettled global trade flows and his mercurial style leaves little room for confident predictions. One day he could be pressing harder on India, and another day he could be wooing it back with softened terms. India knows this and therefore refuses to build strategy around assumptions of permanence. It is choosing instead to offset steep tariffs by diversifying markets, expanding manufacturing capacities and striking new trade partnerships. This is a demonstration that resilience can be cultivated even when the global economic environment is hostile.

The effect of these manoeuvres extends beyond the major powers. The European Union finds itself squeezed between American protectionism and Asian assertiveness, forced to recalibrate its own trade strategy. Pakistan, always keen to fish in troubled waters, sees opportunities in the shifting alignments but remains too constrained economically and diplomatically to play more than a fringe role. Other smaller economies will also feel the ripple effects of tariff wars and shifting oil flows, but their strategies will depend largely on how the bigger players act.

Will this situation last for long? History shows that economic wars are rarely sustainable in the long run. It is possible that Trump, in his own unpredictable way, may eventually come to terms with the fact that softening his stand can win more than confrontation. Whether or not he does, India’s present course suggests it will not wait passively for a change of heart in Washington. It is steadily equipping itself to bear the weight of global uncertainty by ensuring that its vulnerabilities are reduced and its strategic options remain open.

The future scenario is therefore likely to be one of continued balancing. India will neither fully align with one bloc nor isolate itself. It will engage with China where required, secure its energy through Russian supplies, keep its dialogue with the United States alive and seek new markets elsewhere. This will not be an easy journey. It will demand nimbleness, foresight and above all the ability to live with contradictions. Yet if India manages this balancing act with clarity, it could emerge not just as a survivor but as a shaper of the global order in the years ahead.

Axis, angles and shifting sands; global ties on a rollercoaster!

Raju Korti
I wake up each day to a map that has shifted overnight. The English weather looks steady by comparison. Alliances bend. Old enmities soften for a moment and then harden again. The last year has been a masterclass in churn. The result is a global order that is more fluid and more brittle at the same time.

Start with Washington. Donald Trump is back in the White House. That one fact alone resets many dials at once. His second term has already brought sharp rhetoric at home and a punchy posture abroad. He has weighed in on China and Russia with the usual mix of praise, warning and provocation. Only yesterday he said he was disappointed with Vladimir Putin even as he played down the China Russia embrace. The signal is mixed by design. It keeps friends guessing and rivals off balance.

Moscow is still at war. Ukraine bleeds. The front ebbs and flows. Drones, missiles and artillery define the rhythm of days. Russia probes for advantage while Kyiv absorbs pressure and strikes back. Today’s battlefield reads like yesterday’s and yet the numbers keep climbing. Independent trackers and daily situation reports show a grind with occasional bursts of movement and a steady rain of long-range hits. That grind shapes energy flows, defence budgets and public patience far from the trenches.

Now layer in Beijing. China hosts pageantry and partners. It courts Moscow on energy and technology while managing an economy weighed down by property woes.

Evergrande’s long unwind tells its own story. Creditors wait. Confidence wobbles. The state smooths edges but does not erase losses. Markets read that as caution from the top and fragility below. The geopolitical message is simple. China projects calm power even as it paddles hard under the water. Then the triangle of Washington, Moscow and Beijing meets the arc from New Delhi to Islamabad. India plays long game realpolitik. It deepens technology and defence ties with the United States. It keeps its energy lifeline with Russia alive on price and volume. It competes and cooperates with China depending on the file. That balancing act has grown harder in recent weeks. Think sanctions overhangs. Think trade frictions. Think a sharper American tone when India hunts for cheap barrels. The logic in Delhi is clear. Strategic autonomy is not a slogan. It is a daily spreadsheet.

Pakistan tries to steady itself under Shehbaz Sharif. The coalition is broad. The economy is tight. Security threats chew bandwidth. Islamabad looks to Beijing for projects and to Washington for trade relief where it can get it. Every move is constrained by politics at home and debt math on the table. The room for manoeuvre is narrow but not closed. Across the wider chessboard, clubs and coalitions keep morphing. NATO grew when Sweden joined in March 2024. That was a clear line drawn after Russia’s invasion. On the other side, BRICS added new members and even new partners. Indonesia’s entry this year, after last year’s wave from West Asia and Africa, gave fresh weight to talk of a multipolar world. Labels aside, the hard test is delivery. Can alternative blocks clear payments, insure cargoes and settle disputes at speed. That is where theory meets practice.

Leaders add their own theatre. Trump and Putin have traded compliments and criticism in equal measure. The tone changes by the week and sometimes by the hour. Trump salutes Xi one day and needles him the next. Media and experts feast on each swing. Op-eds frame it as strategy. Others call it improvisation. Think tanks urge pressure on Moscow. They also warn against treating every rival camp as a single monolith. I read them all and then return to the scoreboard of actions and outcomes.

What does all this churn mean in practice. Three things stand out.

First, deterrence now travels with discounts. Energy, chips and critical minerals sit at the heart of diplomacy. Russia offers deeper crude discounts to keep India in the buyer’s queue as sanctions bite. China courts commodity security and export control relief through side deals and summit optics. The price at which a barrel moves says as much about the war as any communiqué.

Second, alignments are broad but not deep. The China Russia North Korea embrace has grown tighter on paper with new treaties and talk of mutual help. Yet even there, caveats abound. Analysts note the limits of trust and capacity. Reports point to North Korean personnel heading to Russia in support roles, not front-line combat, which is telling. It shows Moscow needs manpower elasticity, while Pyongyang seeks relevance and aid. It is alignment by necessity, not destiny.

Third, middle powers act like system managers. India hedges across capitals. The Gulf states arbitrage energy and logistics. Turkey brokers talks when it suits. Southeast Asia adds BRICS heft while keeping the United States close. This is not fence sitting. It is risk management in a world of sudden gusts.Experts and media have had a field day. Some frame the moment as the rise of a new axis. Others insist it is a messy marketplace of deals. Brookings calls this a challenging moment for India United States ties with many frictions breaking at once. Atlantic Council voices push the White House to bear down harder on Putin. The split in prescriptions is the point. It reflects a global order with too many moving parts for one neat narrative.

Where do I land. I see a world that rewards speed and punishes rigidity. Trump’s Washington runs hot and cold by design. Putin’s Moscow seeks relief and time. Xi’s Beijing wants stability at home and leverage abroad. Modi’s New Delhi wants freedom of choice at scale. Ukraine fights for survival and sovereignty. Pakistan searches for oxygen. Markets mark every tremor in oil, freight and metals. Culture and society absorb the shocks through inflation, migration and a new edge in public discourse.

Now you know why I have kept my short. Almost like in a school-boyish essay. The map will move again tomorrow. Maybe by this evening. My only safe bet is that the political mercury will keep misbehaving. And that we will all keep learning to read it faster.

Playing ball at SCO: India, China and Russia!

Raju Korti
By all available indications, a new power axis is quietly taking shape in the East. The just concluded SCO Summit in Tianjin suggested as much, as India, China and Russia appeared to move in closer concert at a time when the United States finds its own tariff regime questioned in its courts and its global influence increasingly challenged. What emerged was not routine diplomacy but the outline of a counterweight to Western dominance, with images of bonhomie among Xi Jinping, Narendra Modi and Vladimir Putin carrying echoes of a world order in transition.

Modi, Putin & Xi

As images of Xi Jinping, Narendra Modi and Vladimir Putin exchanging warmth and laughter made global headlines, what resonated louder was the symbolism. The three leaders, representing vast civilisational legacies and commanding significant economic and military weight, looked less like rivals jostling for space and more like a compact capable of shaping an alternative order. The parallel with the BRICS moment of 2018 was hard to miss, only this time the undertone was far stronger.

Xi Jinping in his address targeted what he called bullying behaviour in the world order, a clear reference to Washington. He called for fairness, justice and an end to Cold War mentalities. By unveiling ambitions for a new security architecture, Xi positioned the SCO not merely as a regional bloc but as a counterweight to Western frameworks like NATO. Putin, whose ties with both Beijing and New Delhi remain critical, lent gravitas to the proceedings. And Modi, by his measured articulation of trust, dignity and sensitivity in relations with both Russia and China, ensured India did not appear a reluctant participant but an equal partner in this evolving geometry.

India’s presence at the SCO was not without context. Its ties with the United States have entered turbulent waters after Washington imposed steep tariffs on Indian exports and targeted its oil trade with Russia. Trump’s repeated attempts at taking credit for brokering India Pakistan peace only aggravated New Delhi’s perception of American condescension. When Washington demanded alignment with its energy policies, India chose instead to stand its ground. It is in this backdrop that the optics of Modi walking shoulder to shoulder with Putin and Xi acquired deeper significance.

For India, the SCO summit was also an opportunity to recalibrate ties with China after the bitterness of Galwan. Modi’s first visit to China in seven years saw a significant bilateral with Xi, where both leaders spoke of moving ahead on the basis of mutual trust and respect. This was not an easy conversation, but it showed intent to move beyond confrontation. The irony is not lost that while Washington’s pressures have pushed India closer to Moscow and Beijing, India has simultaneously retained its sovereign agency by not conceding to either side.

The SCO itself is not a perfect bloc. It carries the burden of internal contradictions, not least the presence of Pakistan, which in 2020 had provoked India by displaying an offensive map during a virtual meeting. That led to Ajit Doval’s walkout, a reminder that India is prepared to draw red lines even within multilateral frameworks. Pakistan again found itself marginalised in Tianjin, with its Prime Minister left on the fringes while the real centre of gravity rested with Modi, Xi and Putin.

Beyond theatrics, the summit revealed three layers of importance. One, the consolidation of an Eastern narrative challenging the West’s monopoly over security and trade frameworks. Two, the emergence of SCO as a parallel platform to BRICS in articulating the concerns of a multipolar world. And three, the subtle but unmistakable hint that India is no longer willing to play second fiddle to any bloc, East or West.

As I see it, India did its part well at Tianjin. It held its own in the presence of two giants, strengthened old bonds with Russia, reopened doors with China, and projected itself as a sovereign actor unwilling to be bullied into choices. The SCO Summit may not have redrawn the world map overnight, but it set into motion a conversation about power, parity and partnership. And that conversation is only just beginning.