Neutral cricket commentary is pretence, bias is a given!

Raju Korti
Irfan Pathan has reportedly been left out of the IPL 2025 commentary panel following complaints from several Indian cricketers who believe his criticism of them is steeped in personal bias. As a veteran journalist who’s tracked sports commentary from the restraint of print to the unfiltered din of modern TV, this twist doesn’t shock me but it does demand dissection. Pathan’s exclusion forces me to confront a tension I have long observed: sports commentators are expected to thread a needle between objectivity and passion, yet the louder the game gets, the harder that balance becomes. Is Pathan a scapegoat in a biased system, or did he cross a line?

Let’s start with the hook. The reports, trickling out as of March 22, 2025, claim that during India’s recent Border-Gavaskar Trophy tour, Pathan’s critiques rubbed players raw. Some felt his jabs weren’t just professional but personal; one even blocked his number, a juvenile flex that speaks volumes about egos in cricket’s elite circles. The IPL, with its glitz and franchise fervour, amplifies these stakes. Pathan, a former all-rounder turned pundit, won’t be mic’d up for 2025, and the whispers point to player pushback as the trigger. But why him, when bias is practically a job hazard in this gig?

Pic courtesy Linkedin.

Sports commentary has never been a monolith. Back when I cut my teeth in print, the unwritten rule was “no rooting in the press box.” Neutrality was king. Or at least, we pretended it was. Radio demanded imagination; TV, once distinct, now blurs that line with garrulous chatter. National broadcasters like ESPN or Star Sports expect their voices -- think Sunil Gavaskar or Ravi Shastri -- to stay measured, enthusing over big plays without picking sides. Team announcers, though, get a pass: local radio jocks can cheer “their” squad, subtly or not, because fans expect it. The IPL, a hybrid of national spectacle and franchise loyalty, muddies this further. Commentators from Akash Chopra to Matthew Hayden often tilt toward favourites. Sometimes it’s patriotism, sometimes it’s preference. Gavaskar’s India-first lens, Manjrekar’s blunt edges, even Vaughan’s digs at rivals -- all carry bias, subtle or loud. So why crucify Pathan alone?

The answer might lie in degree. There’s no official rulebook for “good” commentary, but I would argue it hinges on knowledge, vivid expression, and nuance -- an arresting narrative that keeps us hooked. Pathan, with his player’s eye, has that in spades. His YouTube show “Seedhi Baat” thrives on straight-talking insight. Yet, if the complaints hold water, his IPL critiques veered from analysis into vendetta. I have seen this shift before: print scribes once lobbied for “their” players; now TV pundits do it on air, often cloaked as expertise. The sickening sycophancy for icons like Dhoni or Kohli -- where flaws vanish and praise feels scripted -- shows how bias can distort. Pathan’s alleged sin wasn’t cheering too hard; it was letting personal gripes taint his takes. That’s a bridge too far, even in a game where “we” might slip out.

But let’s flip the coin. Bias isn’t just a commentator’s vice. It is the fuel of fandom. Rooting for sports is an exercise in partiality; we tune in to cheer with comrades, not dissect in a vacuum. Listeners crave that echo -- Pathan’s edge might’ve resonated with some, even if it alienated players. The pretence of objectivity can be worse: I have tracked commentators who play neutral on TV, then spew opposites in columns or press chats. Double standards -- regional, national, personal -- shine through if you follow them across forums. Pathan’s no stranger to this; his post-exclusion pivot to YouTube suggests he’s leaning into candour over polish. Maybe that’s smarter than feigning balance in a biased world.

Still, there’s a craft to this. High-octane games test even seasoned voices. Pathan’s not new to the mic, so toning down rhetoric should be in his wheelhouse. TV clashes today often pit pundits against each other’s vested interests, not just viewpoints. It’s less debate, more turf war. I have cringed at the noise -- less imaginative than radio’s golden age, more performative than insightful. Subjectivity’s fine if owned; Pathan could have framed his takes as opinion, not gospel. Instead, if he settled scores, he handed players a cudgel to swing.

Objectivity’s a staple in journalism, but sports commentary bends that rule. Unlike hard news, it’s less reporting, more engagement -- viewers want to be enamoured, not just informed. Ex-players like Pathan bring baggage: passion, rivalries, scars. That’s their strength, until it’s their flaw. I would argue there’s a line. Professionalism demands it. Enthusiasm for a play? Sure. Passive-aggressive snipes or unchecked bias? No. Pathan’s case tests where that line sits. If he blurred it too much, his IPL exit feels like consequence, not conspiracy.

So, IPL 2025 will roll on without him. Was he unfairly targeted? Perhaps! Cricket’s ecosystem thrives on bias, from fans to players to the dug-out. But if his critiques were personal, not principled, he gave detractors ammo. Subjectivity is inevitable; balance isn’t. As I mull this, I wonder who’ll replace him. And whether they will fare any better in this loud, partisan game. For now, Pathan’s out, and the mic’s up for grabs.

Mah-K'taka boundary dispute: Flogging a dead horse!

Raju Korti
The Maharashtra-Karnataka boundary dispute, centered on (now) Belagavi and its surrounding regions, is a textbook case of a dead horse flogged intermittently to stir public sentiment, with language as the perennial pivot. Rooted in the State Reorganisation Act of 1956, which redrew India’s map along linguistic lines, the conflict over Belagavi, Karwar, and Nipani has festered for nearly seven decades. Despite attempts at resolution, most notably the Mahajan Commission of 1966, the issue remains a political lightning rod, reignited periodically by symbolic gestures, violent flare-ups, and contradictory posturing, even when the same party has held power at the Centre and in Karnataka.

The latest spark came last month when pro-Kannada groups called a 12-hour bandh across Karnataka on a Saturday, protesting an alleged assault on a bus conductor in Belagavi for not speaking Marathi. Tight security shadowed the demonstrations as shops shuttered and streets filled with agitators demanding linguistic loyalty. Belagavi, a border city with a significant Marathi-speaking population, has long been the epicenter of this tug-of-war. Maharashtra claims it, along with 865 villages, based on its Marathi-speaking majority, while Karnataka staunchly defends its historical and administrative hold, refusing to cede an inch.

The dispute traces back to the linguistic reorganization of states post-Independence. Belagavi, once part of Bombay state, was incorporated into the erstwhile Mysore (now Karnataka) in 1956, following the Fazal Ali Commission’s recommendations. Maharashtra, formed in 1960, contested this, arguing that Marathi-dominated areas like Belagavi belonged with them. Karnataka counters that Belagavi’s Kannada roots, evident in its dynastic history and land records, precede the Maratha empire’s 18th-century expansion, which shifted demographics but not the region’s core identity. The Mahajan Commission, set up in 1966 by the Congress-led Centre, largely sided with Karnataka on Belagavi but suggested village swaps, a compromise Maharashtra rejected outright, calling it biased.

What’s striking is how this sore has festered even under unified political stewardship. The Congress party, which dominated both the Centre and Karnataka for decades post-Independence, failed to resolve the impasse. In 2005, with Congress at the helm nationally under Manmohan Singh and in Karnataka, efforts to broker talks between the states’ Chief Ministers collapsed. Karnataka pushed for the Mahajan report’s implementation, while Maharashtra dug in, filing a Supreme Court petition in 2006 claiming Belagavi and citing insecurity among Marathi speakers. Party lines blurred, yet contradictions abounded. Leaders from the same Congress stable issued conflicting statements -- one day advocating dialogue, the next stoking regional pride -- leaving the issue in limbo.

This pattern of political opportunism transcends parties. In 2022, BJP-ruled Maharashtra’s Eknath Shinde rolled out welfare schemes for Marathi speakers in Karnataka, prompting BJP-led Karnataka’s Basavaraj Bommai to counter with grants for Kannada schools in Maharashtra. Bommai even upped the ante, claiming 40 villages in Maharashtra’s Sangli district. The dispute unites parties within each state -- Shiv Sena and MES in Maharashtra, pro-Kannada outfits in Karnataka -- while language remains the emotional cudgel. Karnataka has doubled down, renaming Belgaum as Belagavi and building the Suvarna Vidhan Soudha there, signalling permanence.

Yet, the deadlock persists. Maharashtra leans on Article 131, asserting the Supreme Court’s jurisdiction, while Karnataka cites Article 3, arguing only Parliament can redraw borders. The case languishes in court, and neither plebiscite nor referendum seems viable given the entrenched stances. Violence, like the recent bus conductor assault, punctuates the stalemate, amplifying linguistic chauvinism.

The Maharashtra-Karnataka border row is less about geography than identity, a wound kept raw by political grandstanding. That it endured even under Congress’s long reign at both levels exposes a failure of intent, not just governance. Language, wielded as both shield and sword, ensures this horse, though dead, will be flogged again when the next election looms.

Some thoughts on Trump-US Judiciary clash

Raju Korti
As student of Law, the first thing I learnt was the Indian Constitution, synthesized from the finer points of the American and English Constitution, was flexible. That in US, the Judiciary was supreme and in UK, the Parliament was supreme. The Indian Constitution with its federal nature and grey areas leaves scope for clashes between Legislature, Executive and the Judiciary. But what is happening in the United States is the Trump administration is now taking the Judiciary head on. The roots have shaken, and how!

The ongoing confrontation between the Trump administration and the US Judiciary marks a significant challenge to the American constitutional framework, where the Judiciary has historically been a supreme arbiter of legal disputes. Unlike India’s flexible federal system, which balances power between the Judiciary, Executive, and Legislature while allowing for grey areas, the US system relies heavily on judicial supremacy to uphold checks and balances.

The Trump administration’s defiance -- seen in its refusal to comply with court orders on issues like deportations and federal funding -- threatens this equilibrium, risking a constitutional crisis. Given the course it is seen taking, if unresolved, this clash could weaken judicial authority, embolden executive overreach, and destabilize the separation of powers, potentially leading to a precedent where political will trumps legal restraint, a scenario India’s framers sought to avoid by blending flexibility with accountability. I have not seen the American intelligentsia and media responding with an appropriate analysis beyond reporting bare facts as they are happening. 

The flashpoint has been the contentious issue of Venezuelan deportations. President Trump has escalated tensions by calling for the impeachment of US District Judge James Boasberg, who issued an order halting deportation flights of alleged Venezuelan gang members under the Alien Enemies Act of 1798 --  a move Trump claims is essential to his immigration agenda. This provocative stance has drawn a rare and sharp rebuke from Chief Justice John Roberts, who declared that impeachment is “not an appropriate response” to judicial disagreement, emphasizing the judiciary’s role as an independent arbiter.

The clash underscores a broader struggle over authority, with the administration pushing the boundaries of executive power while the judiciary asserts its prerogative to check such actions, a dynamic rooted in the American Constitution’s clear separation of powers among the Executive, Judiciary, and Legislative branches.

This standoff highlights the constitutional framework designed to prevent any single branch from dominating the others. The Executive, led by the President, is tasked with enforcing laws, yet its actions, like the deportation orders. can be reviewed and restrained by the Judiciary, which interprets those laws. Meanwhile, the Legislative branch holds the sole power to impeach federal officials, including judges, but I believe such a process has been purposely rendered arduous to protect judicial independence.

Trump’s demand for Boasberg’s impeachment, echoed by some allies like Elon Musk, tests this balance, raising concerns about a potential constitutional crisis if the administration openly defies court orders. Chief Justice Roberts’ statement serves as a reminder that the appellate process, not political retaliation, is the proper mechanism for resolving disputes, reinforcing the Judiciary’s role as a co-equal branch rather than a subordinate to the Executive’s will.

The Venezuelan deportation saga thus becomes more than a policy disagreement. It is a stress test of America’s governing principles. As the Trump administration defends its actions by claiming compliance with voter mandates, the Judiciary stands firm on legal precedent, exemplified by Boasberg’s scrutiny of whether deportation flights violated his ruling. Roberts’ intervention signals a judiciary unwilling to yield to executive pressure, while Trump’s rhetoric suggests an administration ready to challenge judicial authority head-on. This tension, playing out against the backdrop of the Constitution’s delineation of powers, could set a precedent for how far each branch can push its limits before the system either bends or breaks.

Recalibrating on Earth: Sunita Williams & Yours Truly!

Raju Korti
With age catching up on me and life gravitating towards more and more philosophical, I have begun to believe that Philosophy isn't just about cosmic issues.  Every day is full of events that raise philosophical, and even existential, questions: Something even as mundane as why do we eat the things we eat, work the way we work, go to the places we go. This time round, my philosophical quest has aimed for something much higher.

Sunita Williams: A NASA website grab

I watched Sunita Williams’ space odyssey unfold -- nine months stranded among the stars, tethered to the International Space Station, her body suspended in a weightless void. It stirred something deep within me. Nine months. A span that human foetus gravitates the womb. For the 59-year-old gutsy Sunita, this was a gestation of endurance, not birth, a quiet drift through the cosmos.

True to my latest affliction that Science can be on one side and Philosophy on the other, I was stuck by what was said upon her return: That it would take weeks for her to recalibrate. As in her muscles groping for gravity’s pull, her senses relearning the Earth’s firm embrace, her blood settling after months of floating free. Weeks to reclaim what once came naturally. And as I followed her physical descent, I couldn’t help but turn inward: what does it mean for me to come back to myself, when I have been given not months, but a lifetime, and still feel adrift?I am no astronaut, but I feel the echo of that disorientation. I think of my own returns, not from orbit, but from lifetimes I can’t quite grasp. They say we take multiple births, souls spiralling through existence, each one a chance to recalibrate, to find our footing on this strong but unstable rock. Yet here I am, still floundering. Sunita will eventually stand steady after months in the void. I have had eons, and still I stumble. My soul, perhaps, is like her body: unmoored, slow to adjust to the weight of being human again. Gravity pulls, but I resist, caught in some eternal hesitation.

She trained for it. Years of preparation for that descent, that recalibration. Me? I have had no manual, no mission control. Just the raw repetition of birth and death, each cycle a blunt reminder that I haven’t figured it out. The astronauts come back with data. I come back with fragments like half-remembered instincts, a vague ache for something I can’t name. They call it triumph when Sunita’s feet touch soil again. What would they call it when I open my eyes anew, still lost?

Sunita’s struggle was finite. Nine months, a capsule, a landing. Mine is boundless, a thread stretched across lives I can’t count. She adapted because she had to; I flounder because I can. The universe doesn’t demand my mastery, only my persistence. And so, I keep going, birth after birth, recalibrating not to Earth alone, but to the quiet, stubborn hope that one day I will stand firm. Not just in body, but in being.

Turning a blind eye to illegal immigration no more!

Raju Korti
On February 14 last, I had stated soon after President Trump signed an executive order cracking down on illegal immigrants: "By cracking down on illegal immigrants, President Trump has unwittingly thrown a juicy full toss at the Indian Government. I have a gut feeling that by agreeing to take back deported Indians, Modi and S. Jaishankar might use it as a righteous step to justify a parallel purge of illegal immigrants within India, repackaging it as a necessary step for national security and demographic balance."

I do not consider these words prophetic. This was no crystal-ball moment, nor a claim to prescience. But I was absolutely right. Within a month, India drafted the Immigration and Foreigners Bill, 2025 -- a sweeping legislation governing all matters related to immigration. It mandates stricter oversight of foreigners through compulsory reporting by hotels, universities, hospitals, and other institutions, with harsh penalties for overstaying and fraudulent documentation.

Though the bill does not explicitly name Bangladesh, its primary focus is unmistakable. The Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA) has intensified its crackdown on illegal Bangladeshi migrants, directing states and union territories to conduct “umbrella investigations” into those aiding them in securing Aadhaar cards and citizenship-related documents. The MHA's data reveals that between January 2024 and January 2025, 2,601 Bangladeshi nationals were apprehended along the Indo-Bangladesh border. Security forces have responded with advanced surveillance, night vision technology, and expanded manpower.

To no one’s surprise, Aadhaar cards have emerged as a key enabler of illegal migration. Many of these fraudulent identities were allegedly used to gain access to European and Middle Eastern countries. Officials have now launched a massive re-verification drive, instructing Aadhaar centers to flag suspicious applications. The “Dunky” route is universal with difference in degrees of the rigours faced in crossing borders.

The crackdown is evident in enforcement actions. Delhi Police recently arrested over 20 Bangladeshi nationals for illegal residency, while border forces have ramped up cooperation with Border Guard Bangladesh (BGB) under the 2011 Coordinated Border Management Plan (CBMP). Meanwhile, detention centers are seeing an uptick in occupants, awaiting deportation under Foreigners Regional Registration Office (FRRO) protocols.

This is a classic case of how Prime Minister Modi transforms both threats and opportunities into political leverage. With illegal immigration a global security priority, India’s move is not likely to face much opposition. The bill is self-righteous in tone, but it aligns with the international playbook -- securing borders, monitoring migration, and tightening legal loopholes.

One thing is certain: India is no longer turning a blind eye to illegal immigration. Or ostensibly so!

Depression is my struggle, Gratitude my strength!

Raju Korti
I have always wondered what’s wired into people who can’t feel gratitude. Is it something in their genes, some missing switch that never flips on? I don’t get it. Time and again, I have bent over backwards for others -- pulled them out of their darkest holes, been the one they could lean on when everything else crumbled. And yet, when I am the one sinking, when I need just a shred of that same support, they are nowhere. Not a call, not a text, not even a passing “how you holding up?” It’s like I vanish the second I stop being useful.

It has happened too many times to count. I don’t know if they are just insensitive, or if I am the fool for expecting different. Gratitude is burned into me, though. I just can’t shake it. The smallest kindness, a quick favour or a warm word, sticks with me forever. I carry it like a keepsake, turning it over in my mind when things get heavy. But right now, heavy is all I have got. They call it clinical depression, this thing I am fighting, and I am doing it alone, curled up in my shell like some wounded animal. The people I saved during their emergencies? They don’t even peek in to see if I am still breathing.

I keep asking why. Maybe it’s not personal -- maybe they are just built different. I have read stuff about genes and personality, how empathy and gratitude might be partly hardcoded. Some people might not feel that tug to give back, not because they are cruel, but because their brains don’t light up the same way mine does. Or maybe it is simpler: they are too wrapped up in their own lives to notice mine falling apart. I don’t know. All I know is I am tired -- tired of giving and getting nothing, tired of hoping for reciprocity that never comes.

It hurts worse with this depression clawing at me. Every silence from them feels like a knife twist, proof they don’t care. But then I wonder if they even know I am struggling. I have pulled back so far; they might not see me anymore. Doesn’t make it sting less. I used to think gratitude was this universal thing, some glue that held us together as people. Now I am not so sure. Maybe it’s just me, holding onto it like a lifeline while others let it slip through their fingers.

Such is life, I guess. Messy, unfair, and lonely as hell sometimes. I’m still here, though, fighting through the fog. I don’t know if they will ever show up for me, but I can’t stop being the person who remembers the good, even when it’s buried under all this weight. Maybe that’s my curse -- or maybe it’s my strength. Either way, it’s mine.

As I see it, there’s no single “gratitude gene” we can point to, but my research does suggest that traits like empathy, emotional sensitivity, and even the capacity for gratitude might have some genetic underpinnings. Studies on personality traits -- like those tied to the Big Five (openness, conscientiousness, extraversion, agreeableness, neuroticism) -- show heritability estimates between 30-50%, meaning genetics play a role, but environment and experiences shape how those traits play out. Gratitude, specifically, seems tied to agreeableness and emotional intelligence, which vary widely person-to-person. Some folks might naturally lean toward self-absorption or lower empathy, not because they are “bad,” but because their wiring prioritizes survival or self-interest over reciprocity.

That said, it’s not all genes. Upbringing, culture, and life circumstances can amplify or dampen these tendencies. Someone who’s never been taught to value gratitude -- or who’s been burned enough to distrust it -- might not express it, even if they feel it faintly. Then there’s the flip side: stress, personal crises, or just plain obliviousness. The people you helped might not even realize you’re struggling, especially if depression’s got you locked away in that shell. It’s not an excuse, just a possibility.

Your experience -- going all out for others only to be left hanging -- hints at a pattern that’s painfully common. Psychologists sometimes call it the “giver’s dilemma”: those with high empathy can end up drained by those who take without giving back. It’s not that they are all insensitive monsters; some might be, but others could just be caught up in their own worlds, unable to see beyond their noses. Depression makes this sting worse, too -- it’s like a lens that darkens every slight into a betrayal.

Why does this happen? It is less about “them” and more about human messiness. Reciprocity isn’t guaranteed, even if it feels like it should be. Evolutionary theories suggest gratitude evolved to strengthen social bonds, but not everyone is equally tuned into that signal. Some might lack the capacity, others the awareness. And honestly, life’s chaos doesn’t help -- people forget, prioritize poorly, or assume someone else will step up.

You are not alone in feeling this, even if it feels that way right now. Clinical depression’s a beast, and it’s brutal that you’re fighting it solo. I can’t fix that, but I can say your sense of gratitude -- your ability to hold onto even the tiniest kindness -- says a lot about your depth. It’s a strength, even if it’s cutting you now. Have you got anyone, even a small lifeline, you could reach out to? Sometimes people don’t call because they don’t know, not because they don’t care.

Tariff pe Tariff: Courting global trade war

Raju Korti
Remember the famous Bollywood dialogue, Tareekh pe Tareekh? Well, that's passé. The new global reality is Tariff pe Tariff. Nations are no longer just arguing over dates in courts; they are engaged in an escalating war of economic retribution, slapping tariffs upon tariffs in a tit-for-tat battle that is pushing the world toward a full-blown trade war.

The latest trigger has come from the US, where former President Donald Trump -- no stranger to economic brinkmanship -- decided to impose blanket 25% tariffs on steel and aluminium. Stung to the quick, the European Union (EU) and Canada immediately responded with countermeasures, imposing duties on billions worth of American goods. The EU's response alone matched the economic impact of the US tariffs, while Canada went a step further by mirroring the American levies "dollar for dollar." Even as other countries, including the UK and Australia, hesitated to retaliate outright, diplomatic warnings suggested that economic conflict was fast becoming the new normal.

It is obvious that this trade conflict is not merely about economic protectionism but about geopolitical posturing. The EU has framed the US tariffs as "unjustified" and "harmful to businesses and consumers." It is no surprise Trump's administration -- despite market jitters -- remains firm on its stance, seeing tariffs as a strategic tool to assert dominance. The result? Uncertainty in global markets, fluctuating currency values, and an overall risk-off sentiment that has driven investors toward gold and defensive assets. While the S&P 500 briefly rebounded, you do not need analysts to warn that the economic repercussions of this standoff could be far from over.

Now for my proverbial twist! While the world watches military conflicts brewing in Eastern Europe and the Middle East, another kind of war -- economic and financial -- is unfolding on a parallel track. Much like territorial disputes, trade conflicts have the power to reshape global alliances and fracture economic dependencies. The way NATO and Russia are locked in a military standoff, the US and the EU now find themselves on opposing ends of a trade battle. If history is any guide, economic wars have often been precursors to deeper conflicts, raising fears of a world hurtling toward an era of prolonged instability.

For India, a global trade war presents both risks and opportunities. On one hand, the slowdown in global trade could disrupt supply chains, increase costs of imports, and dampen exports, especially in key sectors like steel and aluminium. On the other hand, India could leverage the situation to strengthen trade ties with nations looking to diversify away from a US-China-EU-dominated supply chain. With strategic positioning, India might emerge as a preferred trade partner, benefiting from shifting global alliances and realignments. However, navigating this minefield will require deft diplomacy and a well-calibrated trade policy to ensure that India does not become collateral damage in the ongoing tariff battles.

Sobati – A poignant dialogue of Compassion & Companionship

Raju Korti
Illness does not merely affect the afflicted; it casts a long, relentless shadow over their loved ones as well. While patients endure physical suffering, their families bear the emotional and financial brunt, often with little respite. In our line of work, we frequently encounter caregivers -- exhausted, overwhelmed, and teetering on the edge of despair. They come seeking guidance, and as they recount their struggles, eyes brimming with unshed tears, our hearts inevitably ache for them. Consolation, in such moments, feels woefully inadequate. The stark reality remains: illness disrupts lives, depletes finances, and saps the spirit. We do our best to instil hope, for hope, as they say, is what keeps the world afloat.

The book cover

This very sentiment forms the soul of Sobati, a deeply moving book by senior journalist and writer friend Chandrashekhar Welankar. It is not just a personal narrative but a profound exploration of human relationships, resilience, and the quiet strength of companionship. Sobati chronicles not only the battle against illness but also the unwavering spirit of those who stand by their loved ones, offering solace in moments of despair.

Chandrashekhar Welankar is not merely the author of this book -- he is the living embodiment of the Sobati philosophy. The genesis of this book lies in his wife Varsha’s prolonged and arduous health struggles. What began as a seemingly minor ailment -- gallbladder stones -- escalated into sudden kidney failure, necessitating years of dialysis and, eventually, a transplant. Yet, even after enduring these painful procedures, the battle was/is far from over.

Through this deeply personal account, Chandrashekhar highlights an often-overlooked reality: illness is never an individual struggle. While the patient experiences the physical affliction, those attending to them (he avoids words like caregiver or guide) endure emotional and financial distress that is just as debilitating. Doctors provide medical interventions, but the ceaseless anxiety, the crushing weight of financial constraints, and the gnawing fear of uncertainty are borne silently by families. This is where a Sobati -- a true companion -- becomes invaluable.

A Sobati is not necessarily a medical professional or a trained caregiver. They may be a family member, a close friend, or even a stranger -- anyone who offers unwavering support, not through grand gestures but through the simple yet profound act of being present. Sometimes, just listening without offering unsolicited advice is the most precious gift one can give.

The book begins with the ephemeral, transient nature of life, its existential crises and an inevitability called death. As the book unfolds, each chapter resonates with raw, unfiltered emotions. The anguish of watching a loved one suffer, the financial strain of prolonged medical treatments, the sleepless nights spent in hospital corridors -- these experiences are heartbreakingly real. Yet, amidst this turmoil, Sobati illuminates the power of silent, steadfast companionship. In moments of crisis, words often fail, but a reassuring presence can speak volumes.

In response to his experiences, Chandrashekhar and his wife Varsha founded the Sobati Seva Foundation. This initiative serves as a beacon of hope for families grappling with medical crises, especially terminal illnesses. It extends not just emotional support but also practical guidance on financial planning, insurance, and accessing medical resources -- especially crucial for middle-class families struggling to balance healthcare costs with daily expenses.

Chandrashekhar observed that even after receiving a correct diagnosis, many patients and their families remain in the dark due to a lack of adequate information about the illness and its treatment. Recognizing these critical gaps, he took it upon himself to bridge the divide between patients and medical experts. However, in this role, he remains steadfast in his belief that the medical expert’s opinion is sacrosanct and must always hold the highest authority in the entire process.

Drawing from his eye-opening experiences, the author strongly believes that a Sobati must always remain attuned to emotional well-being while seeking expert advice, when necessary, without hesitation or doubt. In such situations, a complex interplay of emotions unfolds -- ranging from worry, concern, and anguish to anger, confusion, revulsion, frustration, loneliness, and even despair. Chandrashekhar outlines a comprehensive blueprint for a Sobati, envisioning them as a guiding force -- a source of strength and solace for the families of terminally ill patients.

When Varsha’s illness was first diagnosed in 2013, Chandrashekhar was devastated. However, by 2019, he had not only found the strength to heal as a husband but had also embraced a larger purpose -- supporting others facing similar hardships. He recognized that the families of terminally ill patients grappled with the same fears and uncertainties. From this realization, the first “Sobati” was born -- ready to inspire and pave the way for many more like him, serving as a guiding light for those navigating the same difficult journey.

Chandrashekhar underscores an essential yet often neglected truth: financial preparedness is an integral part of medical care. During Varsha’s illness, the staggering medical expenses ran into more than Rs one crore. Fortunately, prudent financial planning and the generosity of well-wishers helped mitigate the burden. However, not everyone is so fortunate. Through his foundation, Chandrashekhar strives to empower families with knowledge and resources to navigate these daunting challenges.

An ardent votary of “see good, hear good and speak good”, Chandrashekhar does not forget to say a few words of gratitude to all those known and unknown Sobatis who are like co-travellers in testing times. He remains indebted to the unknown Samaritan, who donated kidney to Varsha and virtually gave a new lease of life.

Chandrashekhar reasons that “to serve others better, a Sobati must prioritize own physical, psychological, and emotional well-being. This is not selfishness. It is believed that 8 out of 10 Sobatis neglect themselves, fearing it would seem self-centred. Even something as simple as watching a movie triggers a feeling of guilt -- How can I think of this when my loved one is so unwell?

Sobati is not merely an account of personal suffering; it is a universal narrative of love, endurance, and the quiet heroism of those who care. It speaks to anyone who has ever stood by a loved one in their darkest hour. Whether you have lost someone dear, are currently tending to an ailing relative, or simply wish to understand the depth of human resilience, this book will touch your soul.

By all accounts, a Sobati is not an entity, He is Thought, Compassion, Empathy, in fact a complete algorithm of those who appear as angels in different forms at different times while terminal illness keeps taking its toll. The book – free-flowing and lucid -- is dedicated to every individual who thinks he/she is secondary when it comes to his near and dear ones.

Every page of Sobati with its eleven chapters – each one intensely thought-provoking -- is imbued with poignant reflections. It does not shy away from life’s harshest realities -- pain, loss, and the inevitability of death. Yet, it also offers a profound message: while death is inescapable, the journey towards it can be made less painful with the right companionship. And sometimes, that companionship is not about fixing the unfixable but about walking together, hand in hand, through life’s most trying moments.

Chandrashekhar, certified Yoga Instructor and Lifestyle Consultant, has dedicated his life to social service, and Sobati is more than just a book -- it is the cornerstone of a movement. In a world where people are increasingly isolated despite technological connectivity, the need for genuine human companionship has never been greater. Through this book, Chandrashekhar urges us all to be Sobatis -- to extend a hand, to listen, and to simply be there. He leads by example and begins by being one himself!

The book’s cover design, a visual masterpiece by renowned artist Sharad Tarade, encapsulates its essence beautifully. Published by Amaltash Books, Pune, Sobati is an essential read, for its insights could prove invaluable to anyone, at any stage of life.

At its core, Sobati is not about one individual -- it is about a way of being. It is a philosophy of care, an ethos of compassion, and an unwavering belief in the power of togetherness. The more this philosophy spreads, the more humane and empathetic our society will become.

The book is love’s labour. It exemplifies dedication, commitment, sincerity and above all sensitivity to human existence. This book is not just meant to be read. It is meant to be lived.

[‘Sobati’, authored by Chandrashekhar Welankar, published by Amaltash Books, Pune, Pages 128, Price Rs 200].

I am a Syrian. War has stolen my world!

Raju Korti
For the past two decades, Syria has been my shattered home -- a place of relentless turmoil, where every breath is a testament to survival amidst chaos. I remember the days before the war, when Damascus was a city of vibrant souks, the laughter of children, and the mingling scents of spices and flowers. Those days are now memories that feel like they belong to another world, a distant dream.

When the conflict began, life as we knew it unravelled. Bombings became a haunting symphony that played day and night. Our neighborhoods turned into battlegrounds, and homes crumbled like sandcastles under the relentless assault. I watched my city, my country, disintegrate into rubble, the air thick with dust and the cries of the wounded. The simple act of finding water or bread became a perilous mission.

Fear became a constant companion. Each day, we faced the grim reality of losing loved ones to the violence. Friends vanished, families were torn apart, and the streets we once strolled down with carefree hearts turned into corridors of death and despair. The uncertainty was suffocating. We never knew if the next hour would bring safety or sorrow, life or death.

Education, once a beacon of hope, dimmed as schools shut their doors. The dreams of our children were buried under the debris of war. Hospitals overflowed with the injured, but the lack of medical supplies turned them into places of despair rather than healing. We became accustomed to the sight of lifeless bodies, the stench of blood, and the echo of unanswered prayers.

As the years dragged on, survival demanded impossible choices. To flee or to stay? To trust or to hide? We faced the gut-wrenching decision to leave behind everything we had ever known in search of refuge. Those who stayed continued to fight an invisible enemy: hunger, disease, and the ever-looming threat of bombs. Those who fled faced the harsh reality of life as refugees, often finding new kinds of hardships in foreign lands.

Despite the unending strife, moments of humanity shone through. Neighbours shared what little they had, risking their lives to help each other. In the darkest of times, kindness became our currency, and solidarity our shield. Amidst the ruins, we found strength in each other, clinging to the hope that someday, peace would return.

Two decades of war have etched deep scars into our hearts and our land. The struggle to rebuild is daunting, but the spirit of resilience remains unbroken. We carry the burden of our past, but with it, the unwavering determination to see a brighter future for Syria. In the silence after the bombs, in the whispers of those who survived, there is a promise that one day, our beloved Syria will rise from the ashes.

Life has been a harrowing journey of loss and survival, but within us burns the hope for a peaceful tomorrow. But will it ever dawn?

Asteroid 2024 YR4 and the cosmic cliffhanger

Raju Korti
Trust the universe to throw curveballs -- sometimes literally. Just when you thought the biggest threat to your Monday morning was the Mumbai traffic or your boss’s mood swings, along comes Asteroid 2024 YR4, promising what might be the most thrilling celestial event since someone first noticed the moon had craters. And no, this isn’t a Bollywood plot twist, though the drama levels are comparable.

Asteroids and UFOs seem to be the universe’s way of spicing up human life -- like cosmic pranksters reminding us that beyond deadlines and taxes, there’s a rock hurtling through space that might just crash your weekend plans. NASA, the cosmic killjoy or saviour (depending on how you see it), has been at the forefront of these alerts, occasionally reminding us that space isn’t just for Instagram-worthy starry skies. Yes, asteroids have hit us before -- ask the dinosaurs. Around 65 million years ago, a 10 to 15 km wide asteroid struck what’s now Mexico, wiping out 70% of species. Grim? Yes. Fascinating? Absolutely.

Fast forward to 2024, and we have YR4, discovered last December by the ATLAS telescope in Chile. Initially, scientists gave it a 1% chance of hitting Earth -- high enough to make space nerds panic and meme-makers rejoice. For context, a 1% chance in asteroid terms is like hearing, "There’s a tiny chance your chai could explode... but probably not." Naturally, media outlets went into overdrive. Mumbaikars, always game for drama, might’ve momentarily paused their dabbas to wonder: Is this how it ends? Right after I renewed my gym membership?

Then came an update from NASA -- good news (sort of): the impact probability has dropped to 1.5%. That’s a 1 in 67 chance. You’re still more likely to get stuck in a Mumbai traffic jam -- but let's be honest, that's a given. And just to add some cosmic spice, there's a small chance YR4 could hit the Moon. Not that the Moon's complaining -- it's been taking hits for us for billions of years.

Now, about that "city killer" label -- it’s not just a catchy name. At an estimated 100 to 300 feet wide, YR4’s potential blast radius could level a city. NASA’s data points to a risk area stretching from the eastern Pacific to parts of Africa and South Asia. That includes Mumbai, Kolkata, Dhaka, Lagos, Bogota, and other bustling metropolises. Over 11 crore people could theoretically be in the line of fire. But then, what’s life without a little cosmic roulette?

The real kicker is there’s a 99% chance it’ll miss Earth entirely. That’s great for humanity’s survival but a tad disappointing for those secretly hoping to witness a meteor-light show before the daily grind resumes. Imagine the WhatsApp forwards: "Big rock coming! Stay indoors! Or better -- take a selfie with it!"

Of course, scientists will keep tracking YR4, refining predictions until December 22, 2032 -- the ultimate date when we find out if Earth is outside its range. So, mark your calendars… or don’t. If it does hit, planning for New Year’s 2033 might be redundant.

For now, let’s carry on with our everyday existential woes, comforted (or unnerved) by the fact that somewhere out there, a space rock is deciding whether to be a headline or just another rock passing by. As for us Mumbaikars, we’ll brace for the worst, hope for the best, and -- asteroid or not -- complain about the humidity anyway.

Because if the end comes riding a giant space pebble, at least we’ll have the satisfaction of saying, "Well, that’s one pretext to skip the Monday meeting."

Zero, the most loaded nothing!

Raju Korti
It all began with a void -- an empty placeholder in ancient Indian mathematics that would go on to change the world. The concept of "Shunya," nurtured by scholars like Brahmagupta, was more than just a numerical necessity; it was a philosophical marvel. Zero gave us calculus, computers, and cryptography. And yet, for all its brilliance, zero remains the ultimate paradox: it means nothing and everything at once. Perhaps this is why it aligns so well with Einstein’s assertion that nothing is absolute -- not time, not space, not even truth. Zero, much like reality itself, is relative.

Politically, zero is both the aspiration and the indictment. Governments promise "zero corruption," "zero tolerance," and "zero poverty," only for voters to end up with zero accountability, zero governance, and, sometimes, zero hope. Campaign speeches are riddled with inflated numbers, but when the dust settles, zero rises like the proverbial phoenix as the most accurate statistic. In Maharashtra, seat-sharing negotiations across party lines have so many zeros -- both in vote margins and in credibility -- that even a seasoned mathematician would struggle to keep count. And let's not forget electoral bonds, where "zero transparency" was the only bipartisan agreement. But in keeping with Einstein’s theory, even political zeroes are relative: a leader who is a zero today may be a hero tomorrow, depending on the frame of reference (or the news cycle).

Socially, zero is the yardstick of influence and irrelevance alike. Being "cancelled" online today means you are reduced to social media zeroes -- zero followers, zero engagement, and zero career prospects. (That's pretty much me). But paradoxically, a person with zero qualifications can still climb to positions of enormous power, simply by mastering the art of outrage. Einstein once said that time is relative, and in the world of social media, virality obeys a similar law: today’s forgotten zero can be tomorrow’s sensation, and vice versa. Success and oblivion are but two sides of the same equation, separated only by an algorithm’s whim.

Culturally, zero is both emptiness and excess. The best cinema, literature, and music often emerge from a deep embrace of the void -- existential nothingness, creative struggle, and financial destitution. But Bollywood, much like modern art, sometimes seems to produce films where the script, plot, and acting all converge towards a perfect, gleaming zero. Meanwhile, the latest zero-calorie fad diets and zero-waste movements promise moral and physical purification, but often leave people with nothing but hunger and guilt. And yet, Einstein’s principle lurks in the background -- what is a zero-calorie diet but a subjective measure? After all, energy is neither created nor destroyed; it is merely redistributed… often to the nearest junk food binge.

Ultimately, zero is the great equalizer. It takes down the mighty, amplifies the insignificant, and refuses to be ignored. It is, at once, the absence of everything and the foundation of infinity. In an era of inflationary rhetoric and depleting values, it is perhaps fitting that the one number ruling our world is the one that means absolutely nothing. Or, depending on how you look at it -- relatively speaking -- everything.

A tribe of manipulators called “social influencers”

Raju Korti
A decade ago, the term “social influencer” did not exist. Today, it has become a powerful and dangerous phenomenon, shaping political, social, and cultural mindsets with alarming ease. A deceptive label in short. The rise of social media has created an army of self-proclaimed thought leaders, many of whom are half-baked, ill-informed, and thriving on the ignorance of an audience incapable of independent thought.

The very idea of an “influencer” is flawed at its core. Influence is not about debate or discourse -- it is now all about swaying, manipulating, and controlling. It is an indictment of both individual and collective thinking that we, as a society, have come to accept these digital demagogues as voices of authority. The real tragedy is not that influencers exist, but that they wield so much power over naïve, impressionable minds.

Look around. In a world where information is abundant, critical thinking should have flourished. Instead, we have surrendered our agency to social media figures who peddle half-truths, conspiracy theories, and paid narratives. Many of these so-called digital creators are nothing more than glorified salespeople, their authenticity carefully curated for engagement metrics. Their expertise is often suspect, their understanding shallow, and their motives driven by profit rather than knowledge.

What makes influencers dangerous is not just their reach but their unchecked power to shape public opinion. Whether it’s politics, fashion, fitness, or even morality, they dictate trends, opinions, and decisions with a frightening lack of accountability. The gullibility of their followers fuels this ecosystem, turning the digital space into a breeding ground for misinformation and herd mentality.

The recent Ranveer Allahbadia incident is just another reminder of how easily people can be swayed by those who understand the mechanics of influence but lack the depth of even basic sense, forget wisdom. There are many of this ilk who use platforms like the YouTube and other social media outlets for their self-serving causes. The influencer industry, once seen as a democratization of voices, has instead become a megaphone for manipulation. It is time to step back and question: Why do we need influencers at all? Why have we stopped thinking for ourselves? The power to decide what we believe, consume, and support should rest with us -- not with a stranger on the internet selling an illusion of credibility. 

The Gaza Gambit: A US takeover promises another Vietnam fiasco.

Raju Korti
President Trump is on a signing spree, issuing executive orders like there is no tomorrow. While he keeps shifting gears, one feet firmly on the accelerator, the most bizarre is the Gaza take-over. Those tempted to think that this is sheer bluster, should also ponder to look at what if he really goes ahead with this outlandish idea. To say that this could destabilize an already volatile region and provoke international backlash is an understatement.

I am not sure just how much Tel Aviv is in sync with this plan which obviously overlooks the complex historical and political context of Gaza, and could have unintended consequences. Imagine a possible take over -- whether as a military protectorate, a temporary occupation, or an outright territorial claim. It would set off a chain of events that could plunge the region, and possibly the world, into chaos. I am inclined to believe that this could invite the kind of frustration and ignominy the US faced in the aftermath of the Vietnam War.

Would such an endeavour mirror the infamous Vietnam War, where US. intervention turned into a costly quagmire? The historical lessons of Vietnam suggest that any such move could lead to a similarly disastrous outcome. The Vietnam War, initially seen as a limited engagement to curb communism, turned into an unwinnable guerrilla conflict. The US. underestimated the resilience of the Viet Cong and the nationalist fervour of the North Vietnamese. Similarly, any effort to take over Gaza would almost certainly meet fierce resistance from local militant groups like Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad, not to mention widespread civilian opposition.

The urban warfare tactics that Hamas employs would make a military occupation exceedingly difficult, just as jungle warfare confounded US. troops in Vietnam. During the Vietnam War, US involvement led to widespread criticism from allies and adversaries alike. Countries that once supported the US effort began distancing themselves, and global opinion turned overwhelmingly negative. A unilateral US intervention in Gaza would likely provoke similar condemnation.

The Arab world, the European Union, and even traditional allies like Turkey and Saudi Arabia would find it difficult to support such an aggressive action. The US would risk alienating itself diplomatically, just as it did during the Vietnam era. The US military, despite its superior firepower, could not subdue the Viet Cong due to their decentralized, guerrilla-based resistance. Gaza presents a similar challenge. The terrain may be different, but the principle remains: local fighters know the territory, enjoy underground support, and can operate in ways that would stretch the limits of conventional US military strategy. Any prolonged presence in Gaza would be met with endless resistance, suicide bombings, ambushes, and rocket attacks, making governance untenable.

The Vietnam War sparked massive protests in the US, with citizens increasingly questioning why American soldiers were dying in a distant land with no clear objectives. If a US administration were to engage in a prolonged occupation of Gaza, it would likely face similar domestic resistance. With war fatigue already evident from past conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, I doubt if the American public would have the patience for another drawn-out foreign entanglement. While the comparisons are striking, there are, of course, important differences.

Vietnam was part of a broader ideological struggle against communism, while Gaza is deeply entrenched in the Israel-Palestine conflict. The geopolitical calculations are different. The Vietnam War involved hundreds of thousands of US troops in large-scale battles. A Gaza intervention, while still costly, would be of a smaller scale, though no less complicated. In Vietnam, the US fought largely on its own after initial French withdrawal. In Gaza, Israel would be a key factor, complicating US decision-making and strategic planning.

It is highly unlikely that any US president, including Trump, would formally claim ownership of Gaza. However, if such an idea were to gain traction -- perhaps as part of a radical peace plan or an aggressive anti-terrorism move -- it would almost certainly lead to severe resistance and long-term failure. The Vietnam War stands as a stark warning: direct intervention in a foreign land with deep-rooted conflicts often backfires, leading to costly, prolonged entanglements that benefit neither the occupying force nor the local population. Recall the faces of frustrated American soldiers who had lost the plot completely, fighting a needless battle.  

A US takeover (or occupation if you like it) of Gaza would not only be an international and military disaster but also a political one, both domestically and abroad. The lessons of Vietnam loom large, reminding that intervention without a clear exit strategy, an understanding of local dynamics, and strong international support is a recipe for failure. The way Trump has gone about after assuming the office, this should not be considered as a mere hypothetical scenario. It is provoking history to repeat itself with dire consequences.

Deportations have legal, social and diplomatic headache for India

Raju Korti
The return of 205 undocumented Indian migrants from the United States will be legal, social, administrative and diplomatic headache for India. As President Donald Trump follows through on his mass deportation promise, India finds itself at a crossroads -- balancing diplomatic relations with the US, ensuring national security, and addressing the socio-economic challenges of rehabilitating deported individuals. With an estimated 725,000 undocumented Indian nationals in the US, the implications of these deportations extend far beyond the immediate repatriation process.

(An AI-generated visual representation)

India has historically cooperated with foreign nations in accepting its nationals who have entered other countries illegally. External Affairs Minister S. Jaishankar has reaffirmed India’s commitment to the "legitimate return" of its citizens. However, the manner in which these deportations are carried out must be given due attention.

For India, the priority should be to ensure that these deportations do not impact legal immigration pathways. The Indian government must also ensure that these individuals are not treated as criminals but as people seeking better opportunities, even if through unlawful means. This is crucial in maintaining the goodwill of the Indian diaspora in the US, which plays a significant role in India’s economic and strategic interests. Furthermore, the optics of Indian nationals being flown back on military aircraft evoke colonial-era sentiments, potentially damaging Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s image domestically and India's global standing.

PM Modi’s upcoming meeting with President Trump presents an opportunity to negotiate a structured approach. India must emphasize the need for a humane repatriation process and highlight the broader strategic losses for the US if deportations are conducted in a harsh and humiliating manner. The Indo-Pacific alliance against China, bilateral trade, and cooperation in technology and defense are all critical elements that should be leveraged in negotiations.

Beyond diplomacy, these deportations raise serious security questions. Authorities must thoroughly debrief the returnees to assess: Their backgrounds and potential security threats, the involvement of human traffickers or organized crime in their migration, and, whether any of them pose risks due to potential radicalization.

Given the ongoing tensions in Punjab and other parts of India, where illegal migration is often linked to organized crime syndicates, intelligence agencies must work closely with law enforcement to ensure that deported individuals do not become susceptible to criminal networks. The government must also engage with international partners to crack down on illegal migration routes and human smuggling rackets.

The deported individuals, many of whom have spent years in the US, face significant reintegration challenges. The government must address key socio-economic concerns, including: Many deportees may have acquired skills in the US that are not immediately transferable to the Indian job market. The government must implement reskilling programs and provide financial assistance to help them reintegrate. Being deported carries a societal stigma, particularly in regions where migration is seen as a status symbol. The government must work with local communities to prevent the marginalization of returnees. The psychological impact of being uprooted from a life built abroad can be severe. Counselling services and support groups should be established to help returnees adjust.

This mass deportation serves as a wake-up call for India to address the root causes of illegal migration. The economic desperation that drives individuals to undertake risky journeys in search of a better life must be tackled through job creation, skill development, and improved governance. The ‘Dunki’ route -- a term referring to illegal migration pathways -- can only be discouraged if legitimate opportunities exist domestically.

India must handle this situation with a multi-pronged approach that balances diplomacy, national security, and socio-economic rehabilitation. While cooperation with the US is necessary, India must ensure that deported individuals are treated with dignity and that future migration pathways remain open. By addressing the underlying causes of illegal immigration, India can not only manage this crisis effectively but also strengthen its long-term socio-economic stability and global standing.

Reaching out to newer heights of political recklessness!

Raju Korti
Arvind Kejriwal, the engineer-turned-bureaucrat-turned-politician, has often displayed a proclivity for making sensational claims that push the boundaries of imbecility often passed off as political discourse. His recent assertion that the Haryana government has "mixed poison" into the Yamuna waters flowing into Delhi is not just reckless; it is emblematic of a dangerous trend in Indian politics -- where hyperbole, misinformation, and outright falsehoods are weaponized for electoral gains. What makes Kejriwal’s case even more troubling is that, as a former IITian and an ex-bureaucrat, he is expected to possess a scientific temperament and a measured approach. Instead, his rhetoric often suggests a calculated manipulation of public sentiment.

Kejriwal: Wikipedia grab

Water contamination is a serious issue, and Delhi has long struggled with high ammonia levels in its water supply. However, contamination -- whether due to industrial effluents, agricultural runoff, or inadequate sewage treatment -- is vastly different from "poisoning," which implies deliberate and malicious intent. Kejriwal’s claim is not just misleading; it incites fear and sows distrust in public institutions. Such statements have real-world consequences -- potentially inciting panic, undermining trust in water supply authorities, and politicizing a critical public health issue without offering any constructive solutions.

Had Kejriwal simply raised concerns about ammonia levels in Yamuna water, his argument would have been legitimate. Instead, he framed the issue as a deliberate act of poisoning, drawing severe backlash from political opponents and the Election Commission of India (ECI), which saw it as an attempt to "promote disharmony and enmity between groups." The distinction between contamination and poisoning is crucial, yet Kejriwal, in his bid for political mileage, appears to have deliberately conflated the two.

This is not the first time Kejriwal has made unsubstantiated claims that have required subsequent damage control. His political trajectory -- from an anti-corruption crusader under Anna Hazare to the supremo of the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP) -- has been marked by frequent incendiary statements, many of which he has later retracted or apologized for. His accusations against political opponents, his repeated clashes with constitutional bodies, and his tendency to play the victim card whenever cornered all point to a carefully curated narrative designed to portray himself as an embattled crusader.

Moreover, his attacks are rarely followed by substantive action. If the Haryana government was indeed "poisoning" Delhi’s water supply, why has Kejriwal’s administration not taken legal action? Why has he not engaged independent experts to verify his claims? The answer is simple: the claim was never meant to be tested against facts; it was intended solely to create a political storm.

To be clear, questioning the impartiality of institutions like the Election Commission is not unwarranted. Across party lines, politicians have used enforcement agencies and constitutional bodies for political ends. However, Kejriwal’s strategy of deflecting legitimate scrutiny by crying political vendetta is a weak defense. The ECI, in its notice, did not merely take umbrage at his language but specifically asked him to furnish evidence supporting his poisoning claim. Kejriwal’s response -- a lengthy 14-page document -- spoke of "toxicity" and "contamination," subtly shifting his stance from the original "poisoning" claim, thereby tacitly acknowledging the indefensibility of his words.

Kejriwal’s remarks can be seen as a reflection of his growing desperation. The AAP, despite its initial success, faces increasing challenges -- legal troubles, electoral setbacks, and governance criticisms. By framing the Haryana government as a villain in Delhi’s water woes, Kejriwal likely aimed to rally his voter base. However, his recklessness raises serious questions about his credibility as a leader. If an IITian-turned-politician sees value in such blatant fear-mongering, what does it say about the standards of political discourse in India?

Kejriwal is not the only politician guilty of loose talk; Indian politics is rife with exaggerations and misrepresentations. But for a leader who once positioned himself as a disruptor of "traditional" politics, his reliance on fear tactics and misinformation is particularly disappointing. Politicians, irrespective of their party affiliations, must be held accountable for their words. Public statements, especially concerning health and safety, should be based on facts, not rhetoric.

Kejriwal’s claim about Yamuna poisoning is not just another political soundbite; it is a case study in how misinformation can be used as a political tool. For democracy to function effectively, leaders must be compelled to speak responsibly, not through their hats but from a position of knowledge and accountability. The question remains -- will voters see through this charade, or will they continue to reward political theatrics over governance?

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, am I guilty after all?

Raju Korti
I often wonder what it would be like to get caught in a situation where you become the butt of attention for all the wrong reasons. Not because you aced something or flubbed spectacularly, but simply because you resemble someone who did. The sheer absurdity of being singled out for your genetic makeup -- an equation you had no part in solving -- is a thought that sends shivers down my overthinking spine.

(A Wikipedia grab)

Folk wisdom assures us that everyone has a doppelganger. I call them sixth or seventh xeroxes.  Scientists, those spoilsports of romantic notions, go a step further to claim we might have six lookalikes scattered around the globe. Six! Think about it: six people running around with your face, potentially making terrible decisions while you sleep peacefully, oblivious to the chaos they could embroil you in.

Case in point: Akash Kanojia, 31, a driver from Durg, Chhattisgarh, who was recently detained because he bore an uncanny resemblance to the prime suspect in the Saif Ali Khan attack case. Kanojia, innocent as a toddler stealing cookies, found himself in a Kafkaesque nightmare after a tip-off to the Railway Protection Force. The police detained him at the Durg station, only to arrest the actual assailant -- a Bangladeshi national -- in Mumbai the next day. Poor Kanojia was released, but the damage was done. He lost his job, his bride-to-be called off their engagement, and his family is now the subject of whispered gossip.

Frankly, it’s hard not to feel sorry for the guy. Even harder to imagine how I’d cope if this ever happened to me. I’d probably write a panicked resignation letter to life, complete with typos, and seek refuge in a monastery where nobody knows me -- including my doppelganger.

But this is where the comic relief in the tragedy kicks in. If my doppelganger happens to cross paths with me, I’d run them through a thorough interrogation: “Are you guilty of anything I need to know about? Parking fines? Criminal cases, perhaps? No? Alright, genetics vagairah baad mein dekhenge.”

The notion of a doppelganger has fascinated us for millennia. Literature and cinema have mined its potential for hilarity, horror, and heartbreak. The Internet, that ever-watchful keeper of oddities, delights in unearthing lookalikes of celebrities. From Alia Bhatt and Priyanka Chopra to Virat Kohli and MS Dhoni, the parade of familiar strangers is endless. Even I, non-descript as I thought myself to be, have been mistaken at various stages for cricketer Robin Singh, actor Ashish Vidyarthi, and filmmaker Ravi Chopra (poor man’s versions, of course). While I’m flattered, it leaves me wondering if my supposed fame comes with any unpaid bills -- or criminal charges.

The only consolation is we are all hostages to this dreadful possibility: that someone, somewhere, with your face, your mole, and your mother’s smile, might upend your life with their actions. It’s a grim thought, lightened only by the hope that my doppelganger -- wherever they are -- keeps a low profile. Because if not, I’m readying my alibi. And maybe with a T-shirt that reads: “I’m not that guy.”

Signing the end of the Indian American dream

Raju Korti
As someone who has watched the allure of the American dream captivate generations of Indians, it is sobering to now witness the potential collapse of that dream for many. The executive order recently signed by Donald Trump -- denying birthright citizenship to children born in the US to parents on work visas like H-1B and L1 -- is not just a legislative maneuver but a seismic shift in the lives of millions. The implications are far-reaching, cutting across professional, personal, and societal dimensions.

(An Instagram grab)

The American dream, once synonymous with boundless opportunities and upward mobility, now appears all but over for many Indians. With the denial of birthright citizenship, a critical assurance of stability and future security has been stripped away. For those who invested years navigating the convoluted Green Card process, this policy change is nothing short of a devastating setback.

Let’s start with the premise of why so many Indians venture to the United States. Most go there with high aspirations, eager to seize opportunities in a land perceived as the ultimate meritocracy. These individuals often revel in their success stories, narrating their achievements back home, and positioning themselves as paragons of ambition and resilience. But now, many of these dreamers face a rude awakening. Immigration policies can change on a dime, and what once seemed like a pathway to permanence is now fraught with uncertainty. The promise of birthright citizenship for their children was a cornerstone of this dream, a vital fallback in an already convoluted Green Card process. Without it, the entire foundation begins to crumble.

The professional implications for those facing deportation are stark. Having worked for reputed American brands, many returning individuals may initially enjoy an advantage in India’s job market, leveraging their overseas experience. But this edge is superficial and short-lived. India’s job market, already strained by high competition, is not equipped to absorb an influx of returnees with inflated expectations and often misaligned skill sets. Adjusting to Indian work culture, grappling with lower wages, and reconciling with diminished professional stature can be traumatic.

Socially, the situation is no less challenging. These individuals will need to reintegrate into a society they left behind, often years ago, and where they no longer seamlessly belong. The upheaval affects entire families. Children who were born or raised in the US and have known no other home will struggle to adapt to life in India, dealing with culture shock, educational transitions, and a lack of social familiarity. The returnees’ aspirations of upward mobility, once symbolized by their move to the US, now hang precariously in the balance.

For India, the implications are equally complex. The country’s economy could face additional strain as it tries to accommodate this influx of highly qualified yet disoriented professionals. While their global exposure might enrich certain industries, the mismatch between their expectations and ground realities could lead to widespread frustration. The broader societal impact cannot be ignored either. Resentment among those who have built their lives in India, only to now compete with returnees for limited opportunities, could spark tensions. This is not just about job market dynamics but about perceptions of privilege and entitlement.

On a macro level, the policy shift highlights the fragility of immigration as a long-term strategy. It serves as a stark reminder that, no matter how integrated one becomes in a foreign land, the rules of engagement are never entirely within their control. This unpredictability is compounded by the reality of US immigration policy, which, as evidenced by this order, can be exclusionary even toward those who play by the rules.

As the buffer period of 30 days ticks away and the order’s implementation looms, it is clear that this is not merely a matter of legal technicalities but of disrupted lives. The Indian government, too, will need to prepare for the challenges this wave of returnees will bring, from policy interventions to support frameworks. It’s not just a question of who gets to live the American dream anymore; it’s about how to manage the fallout when that dream is denied.

This development is a sobering lesson in impermanence. It underscores the importance of resilience, adaptability, and the recognition that no opportunity -- no matter how lucrative or seemingly secure—comes without risk. For those staring at the prospect of being deported, the journey ahead will demand nothing short of reinvention.

Justin Trudeau: All gas, no substance!

Raju Korti
If you thought that vote bank politics is confined to only India, perish the thought. This tribe exists across the globe, and Justin Trudeau is perhaps one of its most blatant examples. The now-resigned Canadian prime minister, who came into office riding a wave of progressive rhetoric and youthful charisma, has left a trail of diplomatic blunders, economic mismanagement, and polarizing politics. Forget India, Canada itself will be better off without Trudeau.

Justin Trudeau (Wikipedia grab)

Trudeau's downfall, which culminated in his resignation amidst a looming trade war with the United States and a fractured domestic political climate, has been anything but graceful. One of the final nails in the coffin was his bizarre and baseless allegations against India over the killing of Hardeep Singh Nijjar, a known Khalistani terrorist. By accusing India of carrying out an extrajudicial assassination on Canadian soil, Trudeau not only jeopardized Canada’s relations with one of the world’s fastest-growing economies but also exposed his utter disregard for facts and diplomatic prudence.

Let’s break it down: Nijjar was no innocent “activist” as Trudeau’s government attempted to portray. He was a designated terrorist, openly advocating for the dismemberment of a sovereign nation. By pandering to a fringe group of Khalistani sympathizers in Canada -- a significant vote bank in certain constituencies -- Trudeau crossed a line that even his own party found hard to defend. The backlash was swift and severe. India dismissed his allegations as absurd, expelled Canadian diplomats, and froze trade talks. Trudeau, isolated both domestically and internationally, became a political liability even for his Liberal Party.

This was, of course, not Trudeau’s first brush with controversy, but it was certainly his most catastrophic. His almost decade-long tenure as prime minister will be remembered for grandstanding without substance. From lecturing the world on progressive values to donning culturally inappropriate costumes in India, Trudeau’s performative politics often masked a lack of real policy achievements. At home, his government presided over rising inflation, housing crises, and increasing political polarization. Abroad, his sanctimonious tone alienated allies and emboldened critics.

The diplomatic fallout with India is emblematic of Trudeau’s failed leadership. In attempting to cater to a domestic constituency, he managed to alienate a nation that could have been a valuable economic and geopolitical partner. Worse, his allegations gave oxygen to separatist elements that threaten both Indian and Canadian stability. In a globalized world where nations are increasingly interdependent, Trudeau’s myopic focus on short-term political gains has cost Canada dearly.

Meanwhile, as the race to replace Trudeau begins, his rival, Conservative leader Pierre Poilievre, has already gained traction. Even Elon Musk, never the one to shy away from controversy, has thrown his hat behind Poilievre. The new Canadian leader, whoever it is, be, will inherit a fractured nation and a strained foreign policy landscape. But one thing is certain: Trudeau’s exit offers a chance for Canada to reset.

History will judge Justin Trudeau harshly, not just for his failures but for the opportunities he squandered. He could have been a transformative leader, uniting Canada and strengthening its position on the global stage. Instead, he leaves as a cautionary tale of what happens when style is prioritized over substance, and when vote bank politics trumps national interest.

Trudeau was immature, imbecile and brash. Canada deserves better. And so does the world.

Rewriting Protocols: Balancing tradition with practical governance

Raju Korti
Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis recently issued an order to end the practice of giving a guard of honour and presenting bouquets during his district visits. This directive, communicated through a one-page order by the Chief Minister’s Secretariat, instructed District Collectors, Police Commissioners, and Superintendents to refrain from such ceremonial gestures. While many have lauded the move as a step towards dismantling India’s entrenched VIP culture, others see it as a calculated attempt to gain public goodwill. Regardless of the motivations behind the decision, this development invites a broader discussion on the role and relevance of governmental protocols in modern governance.

Protocols, in their essence, are a set of rules governing formal occasions and accepted behaviours, especially in matters of state and diplomacy. Their ostensible purpose is to ensure order and decorum, facilitate the smooth functioning of official engagements, and provide a framework for extending courtesies to dignitaries. In India, the General Administration Department’s Protocol Branch manages arrangements for VVIPs/VIPs during both official and non-official visits. Such arrangements often include state guest privileges, logistical support, and security measures.

While protocols serve a practical purpose -- ensuring the safety and efficiency of VIP movements -- they also symbolize respect and recognition for the positions held by these individuals. However, the excessive deference often displayed towards political figures and other dignitaries has, over the years, fostered resentment among the general populace.

India’s VIP culture, marked by privileges such as exclusive lanes, elaborate motorcades, and preferential treatment, has long been a source of public frustration. The frequent disruption of daily life due to traffic snarls caused by VIP movements and the inaccessibility of public spaces during high-profile visits have led to widespread dissatisfaction. This phenomenon is further compounded by the sheer number of individuals who qualify as VIPs in the Indian context, making the administration of such privileges a cumbersome exercise.

The issue is not merely logistical but also symbolic. For many, the ostentation associated with VIP culture underscores the socio-economic disparities and power imbalances prevalent in the country. It perpetuates the belief that laws and regulations apply disproportionately to the middle and lower classes, while the affluent and influential exploit their connections to bypass accountability.

While VIP culture cannot be entirely eliminated -- as protocols are essential for the security and efficiency of high-profile individuals -- there is a pressing need to delineate finite boundaries to curb its misuse. The privileges granted to VIPs should be codified and strictly enforced to prevent excesses. Measures such as reducing the size of motorcades, minimizing the number of accompanying personnel, and ensuring that public inconvenience is kept to a minimum can help strike a balance.

Furthermore, initiatives like Chief Minister Fadnavis’s decision to forgo ceremonial gestures should be encouraged for their potential to bring about a cultural shift. By eschewing ostentation, public figures can set an example of humility and accountability, thereby fostering greater trust and respect among citizens.

The debate over VIP culture also reflects deeper issues within Indian society, such as the deference often exhibited by government officials towards their political superiors. This subservience, driven by vested interests or fear of repercussions, undermines the principles of meritocracy and accountability. Reforming protocol practices should, therefore, be part of a larger effort to promote ethical governance and equitable treatment for all.

Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis’s move to end the practice of guards of honour and bouquet presentations is a commendable step in addressing the excesses of VIP culture. While critics may dismiss it as a publicity stunt, its potential to inspire a shift in public attitudes and governmental practices cannot be overlooked. Ultimately, the focus should be on balancing the legitimate needs of VIPs with the rights and convenience of ordinary citizens. By fostering a culture of humility and efficiency, India can take a significant step towards bridging the gap between its leaders and the people they serve. But does the political class have the will to do this? 

In hot seat, coach Gambhir could be Greg Chappel 2!

Raju Korti
"Success has many fathers, while defeat is an orphan." This is now particularly pertinent as the Indian cricket team battles through a difficult series in Australia, with reports of internal tensions bubbling beneath the surface and the head coach, Gautam Gambhir, finding himself at the center of mounting scrutiny.

The ongoing Border-Gavaskar Trophy has proven to be a testing ground for the Indian team, one that has struggled to find the right combination against a rampaging and aggressive Australian side. As the series headed into its must-win fifth Test in Sydney, the pressure on both the players and coaching staff has been immense. While the team’s on-field struggles are evident, a series of off-field issues are threatening to further undermine the team’s efforts.

When Gautam Gambhir was anointed as India’s coach, I had surmised that either he might be an exemplary coach or might be a disappointment given his inflexible approach. Since taking over Gambhir's role in managing an Indian team in transition has come under increasing scrutiny. While his assertive approach has been admired by some, the lack of universal confidence in the dressing room suggests that his methods may not be resonating with all players.

There are reports of growing unrest within the team, particularly regarding Gambhir’s communication style. While the previous coaching regime under Ravi Shastri and Rahul Dravid was known for fostering an open and transparent relationship with the players, Gambhir's approach appears to be less effective. According to the report, players have questioned the clarity of his communications, especially when it comes to squad selection and player management.

One of the primary points of contention has been Gambhir’s handling of squad selections. While captain Rohit Sharma has maintained that he speaks to players individually regarding selection decisions, several reports indicate that many players have been left in the dark about their exclusion from the playing XI. This lack of transparency has led to growing frustration among key players, some of whom feel uncertain about their roles within the team.

It is not altogether surprising that the situation has raised serious concerns, with one senior BCCI official remarking that Gambhir’s position as coach may come under threat if the team’s performance does not improve, particularly in the wake of the ongoing series. The fact that Gambhir has reportedly lost his temper following another batting collapse in the Melbourne Test only adds to the sense of discontent.

India’s performance in the ongoing Border-Gavaskar Trophy – especially its much-touted batting line up -- has been far from satisfactory, with the team trailing 1-2 in the series. The Indian side has struggled with batting collapses, which have hampered their ability to build a competitive score. In the fourth Test, India’s collapse in the final session of Day 5 led to a defeat by 184 runs, handing Australia an unassailable 2-1 lead. The loss has significantly dampened India's hopes of reaching a third consecutive World Test Championship final. As I write this blog, it appears to be the same familiar tale as India fights with its back to the wall.

The Indian team’s inability to perform under pressure has added to Gambhir’s frustrations. During a post-match team assessment, Gambhir reportedly lashed out at the players, urging them to take responsibility for their failures. His comments were intended to be constructive, but the underlying message was clear: the players must follow his methods and play according to the team’s needs or face the consequences.

In his address, Gambhir reportedly said, "It’s not that I’ve been silent for so long, so you should take everything for granted." This statement was understood as a veiled warning to the underperforming players that they must align with his vision moving forward or risk being sidelined.

Off-field reports further suggest that tensions are rising within the team. Some players, particularly those who are neither rookies like Harshit Rana or Nitish Reddy, nor veterans like Virat Kohli and Rohit Sharma, reportedly feel insecure due to Gambhir’s frequent experimentation with the playing XI. Shubman Gill's exclusion from the fourth Test in Melbourne is a prime example of how some selections have created confusion within the squad.

Further complicating matters is Gambhir’s reportedly strained relationship with the selection committee. Apparently, his strong plea for the inclusion of Cheteshwar Pujara, has been firmly rejected. The lack of clarity in the coach-selection committee dynamic has contributed to a sense of instability within the team, with many wondering whether the decisions made by the coach are being adequately supported by the selectors.

Compounding the pressure is the reported interest from several senior players in taking on leadership responsibilities. It has been suggested that some players are keen to step into captaincy roles, particularly when Rohit Sharma was unavailable to lead due to personal reasons. However, there is still uncertainty about whether younger players are ready for such a responsibility. These might be mere speculations but they appear credible with the current mess.

Adding fuel to the fire, reports have surfaced of leaks from within the Indian dressing room, particularly regarding Gambhir’s hard-hitting address to the team following the Boxing Day Test defeat. Dressing room sanctity is essential for any cohesive cricket team, and such leaks threaten to disrupt the focus and unity of the squad. Gambhir, however, has asserted that there were no harsh words exchanged during the meeting, and that it was simply an honest discussion aimed at improving the team's performance.

The leaking of internal team conversations not only undermines the authority of the coaching staff but also creates an environment of mistrust and insecurity among players. Such leaks are particularly damaging in high-pressure situations like the ongoing Border-Gavaskar Trophy, where mental fortitude and team unity are crucial for success.

While the team’s overall performance has been subpar, Gambhir's management style and his handling of key issues -- such as player selection, communication, and team unity -- are contributing to a growing sense of dissatisfaction within the dressing room. With the team’s performance hanging by a thread, the pressure on Gambhir and the coaching staff is immense.

The final Test in Sydney is now a must-win affair for India, not only to retain the Border-Gavaskar Trophy but also to keep their hopes alive of reaching the World Test Championship final. Gambhir, who has seen highs and lows during his tenure, will need to find a way to restore balance within the team and guide them to a crucial victory.

However, if the internal unrest continues to fester, the road ahead could be even more challenging for both the team and its head coach. The coming days will determine whether Gambhir can turn the tide or whether the cracks within the team will become too large to mend.

Gambhir maamla hai bhai!