India-US trade deal: Certainty after prolonged suspense

Raju Korti
The heart of the deal is simple. The United States cuts its tariff on Indian goods to 18 per cent from 25 per cent. India, in turn, lowers tariffs and non-tariff barriers on American goods to near zero in selected areas. India also commits to buying more American energy, farm products, technology and coal. A major irritant linked to Russian oil has been eased.

(Pic representational)

Both sides can claim a win. India gains immediate relief for its exporters. Sectors like textiles, engineering goods, chemicals and light manufacturing become more competitive in the US market. This matters at a time when global demand is weak and margins are thin.

The United States gains wider access to the Indian market. American energy firms, agri exporters and technology companies benefit. The deal also pushes India to reduce dependence on Russian oil, which aligns with Washington’s larger geopolitical goal.

In the short term, some Indian producers who face American competition may feel pressure. On the US side, domestic lobbies that dislike tariff cuts will grumble. But no major group takes a direct hit.

For India, the biggest gain is certainty. Exporters now know the tariff they face. That helps planning and pricing. The deal also signals that India is no longer stuck in trade disputes but is willing to cut deals with large partners.

Another gain is timing. This comes just after the agreement with the European Union. Together, these deals place India more firmly in global supply chains.

The US secures a stronger economic partnership with India. It also nudges India away from Russian oil without public confrontation. American exporters gain access to a large and growing market. Politically, Washington shows it can still strike bilateral deals that serve strategic goals.

The biggest irritant was energy. India’s purchase of Russian oil had drawn sharp US tariffs. This was the real tug of war. India blinked first here, though softly. It did not abandon energy security. It agreed to diversify supplies over time. The US responded by removing the extra penalty and cutting the base tariff.

Other irritants like digital taxes and market access have not vanished. They have been parked for later rounds. That itself is progress.

For the Indian economy, the effect will be gradual. Exports should get a lift. Investor confidence improves. The signal matters more than the exact tariff cut.

For stock markets, sentiment is the key word. Indian markets have been volatile for months. This deal reduces one big uncertainty. That is why futures reacted sharply. It does not guarantee a bull run, but it creates a firmer floor.

Export oriented stocks, energy logistics and manufacturing could benefit first. The wider market will follow only if earnings improve.

This deal is not the end. It is a base camp. More negotiations will follow on services, digital trade and deeper tariff cuts. If managed well, this could lead to a broader economic partnership rather than a narrow trade pact.

And for a piddly investor like me, who puts in two peanuts hoping for half a peanut, the lesson is simple. Big deals do not make you rich overnight. But they quietly improve the odds. In the stock market, that itself is no small comfort.

Our fond fascination for conspiracy theories!

Raju Korti
As expected, within hours of Ajit Pawar’s death in a plane crash near Baramati, conspiracy theories took flight faster than the ill-fated aircraft ever did. Social media sleuths, WhatsApp uncles, Telegram experts and part-time analysts all swung into action, confidently suggesting sabotage and dark hints about rivals, allies and especially leaders from his own Mahayuti camp. The official word, including that from his own uncle Sharad Pawar, that it was a clear accident was promptly treated as a minor inconvenience.

Plane wreckage site (file grab)

We Indians have a special fondness for conspiracies. We see them where there are none and miss them where they might actually exist. Nothing sells quite like a conspiracy theory. It comes with intrigue, suspense and the delicious thrill of believing that one knows something that others do not. For a sizeable section of suspicious minds, nothing ever just happens. Accidents, politics, office promotions, breakups, health scares, even bad tea at a wedding must have a hidden hand behind them.

This mindset does not discriminate. The moon landing was staged. The earth is flat. Covid-19 was manufactured. Vaccines are part of a population control plan. Climate change is a scam. Doomsday is always around the corner and the Holocaust, for some, needs fresh questioning. As if the world is incapable of producing an open and shut case.

India, of course, has its own well stocked conspiracy cupboard. Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose. Lal Bahadur Shastri. Dr Homi Bhabha. Sanjay Gandhi. Dr Shyama Prasad Mukherjee. General Bipin Rawat. The list is long and endlessly recycled. These theories thrive on familiar fuel. Government secrecy over classified files. Contradictory reports. Missing bodies. Inconclusive post-mortems. Silence where people expect drama.

In Netaji’s case, stories of survival and secret lives in distant lands refuse to die. Shastri’s sudden death in Tashkent sparked poisoning theories that still simmer. General Bipin Rawat’s helicopter crash in 2021 was quickly repackaged as foul play despite official investigations calling it an accident. Powerful leaders, it seems, are not allowed ordinary endings.

At a psychological level, conspiracy theories serve a purpose. They help people make sense of a frightening and complex world. They restore a sense of control. They offer the comfort of feeling special, informed and part of a knowing tribe. They turn vague anxieties into neat narratives with villains and motives, no matter how imaginary.

The problem is that the line between information and misinformation is now paper thin. Rumour and theory are no longer cautious cousins. They are loud, reckless twins. The media’s appetite for conspiracy is understandable. It attracts eyeballs and outrage. But the real responsibility lies with people. Applying the mind is still an option, even if it is no longer fashionable.

Sometimes, a crash is just a crash. And accepting that may be the hardest conspiracy to swallow. 

India’s biggest trade bet with Europe

Raju Korti
The India EU free trade agreement is being rightly described as a mega deal, not just for its size but for its strategic depth. At its core, an FTA is a simple idea. Countries agree to lower or remove taxes on each other’s goods and services so trade becomes cheaper, smoother and more predictable. What makes this agreement exceptional is its scope. Nearly all Indian exports to the EU will now enter with zero or near-zero tariffs, while India has opened its market wider to Europe than it ever has to any other partner.

For India, the tariff story is central. Today, Indian exporters often lose competitiveness in Europe because their products attract duties that rival suppliers do not face. With 99.5 percent of Indian export items seeing tariffs eliminated by the EU, sectors such as textiles, leather, engineering goods, pharmaceuticals, chemicals and processed foods get an immediate price advantage. In simple terms, Indian products become cheaper on European shelves without cutting margins. This directly improves export earnings and supports jobs.

On the import side, India has agreed to gradually lower tariffs on European goods, including sensitive areas like automobiles, machinery and high-end agri products. Car tariffs, for instance, will fall in stages from extremely high levels to much lower ones over several years. This phased approach matters. It gives Indian industry time to adjust, upgrade technology and become more competitive rather than facing a sudden shock. Cheaper and better-quality machinery and components will also reduce production costs for Indian manufacturers.

The broader economic impact lies in investment and supply chains. European companies are not just looking to sell to India but to manufacture here. With stable rules, tariff certainty and strong intellectual property protection, India becomes a more reliable base for global production. This fits neatly with India’s own goals of expanding manufacturing, integrating with global value chains and moving up the technology ladder.

Services and intellectual property are another quiet but crucial gain. India has long strengths in IT, finance, professional services and maritime services. Better access to the EU services market can help Indian firms scale globally. Stronger IP rules, often seen as favouring advanced economies, also help Indian innovators by protecting their ideas and brands abroad.

The agreement also reflects geopolitical realities. Europe is consciously reducing its dependence on both the US and China. India, with its large market and steady growth, is an obvious partner. For India, the deal signals credibility. Concluding the most ambitious FTA in its history tells global investors that India is open, predictable and willing to play by clear rules.

The US angle is equally important. Washington has traditionally preferred bilateral trade arrangements driven by strategic leverage rather than comprehensive FTAs. India and the US have no full-fledged FTA, partly due to disagreements on tariffs, market access and regulatory standards. In that sense, the India EU deal subtly shifts the balance. It shows India can strike deep trade agreements without aligning fully with US trade preferences. At the same time, it may push the US to rethink its trade engagement with India to avoid being edged out in a key market.

Looking ahead, this FTA is not an end but a roadmap. Its success will depend on implementation. Indian exporters must meet strict European standards on quality, safety and sustainability. Domestic industries must use the transition period to become more competitive rather than protectionist. If managed well, the deal can double trade volumes, deepen industrial capability and anchor India more firmly in the global economy.

In the long run, the India EU FTA positions India as a serious, rules-based trading power. It marks a shift from cautious openness to confident engagement. That may well be its most lasting significance.

Fury unfiltered: Outbursts, egos, and collateral damage

Raju Korti
When anger becomes a habit and not an emotion, it turns people into time-bombs. You can try to stay calm but beware the blast radius. The murder in Mumbai's suburban train and a Bengaluru couple’s deadly road rage, triggered by a minor brush with a delivery agent not long time back, -- not to speak of many such incidents -- has me dissecting the anatomy of fury.

If there’s one tribe, I go out of my way to avoid, it is the human volcanoes. The rage-prone, short-fused, loudmouths who erupt at the faintest provocation. You can sense them before they strike: stiff shoulders, restless limbs, darting eyes, and a snarl waiting to detonate. They rage at colleagues, terrorise subordinates, bully family, and pick fights with neighbours. What ignites them? Sometimes nothing at all. It is as if fury is their fuel, their fallback, their way of being. And you, the unlucky bystander, are expected to dodge the shrapnel of their barbed words and clenched fists. The Malad train stabbing fits this pattern disturbingly well, an eruption born out of a moment that demanded nothing more than patience.

(Pic representational)

Anger is a tricky emotion. At its mildest, it is a frown. At its worst, it’s a hurricane that knocks down relationships, jobs, and reputations. Biologically, it is a rush. Adrenaline surges, blood pressure spikes, heart races, fists clench. But when that rage is constant, chronic, and unchecked, it becomes corrosive. I am no shrink, but I have seen enough to know that most angry people aren’t really angry at you. They are wrestling their own demons: unhealed wounds, control issues, deep-seated insecurities. Add to this job frustration, financial insecurity, collapsing careers, failed relationships, loneliness, social comparison, unfulfilled ambition, substance abuse, and the quiet shame of perceived failure in life. The pent-up frustration often finds release not in words, but in fury, sometimes spilling into crimes like the one on that railway platform.

I used to think age mellows people, makes them less reactive and more reflective. I was wrong. Some grow old without ever growing up. I have had my share of angry episodes too. Who hasn’t? But over time, I have learned that letting fury speak for you is a one-way ticket to regret. One vicious outburst can wipe out years of goodwill. Sure, you may apologise later, but trust once broken doesn’t glue back easily. The damage is often irreparable. Sometimes, the only choice is to walk away. Let them stew in their own bile. They don’t deserve front-row seats in your life. Sadly, the young lecturer in Malad never got that choice.

What angers us may be circumstantial, but how we respond is deeply personal. You can’t always escape the triggers. Maybe it’s a toxic boss, a manipulative partner, or just the unbearable traffic. Or a crowded train, or a congested road, like in Bengaluru where a couple’s road rage ended in murder after a minor altercation. But you can choose to disarm your reaction. Meditation helps. So does physical activity. Even a ten-second pause before you lash out can save the moment. And let’s not pretend that bottled-up anger is any nobler. It ferments into bitterness and blindsides you at the worst time. Vent it, but wisely. Scream into a pillow if you must, not at a person.

What fascinates me is the psychology behind chronic anger. It often stems from a fragile ego, from people who believe the world owes them, who see disagreement as threat and discomfort as injustice. They externalise everything. Blame others, control environments, resist introspection. They see patience as weakness and ambiguity as failure. I call them the emotionally entitled. And anger is their armour. Problem is, no one wants to hug a cactus.

In the end, managing anger is less about self-help and more about self-respect. It's about recognising that no matter the trigger, you are accountable for the impact. Yes, anger is human. But left unbridled, it hijacks your dignity, relationships, and peace of mind. Perhaps it is time anger management stopped being an afterthought and became part of everyday learning, taught at homes, reinforced in educational institutions, acknowledged at workplaces, and addressed in public spaces where pressures collide. So, control anger before it controls you. Easier said than done, but try we must. And the counsellor in me comes to the fore as moderator. No small mercy that.

Mates & checkmates on the Gaza chess board!

Raju Korti
When I first examined the Board of Peace proposal, I saw an idea that reflects both ambition and unresolved tension. At its core, the board is meant to shepherd Gaza’s fragile ceasefire into a durable peace by overseeing disarmament of Hamas, reconstruction of civil society, establishment of governance structures, and deployment of an international security force. The United Nations Security Council endorsed a temporary mandate for it through 2027, but the initiative is clearly shaped in the image of its chief architect, President Donald Trump, who will chair the board and call many of the shots.

The first question that jumps out is simple: who supports this effort and why? Countries like Hungary and Vietnam have already accepted invitations to serve as founding members, while others such as Argentina, Egypt, Kazakhstan, Canada, Turkey, Jordan and Albania are reported to have been invited and, in some cases, have indicated participation. India has received an invitation as well and will decide after internal consultation. The fact that invitations have gone out to about 60 nations, including Greece, Pakistan, and Cyprus, shows the US desire to present this as a wide, inclusive undertaking.

At the same time, several major players have expressed reservations or declined outright. France, under President Emmanuel Macron, has declined the invitation, voicing concerns that the board’s charter goes beyond a Gaza focus and could undercut the United Nations’ role in global peace architecture. Other traditional US allies in Europe are “weighing” their positions carefully, with Germany consulting EU partners before committing. The United Kingdom, Australia, Brazil and others have been invited but are studying the proposal and its implications before signalling full support.

In this unfolding geography of support and hesitation, the stakes for each country vary. For the United States, the board is not just about ending violence in Gaza; it is an attempt to reshape multilateral peace efforts around a new institutional form that places Washington, and Trump in particular, at its centre. Critics argue that this could weaken the UN’s traditional peace-making role because the board’s powers and wide mandate appear to extend beyond just Gaza.

For India, an invitation represents diplomatic balancing: New Delhi can engage in an initiative aimed at peace and reconstruction while navigating its own ties with key partners. India’s strategic interest in the Middle East, including energy and diaspora concerns, means participation could bolster its global profile if handled carefully. Russia’s reaction is more cautious; Moscow has acknowledged it has received an invitation and is assessing the “nuances” of the proposal, mindful of its own geopolitical rivalry with the U.S. and its war in Ukraine.

The position of Israel, arguably the most directly affected state, is complicated and perhaps the most telling. On one level, Israel’s government was invited to be part of the board. Yet the response from Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has been critical, particularly of the board’s composition, which includes countries like Turkey and Qatar that Israel views with deep suspicion. Netanyahu emphasised that this initiative was not coordinated with Israel and runs contrary to its policy positions. At home, hardline figures like the finance minister have rejected the board outright, favouring military action against Hamas instead.

This is where Israel’s misgivings with the United States emerge most vividly. The two allies, long aligned on security issues, are at odds about the role of third-party international actors in Gaza’s future. While the U.S. pushes a multilateral reconstruction and oversight mechanism, Israel fears that such a board could dilute its security prerogatives and legitimacy in the eyes of Arab and Muslim states. Publicly, the U.S. underscores the board’s peace goals; privately, Israeli leaders have signalled discomfort with external actors who have historically supported Hamas or are hostile to Israeli strategic interests.

Beyond these headline dynamics, there are deeper peripheral issues that any serious analysis must acknowledge. First, the board’s financing model, which reportedly offers permanent membership in return for contributions of at least $1 billion, raises concerns about equity and influence. Wealthier states could dominate decision-making, while poorer countries may be relegated to short terms with limited impact. Second, the absence of Palestinian representatives in initial governance discussions, according to some reports, fuels criticism that the board risks making decisions about Gaza without adequately involving those whom its decisions will affect most. Finally, the very context in which this board arises, a fragile ceasefire amid ongoing humanitarian crisis, means that any institutional body will be tested by the realities on the ground: food insecurity, displacement, fractured governance, and deep mistrust among the parties.

So what holds out for this proposed peace board? Its strength lies in its ambition to combine political, security and reconstruction efforts in a single forum. If widely supported and well-funded, it could offer a coherent platform to coordinate ceasefire enforcement, peacebuilding and economic recovery in Gaza.

But workability remains uncertain. The divergent interests of participating states, the burden of financing, the lack of clarity on its legal authority vis-à-vis the United Nations, and the unresolved tension between Israel and key members all pose real challenges. Participation from polarised actors like Pakistan and Turkey may complicate consensus, even as invitations to states like India and Canada indicate broad diplomatic interest.

In the final analysis, the Board of Peace sits at the intersection of aspiration and realpolitik. It embodies the desire for a new approach to conflict resolution in one of the most intractable disputes of our time. Yet its future will be determined less by its lofty goals and more by the willingness of major powers to reconcile their strategic calculations with the urgent needs of the people in Gaza. 

लोकांची न संपणारी क्रूर चेष्टा

राजू कोर्ती   
लोकशाही म्हणजे लोकांची सत्ता, असे आपण अजूनही अभिमानाने उच्चारतो. पण आरसा समोर धरला तर दिसते ती सत्तेची नाही, तर लोकांच्या हतबलतेची विदारक कहाणी. ज्यांच्या नावावर सत्ता उभी आहे, तेच लोक आज सर्वात जास्त फसवले जात आहेत, हे कटू सत्य स्वीकारायला आपण तयार नाही. ही चेष्टा साधी नाही, ही क्रूर चेष्टा आहे.

ह्यांचे आमदार त्यांच्या संपर्कात, त्यांचे खासदार ह्यांच्या संपर्कात, नगरसेवकांची फोन डायरी म्हणजे सत्तेची अदलाबदल करणारे चलन झाले आहे. प्रत्येक पाऊल राजकीय खेळीच असायला हवे का? माणूस म्हणून, विचारधारा म्हणून, तत्त्व म्हणून काहीच उरले नाही का? मग ज्याला तुम्ही कालपर्यंत छातीठोकपणे आयडिओलॉजी म्हणत होता, ती आज इतक्या सहजपणे कशी विसरता येते? आणि त्याहून धक्कादायक म्हणजे, ती विसरलेली गोष्ट लोकांसमोर निर्लज्जपणे कशी मिरवता येते?

मी माझ्या ४५ वर्षाच्या कारकीर्दीत अनेक स्तरावरच्या निवडणुका आणि शेकडो राजकीय घडामोडी कव्हर केल्या पण इतकी दारुण अवस्था कधीच बघितली नाही. पंचेचाळीस वर्षे निवडणुका, सत्तांतर, उठाठेव पाहिल्यानंतर हे स्पष्ट झाले आहे की राजकारणात चांगले आणि वाईट लोक सगळ्याच पक्षांत होते आणि आहेत. पण पूर्वी किमान मनाची तरी लाज होती. शब्दांना किंमत होती. आज ती लाजही संपली आहे. आता फक्त सोयीची तत्त्वे आणि गरजेपुरती विचारधारा. कमरेचेच नव्हे तर डोक्यालाही गुंडाळायचे सोडून दिले आहे. गुंडाळायचे असते ते फक्त लोकांना.

लोकप्रतिनिधी नावाचा शब्दच आता विनोद ठरतो आहे. ज्याला आपण मत देतो, तो दुसऱ्याच दिवशी आपल्याला कवडीमोल समजून पूर्णपणे विरोधी विचारधारेच्या पक्षात प्रवेश करतो. ह्याला ‘राजकीय चाल’, ‘रणनीती’, ‘खेळी’ असे गोंडस शब्द लावले जातात. प्रत्यक्षात ही उघड गद्दारी असते, पण तिच्यावर शब्दांचा मुलामा चढवून लोकांच्या डोळ्यात धूळफेक केली जाते. पक्ष गेले खड्ड्यात, विचारधारा गेली खड्ड्यात. उरते ते फक्त सत्ता.

आणि मग तयार होते दुचाकी, तीनचाकी, कधी ट्रकभर बहुमताचे सरकार. लोकांची कामे करणे हा त्यांचा उद्देश नसतोच. सगळी ऊर्जा, सगळी तथाकथित हुशारी सत्ता टिकवून ठेवण्यात खर्ची घातली जाते. सामान्य माणसाचे प्रश्न, त्याचे दुःख, त्याची घुसमट ही फक्त निवडणुकीपुरती घोषणाबाजी. मतदान झाल्यावर लोक म्हणजे ओझे.

ज्यांच्या शब्दकोशात प्रामाणिकपणा खिजगणतीतही नाही, तेच लोक मोठ्या आवाजात लोकांना मतदानाचे धडे देतात. “लोकशाही मजबूत करा” असे सांगतात. पण लोकांची जबाबदारी फक्त त्यांच्या तुंबड्या भरण्याची आहे का? त्यांच्या निर्लज्ज थेरांचे प्रेक्षक बनण्याची आहे का? लोकशाही हा शब्दच इतका झिजला आहे की तो उच्चारताना उपहास वाटतो.

या सगळ्यात सर्वात मोठा मूर्ख कोण ठरतो? तो मूर्ख म्हणजे आपण. आतल्या गोटात काय शिजते आहे, हे जाणून घेण्याचीही गरज न वाटणारा, सगळे गिळून टाकणारा, आणि तरीही दर पाच वर्षांनी आशेने उभा राहणारा सामान्य नागरिक. दुर्दैव असे की बहुसंख्य लोकांना आपण फसवले जातोय, हेही कळत नाही. आणि ज्यांना कळते, ते मतदानापासून दूर का जातात, याचे उत्तर सत्ताधाऱ्यांना जाणून घ्यायची इच्छाच नसते.

हे विदारक दृश्य कधी बदलेल? की आपण फक्त आशेवर जगायचे आणि आशेवरच मरायचे? प्रश्न विचारणारा माणूस आज संशयास्पद ठरतो, आणि निर्लज्जपणाला शहाणपणाचे लेबल लावले जाते. ही लोकशाहीची शोकांतिका नाही, तर लोकांच्या संयमाची परीक्षा आहे.

जोपर्यंत लोक स्वतःला फक्त मतदार नव्हे तर नागरिक समजणार नाहीत, तोपर्यंत ही क्रूर चेष्टा थांबणार नाही. सत्तेच्या खुर्च्या बदलतील, चेहरे बदलतील, पक्ष बदलतील. बदलणार नाही ती लोकांची हतबलता. आणि हीच या सगळ्याची सर्वात मोठी, सर्वात भीषण शोकांतिका आहे.

Of A R Rahman, communal bias; and sour notes of self pity!

Raju Korti
Ask anyone if they know a composer called Dileep Kumar Rajagopala and you will mostly get blank stares. Rename him A R Rahman and recognition arrives instantly. Awards tumble out of his biography with impressive regularity: Grammys, a Golden Globe, a BAFTA, National Awards, and global adulation. Yet awards, especially in a fickle and self-serving film industry, are not certificates of greatness. To critics like me, they often mask mediocrity elevated by timing, marketing, and hype.

After minting money and fame, Rahman now claims that work has dried up because of his Muslim identity, carefully wrapped in the euphemism of a “communal thing.” This is not only a convenient alibi but also a deeply irresponsible one. The Hindi film industry has always thrived on vested interests, shifting tastes, and brutal commercial logic. It has never survived, or collapsed, on the basis of religion.

Rahman: Discordant notes.

The truth is far simpler and far more uncomfortable. Rahman is an abysmally poor composer who rode a brief wave of novelty. His music, once labelled experimental, soon hardened into predictable noise. That he won awards does not elevate the work. It only confirms how shallow and trend-driven the ecosystem has become.

What Rahman seems to have forgotten is the long and luminous line of Muslim artistes who shaped this very industry without ever crying persecution when the spotlight moved away. Mohammed Rafi remains the most glaring example. A singing genius, he ruled unchallenged for years and then gracefully accepted his partial eclipse by Kishore Kumar after Aradhana and the Rajesh Khanna phenomenon. Rafi acknowledged success without resentment and failure without bitterness.

I vividly remember a function where Naushad, the doyen of composers and a man wedded to Hindustani classical music till his last breath, spoke to Bal Thackeray about Rahman’s jazzy brand of music. I was present when Naushad expressed his displeasure, not with malice but with concern for musical standards. Thackeray, then still accessible and alert, abruptly rose and asked who this upstart called Rahman was. The moment was telling. Respect in the industry was earned through depth, not decibels.

Consider Dilip Kumar, born Yusuf Khan, the first Khan superstar and the finest actor among the trinity of Raj Kapoor, Dev Anand, and himself. He was a regular visitor at Bal Thackeray’s residence, sharing drinks and spiced peanuts prepared by Thackeray’s wife. Later, Thackeray publicly thundered that Yusuf should be packed off to Pakistan. Yet Dilip Kumar never once claimed that his career was sabotaged because of his faith. He let his work speak and history judge.

Sahir Ludhianvi was an avowed atheist. Meena Kumari, born Mahjabeen Bano, convincingly played Hindu daughters-in-law without ever complaining about roles that contradicted her religion. Talat Mehmood, Sajjad Hussain, Ghulam Haider, Ghulam Mohammed, A R Kardar, Johnny Walker (born Qazi Badruddin), and countless others lived and created in perfect cultural harmony. Religion was never a bar to creativity, nor an excuse for decline. On the contrary, Dilip Kumar, Meena Kumari, Madhubala, Ajit, Jagdeep, Shyama, Jayant, Nimmi, Sanjay (the list is long) adopted Hindu names to etch themselves in the profession. Ironically, the refrain I used to hear then was Muslim and Christian professionals capitalised on Hindu names.  

Rahman’s so-called creativity, even at its best, sounds worse than the mediocre cacophony flooding today’s soundscape. Many purists dismissed his work as a passing fad, a novelty that aged badly. Roja, Bombay, Rangeela, and even Slumdog Millionaire were ordinary products of their time, inflated by marketing and global curiosity. If those are hailed as milestones, one wonders what vocabulary remains for genuine musical greatness. The golden period of Hindi film music, by and large, ended in the nineties, and Rahman did little to resurrect it.

If Rahman truly believes he is out of work, introspection would serve him better than provocation. Playing the victim green card reeks of ingratitude. He amassed wealth and acclaim as A R Rahman, not as Dileep Rajagopala. To now hint that the same society conspired against him is both childish and disingenuous. Small wonder that his remarks have drawn flak from all quarters, including lyricist Javed Akhtar of his own era.

The film industry has one immutable rule: every dog has his day. Some enjoy long summers, some brief winters, and some never see daylight. Rahman had his place under the sun. In an industry where values rise and vanish overnight, he must either accept that his time has waned or work harder to justify a revival. Until then, he can gaze at his awards cabinet and draw whatever solace he can from the trophies of yesterday.