Monsterizing Omicron

Raju Korti
I have been watching with mild amusement all the hype and hoopla surrounding the new Covid variant called Omicron. Supposed to have originated in South Africa, it has already started making people paranoiac knowing next to nothing about it.

For all those pressing panic buttons and jumping the gun on the new enigma, there is little research available yet. It is highly presumptuous to declare something that is highly virulent as downright fatal. It is nitwittedness to create fear-mongering when an ignorant majority is fed with such baseless tripe when there is little to show -- so far -- that Omicron being highly contagious is also a confirmed killer. In line with its preposterous approach on the Covid mutations, the World Health Organization (WHO) has taken a lead in spreading this panic. There is a difference between cautioning people and putting a fear of death in them.

Admittedly, reports have it that the new variant has been spreading alarmingly in South Africa with over 10,000 cases but the WHO concerns are only in the realms of conjecture. It is clueless, at least as of now, whether Omicron is more transmissible or causes more severe health issues compared to other variants including the Delta. There is currently no information to suggest that symptoms associated with Omicron are different from other variants.       

The advent of Covid 22 months back seems to have spawned a new breed of experts whose opinions and surmises are at times diametrically opposite and sometimes bordering on hope. The world need neither. What it needs is authentic study and research beyond specious assumptions since Covid mutations have not followed the beaten path. It is irrational and absurd to draw conclusions when you are dealing with an unknown enemy.

The rising cases in South Africa could be due to increasing overall numbers of people becoming infected rather than a result of a specific infection of Omicron. Understanding the severity of Omicron infection may take weeks. By WHO's own admission, there have been no reported deaths due to Omicron since it was detected in the second week of November.

So stop this morbidity. Beware of those bored with life. They will find mutations of excuses for not living. There are bigger killers around us that we have braved than to lose sleep over Omicron.

By the way, the word 'monsterizing' is my own creation.

Humour has become a cheap medicine

Raju Korti
It is both amusing and disconcerting to see how a 'joke' quickly degenerates into a matter of national debate. If you are wondering why I have put this contentious word in a single quote, it is because jokes mean different things to different people in different situations. Maybe it is time to redefine, or better still, put a finger on the word.

Notably, in the last decade, joke, humour, comedy or by any other name you call it, has meandered through cultural ferment. We have a new breed called stand-up comedians, whatever that means, who believe they have packaged and merchandised a new genre of humour. It has tickled few and offended many. Amusement and laughter now come with an outrage and disgust. In simple words, humour is no laughing matter when it loses its funny bone.

Do we have a sense of humour at all? Maybe we have, maybe we don't. The boundaries of humour are defined by the people who look at it from their personal prism and school of thought. Humour doesn't have a nationality, only feelings. Why blame Indians when people elsewhere have a similarly tangled relationship with humour and comedy?

From gaffes, gags and mimicry and community targeting in Bollywood stereotypes, jokes have climbed on to body-shaming, religious, casteist, slapstick, sexist and gross. People cackle or howl at them from their vantage points. The media in its various avtars leads the show awash with profanities and with one eye askance on TRPs. The fire is fueled by individuals who grab eyeballs and attention to make a living. My grouse is not about the humour per se but about the quality of humour itself.

I personally believe that humour should be harmless. It should bring a smile to even those on whom the joke is intended. "Jokes" coming from the bilious create more affront than humour. It would be unreasonable to expect people to take them in stride. Majority people in my experience who were chivalrous when poking fun at others were not so charitably disposed when treated in the same vein. Humour and people have double standards. I am no exception.

Religion, caste, gender and social standing are the new barometers of joke in a country where people are jealously touchy about them. The very thought of building humour around them and expecting them to be applauded is stupid, if not intolerant. It is not a battle between the intolerant and liberal. To all those who make intelligence about "Indian humour", there is nothing national or international about it. Humour is humour wherever. Similarly, it has no Left or Right wing. For the record I have neither appreciated not revolted of any joke. It is little skin off my nose. My reaction is a few seconds of pity and move on.  

Either you understand and appreciate a joke or you don't. There are no middle paths. And that's what I exactly mean when I say that comedy and offence complement each other and how!

No laughing matter for Sidhu

Raju Korti

If there ever were to be an award for misplaced bravado, Navjot Singh Sidhu would be one of its top contenders. His track record in all the spheres he has been into amply showcases his talent for either running into trouble or for stirring it. His bitter, long drawn ego war with the recently resigned chief minister Capt Amrinder Singh bears it out. While he may derive pleasure from the oneupmanship that saw Capt Amrinder being edged out of the hot seat, he apparently has had little to gain. The stung chief minister has vowed he will do everything within his means to ensure Sidhu doesn't get to ascend the CM's throne.

Sidhu's turbulent course in politics shows the man has learnt precious little from his wacky experiments. When he joined politics after losing his place in the national side to join the BJP, riding on the Modi wave, I had predicted that he may not find it easy on the new turf. In the two-plus years that he was in the BJP, the latter's leaders, more wily and seasoned than the cricketer, yorked him into a persona non grata. Just like what it did to Shatrughan Sinha. But Sidhu, always ready to tread where angels fear to tread, continued with his dissenting habits. Shatrughan realized sensibly he had nowhere to go. The BJP did not throw him out for his indiscreet utterances but Shatrughan wised up to the fact that if he quit the party, he would have to be content with a diminished status elsewhere.

I am sure the Congress High Command in its depleted condition must have found it tough to cater to Sidhu's militant ways because it would be fishing in troubled water anywhichways -- whether they asked Capt Amrinder to step down or asked Sidhu to (or his proxy) to take charge. Punjab, as among the few congress-ruled states is now cutting a sorry figure because of Sidhu's antics. But then the Sardar who has donned multiple hats in the course of his meandering career, is not coming to terms that playing on cricketing turf is one thing and playing on political wicket is quite another.

I bumped into Sidhu sometime during the 1987 World Cup. As I sauntered to the pitch where the Indian team was practicing, I saw him joking around and pulling the leg of a few enthusiastic teenagers. He came across as a jovial person who could laugh at the drop of a hat -- a quality that he monetized so well with his laughter at The Great India Laughter Challenge. His easy mannered approach endeared him to the people around and no one had any inkling that there was a rebel lurking in him. In his cricketing career, he did fairly well for himself in both the longer and shorter versions of the game. After being labelled as a "stroke-less wonder" he brought some zest to his batting to emerge as a "Palm Grove Hitter". It was an epiphany that changed his life and he responded to that criticism by metamorphosing into an aggressive batsman.

I have a reason to believe that Sidhu imbibed this aggressive spirit and carried it where it wasn't needed. I wasn't farther from the truth when he turned into a television commentator, often coming out with one-liners that bordered somewhere between offensive and funny.  His commentary, hailed as 'Sidhuism', was just the fuel his rhetoric needed. After an unseemly row, Star India put him in the soup for breaching his contract. During one of the matches he was commentating, his fellow commentator, the Kiwi star batsman Martin Crowe told me the delight he took in rubbing Sidhu the wrong way. In his perpetual high, Sidhu never realized that he was being subjected to leg pull.

His exuberant side came to the fore on the same small screen when he along with Shekhar Suman judged the laughter show. Sidhu became a laughing stock himself as he would start laughing even before the contestant completed his joke. Although he knew he was being panned for the needless mirth, there was no let up with Sidhu who at times would erupt into a laughter even before a contestant got on to the stage. He never missed dates with controversies. On the Kapil Sharma show he made a pro-Pakistan statement that raised the hackles of people. His proclivities with Pakistan army chief Gen Bajwa came in for heavy flak but Sidhu being Sidhu, couldn't care less.

It was obvious that Sidhu got Rajya Sabha nomination only to be pre-empted from joining the Aam Aadmi Party. Having stuck out with the Congress, he is now at the crossroads once again, as he has been umpteen number of times before in different phases of his changing careers. The only time he was lucky to get away was when he was accused of complicity in a homicide case.

To his chagrin, Sidhu finds that while he could pressure Capt Sidhu in resigning, he hasn't succeeded in attaining his larger objective -- of installing his own lackey as the CM. Now he has had to resign with a desperate-sounding statement that he will continue to serve the Congress party. He has no option. The other parties, having seen enough of his hyperbole and balderdash, will not touch him with a bargepole. By all accounts the new CM of Punjab Charanjit Singh Channi has put paid to his plans in spite of all the lip service to the former cricketer. The man doesn't realize that he has been snubbed strongly by the very party he keeps singing praises of.

In one of my earlier blogs I had predicted that this man had a penchant to become a persona non grata wherever he goes. Now, as his bete noire Capt Amrinder says, "he is also unstable."

वडापाव आणि त्याचे जागतिकीकरण

राजू कोरती

कोण्या एकेकाळी मुंबईतील सर्वसामान्य गिरणी कामगाराचे खाद्य समजले जाणाऱ्या वडापावने आज बरीच मजल मारली आहे. ज्याला मुंबईकर कौतुकाने बॉम्बे बर्गर असे संबोधतात त्या वडापावला जरी अनन्यसाधारण महत्व प्राप्त झाले असले तरीही त्याला जागतिक दर्जा कोणी आणि केंव्हा दिला ह्यासंबंधी कसली ही माहिती उपलब्ध नाही. अर्थातच काही अतिउत्साही लोकांनी वडापाव विदेशात पण भारतीय आवडीनं खातात म्हणून त्याचा जागतिक पातळीवर उदो उदो केला असावा. ह्यात खरे तर आक्षेपार्ह असे काहीच नाही. मुंबईकरांसाठी वडापाव हा केवळ पोट भरण्याचा खाद्यपदार्थ नसून एक खोलवर रुजलेली भावना आहे. वडापाव बरोबर त्यांचे एक भावनिक नाते आहे,"
. 

जागतिक वडापावच्या निमित्ताने बऱ्याच वडापाव प्रेमींनी तर सामाजिक माध्यमातून "वडापाव महात्म्य, वडापाव चालिसा" व इतर तत्सम स्तोत्र रचुन त्याचा यथोचित गौरव केला. मात्र समाजातील तळागाळापासून ते श्रीमंतापर्यंत सगळे वडापावचे आस्वाद घेणारे असल्यामुळे हा महाराष्ट्रातील, खास करून मुंबईतील लोकांसाठी. सर्वधर्मसमभाव आहे. वडापाव जातपात, धर्म बघत नाही. तो खऱ्या अर्थाने 'सेक्युलर' आहे आणि म्हणूनच त्याचा जोड फेविकॉल पेक्षाही मजबूत आहे.

संशोधनाअंती लक्षात येईल की वडापावला तसा फारसा मोठा इतिहास नाही. दादर येथिल अशोक वैद्य आणि सुधाकर म्हात्रे ह्यांनी हा उपक्रम १९६६ मध्ये सुरू केला. तेंव्हा या जोडगोळीला पुसटशीही कल्पना नसणार की ५० वर्षानंतर वडापाव आणि त्यासोबत मिळणारी लाल लसणाची चटणी हे साता समुद्रा पलीकडे छलांग मारून आपले एक स्वतःचे प्रस्थ निर्माण करतील. आज वडापावने इतर राज्यामध्ये ही आपली लोकप्रिय घोडदौड चालू ठेवली आहे.

बहुतांश वडापाववाले आज खोऱ्याने पैसा ओढताहेत. त्यांच्या अवताराकडे बघू नका. सरासरी रोजचे १०,००० ते २५,००० चा गल्ला असतो. मला वाटते कुठे तरी सरकारने ह्याची दखल घेउन वडापावला आपला ब्रँड ambassador खाद्यपदार्थ बनवायचे मनावर घ्यायला हवे. हे फारसे कठीण नाही. वडापाव मध्ये थेट परकीय गुंतवणूक करण्याचे मनोगत सरकारने व्यक्त करायची खोटी की विदेशी निवेशकांची रीघ लागेल. विदेशी चलनाची तूट भरून काढता येईल. आणि हे जेंव्हा होईल तेंव्हाच खऱ्या अर्थाने वडापावचे जागतिकीकरण होईल.

धंदा, भांडवल व लोकभावनेची सांगड घालून वडापाव जगाच्या प्रत्येक देशात आपला ठसा उमटवू तर शकेलच, शिवाय तेथील बर्गर संस्कृती वर देखील मात करू शकेल. देशात सध्या स्वदेशीवर भर देण्यात येत आहे. स्वदेशी जागरण मंच व तत्सम संस्था ह्यात मोलाचा पुढाकार घेऊ शकतात. मात्र वर्षातील केवळ एक दिवस वडापावाचे गुणगान करून भागणार नाही. सध्या तरी काही भारतीय विदेशात वडापाव विकताहेत आणि त्याला मागणी पण बऱ्यापैकी आहे असे समजते पण त्याला अजून चालना देण्याची गरज आहे.

वडापावचे जागतिक ब्रँडिंग करायची धुरा मी खांद्यावर घेण्यास तयार आहे. त्या संदर्भात अनेक कल्पना माझ्या मनात घोंगावतायत. दुर्दैवाने त्यांना सध्या तरी कोणी वाली नाहीये. त्यामुळे इंग्रजीतील Charity begins at home ह्या उक्ती प्रमाणे मी सुरवात रोज स्वतः दोन वडापाव खाउन करू शकतो. 

वाजली तर पुंगी नाही तर वडापाव! 

Of predictable fatwas and Russian footprints in Afghanistan.

Raju Korti
Having watched all the ferment in the land-locked country ever since the Soviets occupied it end 1979, I have come to the conclusion that Afghanistan continues and will continue to run around in circles. The plot has moved along predictable lines. The much coined Taliban 2.0 is not going to be any different from the Taliban 1.0. When you are talking of a medieval mindset that harks you back to more than 1500 years, the entire discourse refuses to change one bit.

A lot many commentators have let their imagination go on a cruise trying to make out a case that the violent outfit appears to be softening as it assumes control but the steadfast submission to the Sharia leaves them with no room for flexibility. The so called press conference that its apparently rational sounding elements took was an eyewash. Their accommodation for what is being sought to be conveyed as a meltdown from its earlier primitive posturing has come a cropper. Developments in the last couple of days is perhaps just a trailer of the bigger picture that is inevitably set to unfold.

Later than sooner, the first edict is out. After talking tall about women's rights, the Taliban has taken its first somersault, banning co-education in universities because it is the "root of all evils in the society". It also wants "virtuous female lecturers would be allowed to teach only female students, not the male ones. That should make you wonder who is that Taliban doesn't trust -- men or women. Beyond all that lip service, the Taliban has dropped enough hints that women are only meant to lie under men's bodies and cater to their baser instincts. Mind you, they are their own women! If they are going to kill women indiscriminately for not obeying their diktats, who the hell would they be left with to carry out their brutal legacy? With women hiding behind their veils and faced with relentless despotism, it is effectively the end of education for women. Expect more such oppressive fatwas in the time to come.

While nothing that the Taliban has done or gone about has any element of surprise, it is slightly unexpected that the Russians appear to have taken in their stride the Taliban resurgence. The Russian diplomats believe the people in charge as 'normal guys" and Afghanistan is safer than ever before. This is obviously a take off on Moscow's new stance that the take-over in Afghanistan is a reality that they must attune to. It is a complete anti-thesis of what all it did during its occupation of Kabul to prop up a Communist regime.

While the western countries have frantically tried to evacuate its people and embassies, Russia has chosen to stay put with a certificate that clears Taliban of any reprisals. In fact going one step further, the Putin dispensation sees a bright future of national reconciliation that spells end to political uncertainty and bloodshed. Putin's special envoy to Afghanistan opened the doors to a new equation saying the Taliban as being easier to negotiate than with the old puppet regime of the now exiled President Ashraf Ghani. Just as the NATO found it incompatible to deal with the puppet government the erstwhile Soviets had installed before they chose to exit the theatre.

Somewhere in this change of heart, where Moscow has preferred to use the term "radicals" instead of addressing the Taliban as "terrorists",it has not rushed to recognize Taliban as rulers. It has been trying to build bridges with the Taliban in the last three years in an obvious diversion from its earlier foreign policy. That hasn't gone down well with the West. Looked at from the ground reality, the West and the Communists have changed postures but in terms of their hostile posturing, everything is status quo. In the new algorithm Russia is indicating that while it is ready to come to terms with the mutations in Afghanistan, it is not ready yet to throw full dice, preferring the picture to emerge clearer.        

There is a plausible reason to understand why the Russians have been resilient. It visualizes no military role for itself after realizing that the war it fought in the 80s was futile. They miscalculated the wages of the 1979 invasion. It cost them over nine years and 20,000 army men to prop up a regime besides turning into an international pariah. The Soviet economy just couldn't hold on, nor could its states that were destined to balkanize. The exit was unceremonious and Afghanistan went from frying pan into the fire. My gut feeling is the Russians didn't anticipate the Taliban's sweep to the power and is making just those initial noises. I will not be surprised if they are biding time until they find out the real shape of things to come. As new rulers, Taliban doesn't leave much room except for some speculation.

That brings me to the basic question. Do the Talibanese have any ideas about governance beyond the  setting up of a Caliphate? At the cost of hazarding a guess, I think not. They may impose the Sharia that has limited takers in the present matrix. That will not work in the longer run if they have any thoughts about salvaging their ruined economy or if they want to acquire some leeway on the international negotiating tables. While there are reports that the Northern Alliance is rolling up sleeves again to fight the Taliban in their own backyard, the latter has a lot of hard work to do.

The war and strife are far from over. It could well be the beginning of even more hazardous times for Afghanistan. 

From Afghanistan, gone with the medals

Raju Korti
You don't have to be an officer in the army to know how touchy he is about the medals on his uniform. Beyond decoration, they are badges of honours that they flaunt on their swollen chests. There is a message loud and clear that these medals convey: Give me enough medals and I will win you any war.
But look at the picture accompanying this blog. It is of Field Marshal Abdul Rashid Dostum of the Afghan National Army who rose from a politician to become Commander in the Communist government during Soviet-Afghan war. You will wonder whether Dostum is wearing those medals or the medals are wearing Dostum.  

The key indigenous ally to the American special forces and the CIA during the campaign to topple the Taliban government, he was one of the most powerful and notorious warlords since the beginning of the Afghan wars. This opportunistic turncoat who conveniently chose to side with winners after every war in Afghanistan has now fled to Uzbekistan -- with all his medals. With Taliban catching up, Dostum knows that any further act masquerading as a brave marshal would end up with a Taliban bullet drilling a hole somewhere between those very medals he has been flaunting all these years.

A warrior should be defined by his scars, not his medals. I have seen pictures of a North Korean General with medals almost hanging down to his boots. When you get more medals than Captain America and Rambo put together without having even one active ground war, you look like a towering absurdity. Field Marshal Dostum deserves a honorable mention in that elite gallery. To be fair to Dostum, he has had a fair reputation, defeating Mujahideen commanders in northern Afghanistan and even persuading some to defect to the Communist cause. Although these were a slightly enhanced version of gangster fights, they earned him quick promotions. As someone who followed the tumult in Afghanistan regularly, I remember then President Mohammad Najibullah calling him a 'Hero of Afghanistan.' Najibullah didn't survive long and was found dead hanging to a wooden pole in the thick of the smoke that was rapidly engulfing the ravaged country.

From playing a pivotal role in the overthrow of the very man who called him a hero to joining hands with the new Burhanuddin Rabbani government, from partnering the Northern Alliance to shaking hands with Hamid Karzai he rapidly changed colours. When the going got tough, this 'tough' army chief chose to take a quick powder and flee Afghanistan when the Taliban over-ran Mazaar-I-Sharif. So Dostum is not a new hand at bolting from the country. This should be his second and probably the final exit as he knows the Taliban will not be charitably disposed any more.

For all of his six feet beefy structure, the bushy mustache and the number of medals decorating his camouflage Soviet-style military uniform, Dostum's CV though exciting and interesting, is diluted by his rank opportunism and his penchant to vanish when things got hot for him. That casts aspersions on all those medals glittering on his coat. There are no scars behind those medals. As journalist friend Prashant Hamine points out: "Looks like he got those medals from Mumbai's Chor Bazaar. They look like a collection of soft drink bottle caps."

Well, the fizz has gone. Only the 'dhakkans' remain.

Confessions of a rejection-softened man

Raju Korti
I have often been told that most fears of rejection rest on the desire of approval from other people and your self-esteem should not become casualty of how others view you. For all the hype and cosmetic coming from Teflon-coated tongues on the positives of rejection, I stand committed to my conviction: Rejection feels lousy and seriously dents one's sense of oneself.

As someone who has encountered rejection at all levels in the arduous course of my professional career and personal relationships, I have veered round to the conclusion that my life has been consumed by rejection. Trust me. it is psychologically debilitating, although I have kept trying my best for course corrections. It is what many people describe synonymously as destiny. Rejections are destined to happen. I realized it much earlier in my 65 years of existence. With the passage of time, I have experienced how much of my concern with social acceptance has percolated into everything I have ventured to do.

The pain of being excluded or rejected is not much different than physical pain or injury. In fact, it is worse a times. I have experienced emotional upheaval, cognition and even manifestation in physical health. Having reached a stage of being ostracized, I have been grappling these to the point of no return. I have never made any attempts to analyze and understand, lesser still, appreciate the whys and hows of rejection. I feel too disabled to rationalize rejection.

I marvel at the people who are evolved to live in cooperative societies. To some, it comes naturally. Like hunger or thirst, their need for acceptance emerges as a mechanism for survival. Social rejection aches cannot be handled like physical pain. Ask anyone who has been at the receiving end of a social snub, he will tell you his sob story of emotional turmoil and cognitive ferment that breed anger, anxiety, depression, jealousy and sadness. Even innocuous episodes of rejection can sting. 

Unlike most people who respond to rejection by seeking inclusion elsewhere, I prefer to go into a shell -- the fear of further rejection always weighing on the mind. Its a pain of chronic rejection that I have found it difficult to ward off although rejection from all quarters has become a way of life. I have begun to avoid people like plague. When I run into them, rebuff looms large. I am saying this despite being a professional and personal counselor. The only inconsistent part of this rejection story is when I counsel others to make a virtue out of it. In many words, not practicing what I preach. In one word 'hypocrisy'.

There is a silver line to this pessimistic story. I have desperately clung on to myself while people don't care about losing me. There is a consistency in my being rejected at all times, on all occasions and by all people including those who come across as close relatives and well wishers. At least a clear rejection is better than fake acceptance. No small consolation that. I have sustained rejections on the premise that you come alone, you go alone. Take rejections in your stride and move on bracing for more rejections. Mercifully, death never rejects anyone. At least someone will be kind enough to embrace me at the fag end of my rejected life. The redeeming feature is I won't be alive to see being rejected even after death.

Of fault-lines in Assam-Mizoram conflict

Raju Korti

The travel advisory issued by Assam government asking people not to travel to Mizoram is a serious reminder of how the states on the North-Eastern fringes of the country lapse into serious internal conflicts at the drop of a hat. Since the last few days, the border between Assam and Mizoram has seen a a number of violent skirmishes following provocation from the latter's civil society, mostly students and youth organizations. Matters precipitated with reports of fierce gun battle on the border leaving some policemen and civilians dead. This is a dangerous augury for a country that has been grappling with one internal conflict after the other, especially in the post 80s era.

The gravity of the situation can be gauged by the fact that this is the first of its kind advisory any state government has issued. I do not think this has happened even in the wake of worst violence resulting from the Maharashtra-Karnataka boundary dispute. While other cases of internal conflicts relating to Khalistan, Gorkhaland, separate Vidarbha and Tamil Eelam have quietened down, the North-East cauldron remains on the boil with periodic trouble on its porous borders. They are perennially vulnerable to armed support from hostile neighbours. The North-Eastern states have shown a marked inclination towards solving their disputes to armed struggle and insurgency. Little surprise panic and apprehension prevails on the border at all times and peace processes are tenuous.

Armed rebellions are not a new phenomenon in the mercurial North-East. Assam, Nagaland, Manipur, Arunachal Pradesh, Mizoram, Tripura and Sikkim have never had a track record of lasting peace on their borders. If it is not about an armed conflict with the Indian government, it is about internecine feuds. There was some respite in the early 90s when the situation appeared to ease but the situation is usually compounded by the presence of several armed factions. These factions nurse their own ideas of separatism -- from regional autonomy to complete independence.       

Most of these states are at loggerheads with the Centre. There is constant tension between native tribals and migrants from other part of India. Remember how in the 80s; Prafulla Kumar Mahanta led the students to become the chief minister with the 'sons of the soil' electoral plank. Besides, these states are not well connected with the country's mainland. They stand alienated despite being on the same map. I suspect, the situation was further aggravated when the Centre applied the Armed Forces Special Power Act (AFSPA) that was intended to quell the armed rebellion with similar tactics. The constant overt and covert attempts by China and Myanmar to stir up trouble queer the pitch.      

Assam has jealously tried to retain its political and cultural identity. Rampant infiltration from Bangladesh keeps altering the state's demographics. The anger of the Assamese is rationalized on the premise that illegal migrants could become the majority if their intrusions are not checked and that would mean loss of political power. There is nothing to show that this alone is the cause of unrest in these states. The North-East is not an industry-rich region. It is resource--deficit and does not have economies of scale to match. The security is uneven with its borders open to intrusions by militants and arms smuggling. 

One would expect that the Governors of such states as executive heads are competent to deal with such crises. The Sarkaria Commission set up in 1983 -- just around the time when North-East was a growing hotspot -- to look into entire gamut of Centre-State relations, made a number of recommendations on the appointments of the Governor. Since most of these went completely against the spirit of all political parties, the key recommendations were kept in cold storage. None of the governments at the Centre had the political will to implement the recommendations in toto. For the Centre; the Sarkaria report was like a razor asking it to cut its own throat.

Although "Seven Sisters", as the North-Eastern states are referred to, have a tumultuous history of border disputes, the backlash has been much severe this time.  In my considered opinion, it is not just a question of bringing these states into the country's  political mainstream. I wonder why the Centre gave the North-Eastern states a short shrift when it went about the reorganization of states and territories along linguistic lines. If anything it showed that these states were never on the check-list of the Centre if the idea was to streamline them. It allowed the disputes to get uglier and open to manipulation by external forces. The Centre just dithered and drifted making no worthwhile attempts to convince the states to accept a workable solution on accepting boundaries. Piecemeal solutions have not worked. It will not even now. '

Assam and Mizoram have been talking through their chief secretaries in a Centre-chaperoned dialogue process to douse inter-state border tensions before their respective police forces fatally clashed. The funniest part is the parties to the dispute swear by peaceful resolution and the unfortunate part is the quest for peace is through war and strife. 

Abdullahs in a 'begaani shaadi" called Afghanistan

Raju Korti
As Afghanistan hurtles from one crisis to another, I recall a piece that I wrote in The Indian Express in 1994 when the Taliban was making decisive inroads to gain control in the war-ravaged country. I had categorically stated that this was a war nobody would win. The Soviet Union coming to grips with its fragmentation had chosen to leave the theatre after installing a puppet government in 1989. The US took a headlong plunge post 2001 but it took them more than two decades to realize that they were fighting a futile war.

Taliban: Waiting for the decisive strike (File grab)

Battlefield since 1978, the emergence of Taliban and their dramatic advances had raised high hopes among war-weary Afghans that their miseries would come to an end. These hopes were dashed sooner than both the Soviets and Americans had thought. After overrunning Kabul, the Taliban remained engaged in a proxy war with the opposition forces led by Ahmed Shah Massoud. History has now repeated with Taliban gaining almost 80% control amidst heavy bloodshed. All because neighbouring countries and regional powers are viciously united in their continued support to the warring factions. 

I had also predicted that the internal conflict between anti-communist Islamic guerrillas and the Afghan communist government would blow up into a long Cold War between NATO and Warsaw Pact countries. The US withdrawal has been twenty years in the making. In its zeal to leave its global footprint, the US learnt next to nothing from the Vietnam war and its military miscarriages in Grenada, Nicaragua, Argentina, Fiji and elsewhere. The strife in Afghanistan has been costly, exhausting and increasingly unpopular, spilling over from one administration to another since George Bush. It persisted despite Obama and Trump making campaign promises under their respective presidencies.

President Biden's announcement about US exit is hasty, risky and ill-timed. For one, it is happening amidst a questionable peace process. It splinters Afghan government forces besides making a mockery of the sacrifices of its forces deployed there. For the emboldened Taliban this was just the opening they were looking for to stamp its presence. The poorly planned withdrawal announced by Biden might very likely boomerang if the Taliban and its terrorist allies manage to overwhelm Afghan forces. By all accounts that appears to be writing on the wall and if they manage to do that on or by 9/11, it will be terrible embarrassment for the Americans. The simple cue on the Soviet Union's exit and its aftermath should have been enough to indicate what might happen if the current trajectory is not checked. 

The US withdrawal could well lead to a similar situation -- devastating civil war and an eventual takeover by extremist hardliners. Taliban's recent moves suggest that it is positioning itself to wait out the occupation and strike at Kabul which is what the Mujahideen did to the Soviet Union in 1989. If this likely scenario transpires, Afghans who cooperated with allied forces with their stakeholders would be at risk. NATO cannot just disengage itself at this juncture just because there is an overly optimistic assessments by the American forces. The US cannot be a mute spectator as the Afghan forces cave in without putting up even a semblance of fight.

The Taliban is playing a smarter game this time by controlling and closing off the northern borders as well as on the Iranian side to prevent the growth of any Northern Alliance-like formation. I don't give the Afghans more than a few weeks before they crumble. The field is left clear with most foreign countries having pulled out. 

The resurgence of Taliban has ominous developments for New Delhi. It has activated support from Pakistan's terror groups like Lashkar-e-Toiba. India’s early engagement with post-Taliban Afghanistan was considered by the United States, Pakistan and the Afghan government to be a strategy to undermine Pakistan. While this may have been true at first, in recent years, India has come to accept that Pakistan has a special interest in Afghanistan that overshadows its own.

The algorithm has changed now. As Afghanistan meanders from bad to worst, it has moved from being a place where extremists co-existed and used terrorism to make a political statement on international scale to where radical ideologues are fighting for dominance. India seriously needs to rethink its long-standing approach towards the country. The premise that an external friendly power would do all the heavy lifting in Afghanistan will not work. For India, it should boil down to viewing Taliban as a Pakistan-sponsored entity that could intensify the insurgency in Kashmir.

It would be sound diplomatic practice for India to try to shape the contours of dialogue with the Afghan Taliban, regardless of who brokers this dialogue. It will allow India to support its partners in Kabul in maintaining an upper hand at the negotiation table and ensure India’s policy aim of maintaining a strategic balance between Afghanistan and Pakistan. However, I also anticipate India's pitch could well be queered by China providing economic aid to a bankrupt Afghan regime. The issue of Uighur Muslims may not be a deterrent in their bonhomie with the Taliban but then China might watch how the show unfolds before they throw their dice. 

Pakistan will not want to watch from the sidelines if Taliban does take over. It will gleefully become an interface between Taliban and China if and when it comes to that. They will seek to shape the contours of power equations to have some control over the Taliban and make sure that China does not snub them by dealing with the Taliban directly. In the midst of this rigmarole, Afghanistan will remain a case of "begaani shaadi mein Abdulle deewane."

An evening spent with Dilip Kumar, the icon on Indian cinema's desktop

Raju Korti
I will never forget my first and only bearing of the Mohammed Yusuf Khan Ghulam Sarwar Khan Peshawari in 1984. The name might confound the new generation whose memories do not stretch beyond  Dilip Kumar's films like Shakti or Saudagar. It was a 'mushaira'  session and Dilip Kumar had decorously chosen to squat on the floor in the true spirit of the event. The mushaira held little interest for me as I was among the legion who knew of his prowess to hold forth with his impeccable Urdu diction. He was equally profound with English and Hindi as I found later after that long one-on-one. 

Sketch by Bhagvan Das

I had handed over my press card to him through one of the organizers and he was gracious enough to acknowledge it with an eye contact right in the midst of reciting an ornamental shayari that came so effortlessly from his literary repositories. I referred to the eye contact because in my considered belief, he was probably the only actor whose eyes spoke eloquently. The rest of the body language just fell in unison. That made up for a devastating combination of the man's histrionics, now part of legendary folklores.

True to his reputation he had arrived well over two hours late and I remember incensed and impatient people had started wondering if the organizers had taken them for a ride. But as some people in the restive crowd had started making their way to the exit, in walked Dilip Kumar, his hands touching his forehead in a theatrical 'aadaab'. It was a measure of his ability to cast a hypnotic spell on the audience that they quickly retraced their steps followed by a hushed silence that could be only explained how he overawed people. He had sensed the mood of the audience with his decades experience as an unsurpassed actor. He was dressed in a Lungi and Kurta and his apple-peach complexion glowed and stood out in the maze of people on the stage.

The programme went on till 4 but more than half way through, he exited the stage and I thought my meeting had fizzled out in thin air. Just as I was grappling with my predicament, an organizer nudged me and told me 'Yusufbhai aap se milenge.' I saw him in his room sitting the same way. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he beckoned me to sit with a 'khushamdeed' -- khu and deed pronounced with the flourish and weight of a true Urdu stickler.

He looked at me amused when I told him that in the trinity that he formed with Dev Anand and Raj Kapoor, he was the Vishnu, Raj Kapoor the Mahesh and Dev Anand the Brahma. "I don't know what makes you say this but I can guess. We were all made up differently though we found our roots in the same profession. We all started a few years plus minus of each other but grew and evolved with a cinematic vision that defined us in a distinct way.

Explaining his metamorphosis from a method and serious actor in the late forties to one who got a little melodramatic towards the later sixties with the fifties as the fulcrum of his landmark performances, Dilip Kumar told me with the same intense, understated expression that had become  archetypal: "My career gradient has seen seamless transitions. From my first film Jwarbhata (1944), I charted some serious roles. Milan, Jugnu, Shaheed, Mela, Andaz, Jogan, Aarzoo, Deedar, Daag, Sangdil, Shikast, Tarana, Footpath, Devdas got me the sobriquet of 'Tragedy King.' I think it has something to do with my resilience with tragedies. In my formative years, I struggled to look after a huge family of in-laws, cousins and other close relatives. Life can be tough and that teaches you to be plaint. Maybe that reflected in my screen disposition."

"Sometimes in mid-fifties you changed track with the likes of Naya Daur, Yahudi, Madhumati, Kohinoor, Mughal-e-Azam, Gunga Jumna, Leader and Ram aur Shyam where your character was less overbearing. You took on lighter roles. Kohinoor, Leader and Ram aur Shyam were actually out and out comedies. How did you enter these skins with the same aplomb?" Dilip Kumar smiled the same mischievous smile that was evident in 'Nain lad jai hai to manwa ma kasak hui bekari'. "Even if there is an opportunity to school yourself in different characters -- characters that have distinct personalities which may be totally different from yours, you have got to completely divorce your own personality to be able to go over to the other personality."       

I do not think that any actor has unfolded the spectrum of acting that Dilip Kumar did. From the drunken, bloodshot-eyed Devdas to the pompous and ceremonious Prince Salim of Mughal-e-Azam, to the eternal romanticist of Madhumati, to the desperate crippled of Aadmi, to the outrageous buffoon in Ram aur Shyam and the over-the-top character in Shakti, Saudagar, Mazdoor and Kranti.His roles resonated in the rotund voice of Rafi through 'Peete peete kabhi kabhi yun jaam badal jaate hai.' The heady concoction was served for sixty five plus years on celluloid.

Nostalgic about the songs that he got to lip synch in the prime of his career, Dilip Kumar considered himself lucky to get the fare he did. "The equations were set in those days. It was Shanker-Jaikishen and Raj Kapoor and SD Burman and Dev(Anand). So it was Naushad mia, Rafisaab and Shakeel (Badayuni) who took up cudgels for me. Initially, Talat (Mehmood) mia who had become my voice but you see how the film music climbed from the subdued low to the screaming high. When Rafisaab took over after his Baiju Bawra success, he was singing in low pitch but he started hitting high notes with Amar (1954) onward. If you would have seen us playing badminton together, you would have seen how well we gelled with each other. Shakeelsaab kalaam likhe, Naushadmia tarz banaaye aur Rafisaab gaaye!"  

Regretting the little fallout with Rafi who was perhaps as blessed in stature, Dilip Kumar said "He (Mohammed Rafi) was a Man of God. Nothing against Kishore but I admit 'Saala mai to saab ban gaya' (Sagina Mahato-1970) looked jarring on me. The status quo was restored with 'Sukh ke sab saathi  (Gopi) and 'Na tu zameen ke liye hai' (Dastaan). It spoke volumes about the three legendary personalities of Indian cinema that they never washed dirty linen in public.

I remember the controversy Dilip Kumar had courted in the mid-eighties when he chose to marry Asma because his marriage with reigning actress and beauty queen Saira Banu was rumored to be fledgling because of the age differences between them. After a lot of dithering, Dilip Kumar came clean and divorced his new wife. As the in-charge of Page One that day, I had carried the story as a box item given the public interest it had generated. However that chapter of his life as also the much spoken about love affair with Madhubala were of no concern to me. Love affairs in the film industry have nothing to offer than some prurient quotient.

Dilip Kumar fondly reminisced how he had reached out to people other than those from his fraternity. "Bal Thackeray was a special friend. We were a mutual admiration club. There were times when I would impromptu gate-crash into his house. We would sit on the terrace of his house and discuss this and that over red wine and a very tasty 'chakna' (a starter) his wife Meenatai would rustle up with boiled peanuts, finely chopped onions, tomatoes and lime. In fact, I so much loved this starter that I remember eating it days on end at home. Contrary to what most people think, our political views never came in between our friendship." Unfortunately, towards the late nineties that was no longer true as Thackeray had rubbished him uncharitably after he was conferred the Nishan-e-Pakistan by the Pakistan government. To Dilip Kumar's credit he did not let his dignity to come in the way in the way of what could have been a slanging match. He matched the depth of his flawless articulation with poise that many in the industry today dreadfully lack.

As someone who was passionate about football, Dilip Kumar, a product of the Khalsa College, could have well donned the cap. "At times, I was more possessed as a footballer than as an actor. My outlet found it's way on the various grounds across Mumbai -- Shivaji Park mostly. I would hop out of my car and join any match in progress much to the amusement and appreciation of the participants. They would be surprised I could dribble through and pack a lethal kick. If you allow fame to get the better of you, you become nuisance, a public nuisance, a nuisance as a friend, as a member of the family, a nuisance to yourself. So I let myself go whenever I saw people playing football."

The Dilip Kumar psyche can be understood in this context. "My becoming an actor was more a twist of tale than a chosen course because I dared not to think I could ever become an actor. I couldn't even walk up on the stage and say 'Thank You' when we were to receive trophies at our sports meets at college." How he refined himself with time to deliver those weighty speeches is another story.

It is not my case here to deal with his life that is already in public domain. For that matter, I don't know if I have contributed anything new about his persona and professional life. As he is interred in the same Juhu cemetery where other icons have also been laid to rest -- Meena Kumari, Mohammed Rafi, Madhubala, Sahir Ludhianvi, Naushad, Ali Sardar Jaffri, Talat Mehmood, Jan Nisar Akhtar to name a few -- Dilip Kumar will be in the august company.

Having lived a full life of 98 years, it probably had to be his alter ego Rafi who sang this for him much before his own untimely demise in 1980. The voice and words are tailor-made for Dilip Kumar:

आज पुरानी राहों से कोई मुझे आवाज़ ना दे
दर्द में डूबे गीत ना दे, ग़म का सिसकता साज़ ना दे
बीते दिनों की याद थी जिन में, मैं वो तराने भूल चूका
आज नई मंज़िल है मेरी, कल के ठिकाने भूल चूका
ना वो दिल ना सनम, ना वो दिन धरम
अब दूर हूँ सारे गुनाहों से
टूट चुके सब प्यार के बंधन, आज कोई जंजीर नहीं
शीशा-ए-दिल में अरमानों की, आज कोई तस्वीर नहीं
अब शाद हूँ मैं, आज़ाद हूँ मैं 
कुछ काम नहीं है आहों से
पहुँचा हूँ वहाँ, नहीं दूर जहाँ 
भगवान भी मेरी निगाहों से

Raju Korti
In my 41 years as mediaperson, I have come across a category of people that has a special talent for stating the obvious. It occurs fairly equally in high and low intelligence people. Even with the specious argument that what is obvious to one may not be obvious to the other, it has the potential to make a dumbass of others. But the hilarity of not understanding what you say and believing the other people don't understand or  realize makes the irony delicious.

In 1982 I was into third year on my job and had been just elevated as the Shift In-charge of Page One. It was actually baptism by fire. From rewriting mofussil stories I was suddenly asked to do Page One on the day the union budget was presented. The stories from the wire and correspondents were coming in thick and fast. Those were the days when pages were being made manually on the Lino and the editor in-charge had to not only edit Page One stories, he also had to design the page. When I entered the newsroom around 8 pm, I saw my desk flooded with agency copies. 

Since, I knew fairly well what went into the making of the budget, I was confident of putting the edition to bed by the stipulated deadline. Before I could take my seat, a senior colleague of mine told me "Boss, aaj budget hai." I hid my sarcasm and asked him, Oh, is it? 

This colleague had a habit of reminding me the most important development of the day, especially  when I would be handling Page One. When the ethnic conflict broke out in Sri Lanka, he told me in his charitable tone "Boss, aaj Lanka ka story hai." If I had shouted "yes", I am sure LTTE chief V Prabhakaran would have heard it in Jaffna. But I let that pass.

Over a period, I acquired the reputation of a newsmaker in whose Page One shifts something shattering would invariably happen. My colleague would take a great delight in telling me what were the lead stories of the day. He sincerely believed I had zero news sense. On the night of 2-3rd December 1984, as I walked into the newsroom he sported his trademark benign smile and said "Boss, aaj Bhopal gas tragedy ki story hai." A year later, it was "Boss, aaj Indira ka assassination hua hai." 

"Boss, aaj railway accident ki story hai, Boss aaj Rajiv (Gandhi) cabinet ki story hai...." the list is countless. The only redeeming feature of these serial episodes was being addressed as "Boss" which was seemingly used out of habit. I do not recollect when this stopped but somewhere along the line, he realized I wasn't as dumb as he thought.

Stating the obvious has its own advantages. It fills up news space and talk time. Our erudite folks on the television have fine-tuned the art. "Aap ko kaisa lag raha hai?" is a universal question for all occasions and tragedies. The English version of 'stating the obvious' found a regional version in 'Zaahir si baat hai.." The obvious is consolidated by the camera which has better quality than the accompanying journalist. 

Lifestyle publications and channels have made a living out of inane questions. Food vloggers and anchors are sound so profound when they shoot questions like:Ye hotel aap ne kab se shuru kiya?

Iska matlab hai, aap ki teen peedhiyan is line me hai.

 

 

Of Imran Khan's servility and Chinese belligerence

Raju Korti

Xi addressing the Communist Party centenary.

While the Chinese President Xi Jinping has been flexing his muscles to lend a melodramatic touch to the centenary celebrations of the Communist Party and the world watching in mild amusement, he has a condescending but helpless admirer in Imran Khan. The Pakistan prime minister has justified the common Indian line Majboori ka naam Mahatma Gandhi by 'accepting' the Chinese version of how it treats ethnic Uighur Muslims. There are more than 12 million Uighurs living a lowly life in Xinjiang.

On a sticky wicket in his own country, Khan has no other option but to toe the Chinese line. It is a no brainer that he is forced to franchise what the Chinese are doing to the sizable chunk of Uighur Muslim population being subjected to ethnic cleansing in southern Xinjiang. The Amnesty International has said the Uighur Muslims whose roots are Turkish, are living in a "dystopian hellscape". So much so that while being systematically eliminated, they are not even allowed to practice Islam and speak their mother tongue. For that matter, China's utter disdain for Muslims has been well documented, but Khan doesn't bat an eyelid, incommoded  as his country is under China's obligation. China has constantly denied the allegations of genocide in Xinjiang camps where the Uighurs have been languishing. But both China and Pakistan know exactly what's happening and both are lying to their teeth.   

Khan disguises his helplessness with a political expediency that he can do nothing about. It is a measure of his crooked bent of mind that instead he chose to divert the human rights abuse issue to Pakistan's pet peeve Kashmir. In a statement clearly meant to appease the Chinese, he says, "Islamabad accepts 'Chinese version' of how it treats Uighur Muslims because of its extreme proximity and relationship with Beijing." While in the past, China has snubbed Pakistan several times on the issue of providing economic aid, it is not clear how much the latter has benefited from the arms aid.

There is not much to establish that Pakistan, partitioned on religion and now an Islamic state run on Shariah, has concern for Muslims across the world unless there is a over-riding political reason. It does not shed tears for Muslims in India as they know they are better off in India than the rickety country. As Xi spoke about the "alternative model" that has beaten all Western democracies, Khan quickly latched on to the Western media saying it was hypocritical of them to talk only about the Chinese situation. The Chinese must be chuckling that they are now licensed to intensify their state-orchestrated campaign against the Uighurs without pretensions.

In their persecution, the Uighurs suffer unlivable conditions, torture, forced sterilizations, coercive birth prevention and sexual violence inside the camps and are subjected to institutionalized enslavement. They will be wiped out sooner than later. There is no way the issue can be taken to the International Court of Justice as China does not recognize its authority or jurisdiction. China has also denied foreign observers access to Xinjiang. It has lost on Khan -- or that is what he pretends to -- China's track record of targeting Muslim religious figures and banning religious practices as well as destroying mosques and tombs. Khan chooses to ignore all this and instead says the people of China have a special place in the hearts of Pakistanis.

I do not think Pakistan can get any tangible benefits from China's status as world's largest economy with largest foreign exchanges. No country can become an ally of China. Xi's model is characterized by an authoritarian political structure and state driven capitalism. I do not find it altogether surprising that the mild demeanored Xi arrogated to himself for lifetime all the powers by usurping the Communist Party of China (CPC) and People's Liberation Army (PLA). On April 8, 2020, I wrote: "As the central figure of the fifth generation of leadership of the People's Republic, Xi has significantly centralized institutional power by taking on a wide range of leadership positions. His political thoughts have been written into the party and state constitutions and his tenure has witnessed significant increase of censorship, mass surveillance and deterioration of human rights.

The least Khan could have done was to maintain a diplomatic silence when Xi was playing to the gallery addressing a captive audience at the CPC's centenary. The resolve in (henceforth) not allowing Pakistan's soil to be used by the American troops was nowhere in evidence. Khan badly needs better political advisors but then that is a tall order given that the entire country survives and sustains only on the Kashmir obsession.

On a lighter note, Khan's (helpless) appeasement of the Chinese reminds me of a Mukesh song "Jo tumko ho pasand wohi baat karenge, tum din ko agar raat kaho raat kahenge...." It also suits his nasal tone.

Of Greek alphabets and Covid-19 mutations

Raju Korti
Greek alphabets can be fun or irritation depending on whether you like or hate Mathematics and/or Physics. My personal experience with them has been partly-exciting-partly exasperating at various levels of engagement with Science. But the World Health Organization has queered the pitch by naming the Covid-19 variants after them. It makes life that much more difficult for someone like me whose education has roots in Maths and Physics.

The virus in India's second wave

The B.1.617.1 and B.1.617.2 variants of the Covid-19 that were first identified in India have been named as "Kappa" and "Delta" by the WHO in its compassionate wisdom. This compassion is not without its undercurrents. I would love to believe that the WHO, often accused as a "stooge of China", has hit upon this mode of nomenclature as the Covid-19 was, and is, believed to have originated from that country. The WHO's specious thinking lends credence by making a concession for Chinese culpability and diverting international attention with consideration for other countries. It is like being magnanimous in sharing the loot when you are caught.

The WHO has another rationale according to which this will make it easier for people across the globe to understand which variant they are grappling with. The earlier variants sounded more like an arithmetic progression that one could not make head or tail of. The Greek alphabets have come in handy but the rate at which the parent virus is mutating, I wonder what the world health body will do in the course of time when all the alphebets would have been exhausted.

It is pertinent that the WHO's brainstorm comes weeks after India voiced displeasure at the B.1.617 mutant of the novel coronavirus being termed an Indian variant. In any case giving a nationality to the virus sounded puerile and insensitive. Showing alacrity, an expert group of the UN health agency recommended use of Alpha, Beta, Gamma which would be easier and more practical to discuss by non-scientific audiences. At the moment we are looking at the Lambda variant.

On a lighter note, I see at least eight Greek alphabets that sound like Chinese names. Mu, Nu, Xi, Pi, Rho, Tau, Phi and Chi are the ones that could be discomforting to the Chinese. The third and the last are particularly embarrassing for reasons that do not need elaboration. The Covid-19 has brought the Greek alphabets from the empyrean heights to the pedestrian terra firma. From once being names of the stars in order of their brightness, they have mutated into an infinitesimal but ominous existence. The ancient Greeks known for their contributions to modern society and widely believed to be founders of philosophy have every reason to marvel at the distance their alphabets have traveled and the wide applications they have found.

How the mighty fall!

John McAfee, Julian Assange and the Snowden Effect

Raju Korti
Former National Security Agency and data privacy votary Edward Snowden surely realizes what it means to be a whistle-blower in a country that makes regulation virtue of free speech and individual liberties.

The man at the wrong end of the thirties has been America's most consequential whistle-blowers, responsible for the most significant leaks in US political history. His exiled life is an outcome of the historically unprecedented rate at which the then Obama administration prosecuted whistle-blowers. He marches on regardless, seized very well that the US administration will attempt to use all its weight to punish him. In a tweet he had lamented that "societies that demand whistle-blowers be martyrs often find themselves without either, and always, when it matters most." 

Snowden's latest pointed tweet that WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange "could be the next" after the alleged suicide of anti-virus software mogul John McAfee in a Spain jail should be understood in this context. Known for his larger-than-life personality, McAfee of the pioneer McAfee Associates, was charged with tax evasion between 2014 and 2018 having made millions from consultancy work, cryptocurrencies and selling the rights to his life story that Hollywood seemed sold out on.

Snowden should know. Whistle-blowers are sometimes seen as selfless martyrs who stand up for public interest and organizational accountability while at the other end of the spectrum some view them as traitors or defectors accusing them of pursuing personal glory and being politically motivated. Seen as civil disobedience or protection from wrongdoing, it is fraught with risks either way.

McAfee was no whistle-blower. He called himself a libertarian and was known for his anti-government stance on guns, drugs and liberty. His tweets, often cryptic and ominous suggested that he was the target of wealthy elites, including the top ranking officials in the CIA. Paranoiac probably got to him when the Spanish court decided to extradite him to the US.

The Snowden Effect" is palpable when he says that "Europe should not extradite those accused of non-violent crimes to a court system so unfair -- and prison system so cruel --that native-born defendants would rather die than become subject to it. Julian Assange could be next. Until the system is reformed, a moratorium should remain." 

Snowden's tweet is a scathing indictment of the American administration of justice. Although his apprehensions make for a valid argument, the American Constitution with its Judiciary-is-supreme tenet makes any expectation of reform a tall order -- even if it makes some sense to provide for concessions for non-criminal cases. The American Constitution is not generously flexible like the Indian Constitution and leaves next to zero scope for amendments.

McAfee was 75 but Assange is 49 and although this is no comparison, the similarities between the two cases cannot be wished away. The highest common factor among Snowden, McAfee and Assange is the US government is out to get them. Unlike McAfee, Assange won his extradition battle but he has not been bailed because he is considered a flight risk. It sounds almost prophetic that the UK court which blocked his extradition cited that Assange's was at the risk of suicide given his mental health problems. 

His prosecution in US follows WikiLeaks publication of hundreds of thousands of leaked documents relating to his country's role in Afghanistan and Iraq wars as well as diplomatic cables, a decade back. With McAfee no more on the scene, Snowden and Assange face the prospect of spending decades behind bars in their country. That eventuality, however, is anybody's guess.

As if on premonition, McAfee had tweeted a few days before his death that "All power corrupts. Take care which powers you allow a democracy to wield." Behind that tweet is the inherent lament that in a democracy you just choose the lesser evil. The supreme irony is Snowden had to find a lesser evil in Russia in his political expediency -- other ramifications aside.

Edward Snowden is an example of his own Snowden Effect.

We did not want to win, so we lost!

Raju Korti

Pic courtesy ICC/Twitter

There is a thing called intent in Sport. It is primarily and predominantly about winning a game. Since winning or losing is a part of the game, the least teams can do is to try and make a match of it. But the way India capitulated yesterday before a resurgent Kiwis, it appeared that there was neither any intention to win nor any resolve to put up even a semblance of fight.

To all those who sat through the truncated game that saw more than half the duration of match lost to inclement weather, the Indians looked so meek and forbearing that they seemed more keen on losing than the Kiwis wanting to win. The only player who looked fierce on the field was Ravichandran Ashwin who justified his selection on a patently seaming wicket that was exploited to the hilt by the New Zealanders. The other ten just seemed to be going through motions with no sense of purpose.

To me, the single most dominant factor that divided the performance of the two teams was the quality of bowling. The Kiwi bowlers swung the ball prodigiously in perfectly seaming conditions but the Indians, for all their much crowed batting line up, seemed to have relapsed into the pre-70s era when they would invariably get out flirting with outgoing deliveries. I refuse to believe that a Test playing nation that prides on being Number One in ICC ranking can be so spunkless.

I recall what the late Ajit Wadekar, elevated as India's captain in 1971 through a casting vote, had said when the Indians were touring the mighty West Indies. Asked how his batsmen would cope with the Windies' fast bowling battery, he replied, "good batsmen are not afraid of good bowlers." His side justified that confidence. Any rationale for preparing pitches that suit the home side is a lame excuse since every hosting team does it. It is all about how well you adapt to the different conditions and pitches overseas.

Jamieson, Boult, Southee and Wagner bowled to a plan and just did not allow the Indians to free their arms. From the first day (which was actually the second) the Indians looked like they had given up. After that pathetic display in the first innings, they just didn't have the guts to fight. Indian captain Virat Kohli should take a cue or two from rival skipper Kane Williamson who looked calm, poised and self-assured. The Indian captain looks grumpy and angry most of the times when the chips are down and sports wicked smiles and gesticulations when winning. It has lost on him that a leader can be assertive and level-headed in desperate situations.

Full credit to the Kiwis who missed the last World Cup by a whisker. Having endured the understated agony of losing the World Cup, they had a point to prove and they did just that. The Indians just made it easier for them. How the Kiwis rid their ghosts of the World Cup semis and finals; shrugging off the disappointment that permeated their side in destiny's sweepstakes! Remember how the same Kane Williamson glided through the blues of that dramatic superover with the customary elan that he is come to be known for. Our man just huffs and puffs in crises.

That brings me to the post-match comments that Kohli made where he indicated "he might bring in right people with right mindset to perform" in the Test side just like their white ball set-up where they have multiple players ready to shoulder responsibility at the highest level. That's a rash comment because he obviously doesn't realize its implications. Does he mean that the present team with him as the presiding deity doesn't have that right mindset? Or is he casting aspersions on the judgement of the selectors who are "supposed to select the best playing eleven"? For that matter, does he think his team members are not right? By referring to "multiple players ready to shoulder responsibility at the highest level" he is also making a mockery of India's much tom tommed bench strength of batsmen and bowlers. In his complacency and assured place in the side, he has trashed his own team members without realising that this shit will hit the fan sooner than later. The message from Kohli is loud and clear: If at all any heads have to roll in the aftermath of this wretched defeat, it won't be his. 

As an aside, in the interests of positivity, this blog deserves the picture of New Zealanders in celebration not the beaten Indians. Sporting spirit should make us applaud the Blackcaps who finally got there and deservingly so. They were led by Kane who is also Able. 

A figure of speech called "father figure"

Raju Korti
As someone who has been a "father figure" to many youngsters, I have always believed that it takes a strong man to accept somebody else's children and step up to the plate another man left on the table. The conviction probably also stems from the fact that I am not a biological parent. Being a teacher to grown up students and youngsters in my chosen profession, I know the trappings well.

It is Father's Day today and as it happens year after year, there seems to be a knock-out being played on whose dad is the best (in the world). In the tie-breaker all fathers are winners hands down. The concept that fathers are born and not made puts "father figures" like me at a permanent disadvantage. The father figure is rolled gold to a father's pure gold.

In my three decades of teaching and four decades of being a professional, I have been addressed as a father figure by many. Some of them said it formally while with some it appeared in their demeanor. But I took a backseat as they they latched on to their biological fathers whenever it came to be vocal. The "father figure" was always the unsung hero. Blood is thicker than water and tokenism has a higher brand equity. There is just an academic quotient to being a father figure.

Go to an Archie's Gallery! You won't find cards thanking father figures. Why sell duplicates when there is an original? This may sound like a harangue but the fact is "father figures" are one time passwords that become invalid upon use. Consumerism looks at sisters, brothers, mothers and fathers, not their in-law or surrogate versions. As "father figure" my only proud possessions are two scrappy "Thank You" cards. The spoken "Thank Yous" have had even shorter life. Speaks volumes about the influence of varnished fathers of whom I am a glowing example.

I have been caring, supportive, kind, helpful, generous but as a "father figure" I am just a figure of speech. As I wrote a little while ago: Fathers take away all the credits and accolades as they should. Father figures are laid by the wayside.  

The vicarious pleasure of being a one-man selection committee

Raju Korti
Selecting the best playing eleven is the most thankless job. Ask the cricket selection committee members, they will tell you they have more brickbats coming their way than bouquets. In a country where cricket is a logo for nationalism, the game becomes a strange mix of binding as well as divisive force. Just about everyone who believes he knows the game is an expert commentator and has his two cents to offer on the teams selected.

I suspect even players in the reckoning are disgruntled when they are left out of the playing eleven or for an overseas tour. Expediency keeps their mouth shut but occasionally, some do let their angst out like Mohinder Amarnath did when he called the selection committee as "bunch of jokers" after he was sidelined in 1989. Amarnath probably drew his guts following his reputation as the best player of fast bowling at his peak. That didn't change matters. Neither the selectors budged nor Amarnath had any regrets.

Since then on, selector bashing has become a norm. Farookh Engineer poked fun at the selectors calling them "Mickey Mouse Committee." In his righteous indignation, Yuvraj also called "their thinking  in terms of modern day cricket not up to the mark." The story in other playing nations is not much different. Remember Shoaib Akhtar who took a dig at the selectors saying "players in Pakistan are chosen on the basis of their connections." The relations between the players and the selection committee are forever on the tenterhooks, the prime example being the never-any-love-lost between West Indies cricket board and its players.  

If the role of the respective cricketing boards have come under constant scrutiny, a new fad has emerged in recent times where players and cricket lovers give their fantasy a fight to come out with their own All Time Eleven. It has, of course, academic interest but it nevertheless generates a fierce debate on the choices. Every now and then past greats come out with their best playing eleven of the world. Since they are subjective and based on their individual perceptions, they become contentious. The controversy makes a great cud to chew on.

Apparently made on "merit", the pitch is queered when the selections are neither subjective nor perceptive but made with patriotism in mind. Some time ago, Australia's Michael Clark's All Time Best Playing Eleven had as many as six Aussie players. Yesterday, the mercurial Shahid Afridi named five Pakistani players in his All Time Best. These have Gavaskar or a Tendulkar or a Viv Richards as apologies thrown in because it would be too much to have only one nation representing the world. If it has to be an Indian, you might find at least six to seven Indian players -- no prizes for guessing who and why. That goes for individual players as well. You just have to say that Virat is the best, and there will be people pouncing on you with the names of Babar Azam, Steve Smith, Joe Root or even Kane Williamson.  

I recall Khalid Ansari, the Editor of Sportsweek while taking a jibe at the national selectors told me "the selection committee is not happy until ten players are from (then) Bombay and the eleventh is Venkataraghavan. Regionalism, nationalism make short work of merit when you known state associations pitch for their own players in the side on the pretext of quota. Dissensions and bickering are to be expected when the team becomes a collection of assorted players who are in the team more because of the state they belong to than to the country.

One must give it to those who opt to become selectors for all the flak they get all the time. People engaged with the game studiously keep away from the hot seat to avoid criticism that is anyhow inevitable. Who wants to be at the receiving end of public criticism? Besides, keeping away from the hot seat gives them the licence to criticize at will. It is easy to make selections without being an official selector. So pick your players and announce them. They will question your judgement but you will be spared of the joker tag not discounting the vicarious pleasure of ruffling feathers for fun. 

By the way, I have been exercising my brains since yesterday over my World's Best All Time Eleven. It is likely that at the end of the names, I may have to write Jai Hind!      

Memories of an encounter with Javed Miandad

Raju Korti
Yesterday was Javed Miandad's birthday. There is, of course, little to write about the man as his exploits on and off the field are well documented to bear any repetition but the temptation to revisit this man, barely two months older than me, stirred some memories that stem from my meeting with him in 1983-84 when the Pakistanis had come to India. At the peak of his cricketing career, just a year earlier, he had made life miserable for the Indians in that epic 451 run partnership with Mudassar Nazar in Hyderabad (Sindh).

Into my fifth year as a professional journalist, I remember nursing an intense desire to become a sports writer then. Javed Miandad had been on my radar for reasons more than the one I just mentioned. Among them was the way he stood, chin drawn forward, to confront Denniss Lillee in what appeared to be a certain physical fight since both were abrasive cricketers. That did not happen as saner counsel prevailed, but it would have been interesting to see how Javed would have stood up to the stronger Lillee.

From the very day he stepped on to the crease first he had made it clear with his demeanor and body language that he was self-styled and would not be dictated by anybody including the captains he played under; with the possible exception of Imran. But I suspect, Imran, self-styled himself, was wary of Javed's ways. Javed was never the one to take anybody's instructions and if you look at the cold war between them post their retirement, the maverick cricketer must have really restrained himself from over-riding his World Cup winning captain.

My two meetings with him during the 1983-84 series vindicated my view that Javed made for an interesting case study as a person that so seamlessly merged in the cricketer within him. Vedam Jaishankar, who covered cricket for Indian Express during my time wrote a scathing piece in "firstpost" that "Imran the captain was a megalomaniac who ran Pakistan team as his fiefdom. He believed he could rewrite the rules to suit the moment. He had scant regard for tournament rules, opponents, television channels, or even his own cricketing Board. He was a law unto himself, at least where Pakistan cricket was concerned. While he cultivated an apparently aloof image for himself, he strategically let loose the perky and extremely obnoxious Javed (Miandad) to get under the opponents' skin and unsettle them." 

The only difference was Imran carried the charisma of his Oxford background -- for whatever its worth -- while Javed was crude. You could call him the tenth xerox of Imran Khan. In the face, annoying and ever ready to rub people the wrong way! However, like Imran, he reveled in holding Indians in disdain despite all the adulation both got in India. While the media and spectators viewed them as ace sportsmen, the two derived sadistic pleasure in running down Indians. Imran never made a secret of his  rabid hatred of the Indians but Javed, I believed, did it just to needle the opponents and spectators.  The Pakistani team had many heavyweights and almost every player acted like a parallel captain. Little wonder, many players revolted against Javed's aristocratic functioning that consequently catapulted Imran to the captaincy. Materially, it did not matter as the only difference between them was one appeared sophisticated and the other couldn't care less if he was being crass.    

Javed loved the attention he got in India because of his theatrics and he got away with most of them. I was not sure how he would respond to my questions given the dubious reputation he had made for himself, but the man, off field, was another revelation. As soon as he saw me, he had that customary smirk on his face which, if you thought otherwise, also looked partly like a genuine smile. I had been tipped off by a senior cricket writer that the Pakistanis loved to be addressed as "mia" or "bhai." He was thrilled to bits being called as Javedmia or Javedbhai.

To ease the stiffness of the first meeting, I began the conversation by saying I was born in the same year (1957) as he was with him being just two months older. That worked. He immediately put a friendly arm around me and replied with his characteristic bluster that "1957 had a history attached to it. I was born that year. You will become famous too." I laughed at that cosmetic observation because as of today, he still corners attention and controversies and me nowhere close to courting history of any kind.

Javed didn't have much to speak about Indian cricketers but he was certainly in the awe of Sunil Gavaskar whom he kept calling as Govaskar. His broken English and carelessly cobbled words did not in the least make him conscious. He made no bones that he loved rattling and unsettling rivals, the pick of whom were Indians. He recalled how "this guy Dilip Doshi was quiet and concentrated on his line and length but I upset him by my banter. It even tickled Govaskar."

"What is with you that you appeal for a leg before decision from extra covers or deep fine leg?" He burst out laughing. "You can never under-estimate the potential of a chorus appeal in high-tension matches, especially against India. Forget being on the ground, I wouldn't have hesitated to appeal for LBWs even I am in the players' dug out. The idea is to pull out all the stops. Everything is fair in cricket against India because it is no less a war. For most people, cricket is a sport but for me, its a bigger deal. I am on the field for a mission. As far as I am concerned, cricket is a war and I am at war when playing." He later put this in black and white in his autobiography "Cutting Edge My Autobiography" where he describes his encounters against India in a chapter 'Wars Against India.'

Discretion never on his mind, Javed wasn't bothered if he did not make sense. Obviously, he lacked -- and still lacks --the polish that comes from education. His comments on Kashmir, on a different trajectory, vis a vis PM Imran shows he continues to be prone to needless bluster. My interaction revealed the street fighter that he was and his chirpy behaviour showed he not only fought with the bat, he wouldn't blink before throwing his verbal volleys.

I am least surprised he has married his son off to India's most wanted fugitive Dawood Ibrahim's daughter. Knowing him you can perfectly believe that the one thought in his head in forging this alliance was to cock a snook at the Indians. It is so patently Javedian. And to think of it, Dawood was very much in Mumbai moving into the bigger netherworld of crime when Javed played against India at the Wankhede stadium. Dawood fled to Dubai in 1986, the same year Javed broke Indian hearts with that last ball six off Chetan Sharma. May be their alliance was destined.