The Gurgaon Pigs

The title of this article might be a little misleading. Given the way the last word of the title is generally used, I shall not be in a position to blame the reader for any misunderstanding. No I am not going to launch in to a tirade against some unscrupulous neighbours of mine in the city of Gurgaon. I am not complaining against some corrupt leaders of this city by calling them ‘pigs’. I am not venting my anger against the man who nearly rammed his car in to mine. The use of the word in the title is ‘as much as possible’- harmless.

The reader has got it wrong again. Gurgaon Pigs is not the name of the latest IPL franchise. I meant the word in the literal sense. Yes indeed, I was referring to a litter of pigs which is now the single most dominant specie (after the Gurgaonite) on the streets of Gurgaon. I am talking about a particular litter just outside my apartments (opposite Park Plaza Hotel as I tell everyone). Yes indeed, the Millennium City of Gurgaon also has its fair share of wildlife.

To grasp the finer details of this litter, one has to go back in time and space. One has to find out the ownership or wild status of the litter. However I do not have that luxury as I was not staying in the city for nearly two years. Since I have come back to my city, I have been observing this litter over time. Everyday I have been reaching office 5 minutes later (not late but later than otherwise) primarily because of this observation time. In the summer, I observed frantic mating. It was as if the heat in the air had brought out the best of the lust in the gentle-pigs arousing their virility to the fullest extent. In the winter the piglets came out. The she-pig has been scouring the ends of her earth (between Park Plaza and Gold Souk) for forage to suckle her babies. Recent observation tells me the piglets are maturing in to pigs and scouring the earth themselves. A highlight in the lives of these piglets came about a month back, a day which surely hardened them for the toughest challenges they will face. A lot of us love pork and in fact the internet tells me that it is the maximum consumed meat item in the world. I am one of those who love pork and I could totally empathize with the street dogs on this fateful day. While I was on my way to office, I was met with a scene straight from the Savannah (the Savannah might even be shamed). A duo of street dogs drooling about pork set their sights upon these piglets. The two were attacking from either flank, while the target was being protected again from the two flanks by mama and papa pig. Street dog A attacked from the right wing so the father charged on it with the mother providing protection at the back. Now with A behind, it was the turn of street dog B to attack from the left but now the mother pig from her rear bazooked forward from defence to attack. This went on for fifteen odd minutes at the end of which time it remained a stalemate. I caught the next metro to office hoping to catch on the action after my return. While going I observed another couple of pigs in another corner doing what they do best in the winter chill. When I came back to the spot around twelve hours later I counted the number of piglets. They did not show any change in number. I assumed it was too early for the new couple on the locality so I heaved a sigh of relief for the ‘still safe’ piglets but felt a pang of sadness for the street dogs who missed the royal treat.

Hitler’s Loss: America’s Gold

A quick glance at the 10 most destructive battles in human history tells a clear story. 9 of those 10 deadliest in human history happen to have been fought by only 2 nations against each other in a period of barely 4 years. Not surprisingly the nations were Germany and Russia and the years 1941-45. The two nations were tied in on an apocalyptic battle fighting on racial, religious and most crucially ideological fronts. Germans and Russians fought for every inch of their soil and the battles had no feel-good heroism, it was true barbarism.

Britain was the other major European power which fought Germany toe to toe in the Second World War. Due to their relative closeness on the ideological front and their supposed racial similarities the battles were more gentlemanly and fair in nature. These two countries did most of the German (& Italian) killing during the war while it is often constructed that America was more busy with Japan. However this misses a very crucial point- America’s economic might. While not directly as responsible for the German deaths as the Russians, Hitler’s ultimate bad decision might as well have been to take on the might of the American economy.

A key fact of utmost importance can be used as a vital indicator. Just prior to WWII, France was the world’s 4^th largest industrial power and it accounted for 5 % of its capital goods production. Germany and Britain were tied 2^nd with 14% each, with Britain being just ahead on decimal figures. These three countries thus together accounted for roughly 33% of production. Japan and Russia, 2 of the other major powers had even less contribution. U.S.A. accounted for a whopping 42% share. And this at a time when America was still not totally out of Depression, while Britain and Germany were quicker to come out of it. During the war, America sold/lent millions of tons of food, winter clothing, tanks, railroad coaches, heavy vehicles and other essentials to Britain and Russia. Britain was more self sufficient with industrial goods but the Battle of Britain would have long been lost without American food crops. Russia enjoyed a 2^nd industrial revolution of sorts during the war, with large production facilities shifting east from the traditional belt of Moscow-St. Petersburg-Kiev. However, the lightning quick pace of movement and starting of production units would have been impossible without American steel.

The formerly miserable ‘Okies’ or immigrants from Okhlahoma’s dust bowl were now eking a life of prosperity in California. While Europe, Asia and north Africa were ravaged by warfare, America sacrificed by sending its men out to war. But on the home front, America ended the war with an economy marginally smaller than the rest of the world combined.

Football: Mahabharata Way

Continuing on the theme of getting my blog to work again I am posting this article which I had written quite some time back. But it is a decent read so here it goes. A crazy idea once struck me and I decided to merge an article on two things which fascinate me a lot- Indian Mythology and Football. I have tried to create an article encompassing these two passions together.

The heroes in the Mahabharata were remarkable characters in every sense of the word. I say heroes because this is the only work of the ancient world which does not give a clear demarcation between good and bad, plus and minus and all other diametrical opposites. In many ways it is the oldest version of objective journalism, something which we are still struggling to achieve. So why cannot these characters from the epic play the Beautiful Game. Okay it is the virile Englishmen who framed the rules of the world game, and then the Brazilians probably perfected it. But in India we have always been romantic about the past and about history. We always tend to see the past as an ideal age, so lets just think for once what would have happened if all the Mahabharata characters would actually have got down to testing themselves out on the football pitch. Following is the detailed description of the team I would have played if I had been the greatest Acharya ever-Drona.

The team would have played a modern day 4-2-3-1. Yudhishthira was the custodian of all the virtues which made our land celebrated by the Greek travelers in Antiquity. So he will have to keep goal for my ‘dream team’. I have gone for a combination of sheer strength and wisdom at the centre of my defense. Lord Balarama will be there to win all the headers and to topple any opponent trying a trick too many. Balarama wasn’t always the most headstrong of characters, so the wise patriarch Bheeshma becomes a necessity to complete the heart of the defense. The son of Mother Ganga was the wisest man in his generation, even the battle field on Kurukshetra remained untainted as long as he was leading one side of the confrontation. In probably the saddest scene of the entire epic, Bheeshma comes face to face with Arjuna, his favourite nephew. Thankfully this time they will all be on the same side. Perhaps no worldly treasure is worth fighting your own blood as Arjuna said at the time of this greatest tribulation, but perhaps no worldly fight could be bigger than if the entire clan is involved on the same side. Now coming on to the full backs. Nakula and Sahdeva for all their worthy deeds will perhaps always be confined to supporting roles. So from their full back positions the twins will maraud the wings supporting the more illustrious wingers, and while defending they shall lend a helping hand to the senior centre halves. The midfield generals will be Bheema and Ashwatthama. Bheema was the font of courage and someone who never cared for political niceties. In times of trouble he was often someone who took up the fight alone to the opposition. Similarly, on the football pitch the midfielder has to co-ordinate the entire team and drive the team forward at times of distress. One can imagine the box-to-box Bheema defending at one point and then immediately running with all his energy towards the opposition before giving the ball to more gifted players. He will also make those crunching tackles so important in a game and break up the opposition’s play. Partnering him in midfield will be Drona’s very own son Ashwatthama. The latter will be the coach’s eyes and ears on the pitch. He always possessed a healthy envy to the Pandavas from a young age. This will sting him to impress against the opposition at the same time maintaining his father’s discipline. His ethereal pace and intelligence will make him Bheema’s ideal foil, as a deep lying play maker and neat passer.

The last furlong of the team will have probably the four most famous personalities from the Mahabharata. Needless to say Krishna has to be on the wing with his brother from a bygone era-Arjuna- occupying the other flank. Krishna’s trickery and winking genius can actually be picturised. Step-overs, cutting in then going out, then coming back in and then out again, mesmerizing the opposition defense, he will be the ultimate showman for the team. His touches will be fewer in the game, but the ones he will take ought to be nothing short of sublime. Arjuna will be less showy but equally effective on the other flank, the intended torment of the opposition might be slightly lesser. But who knows the presence of a certain dark beauty in the stands might just get the mischievous side out of him too. Arjuna will start left because of his ambidextrous nature, perhaps he will also be two footed. Drona will have to ensure that happens. And then finally we come to the front attacking two. Brace yourself for the best attack combination the world has ever known. Telepathy is a word to be used for lesser mortals, not the son of Surya Deva on one side and the eldest of the Kauravas on the other. This will also be one of the most emotionally charged attacking pairs ever. The night when Karna was taken away from mortal life, was the worst in the whole life of Duryodhana. He took the death of his own brothers as the play of Fate, but could never reconcile himself to the death of a friend who gave away his life for him. Life had been extremely cruel to Karna, but in Duryodhana he found an ally who was always there for him, in both sorrow and joy. Karna announced himself to the world by stunning the pride of Arjuna on a day of a competition, but being appreciated was not to be his fate. It was Duryodhana indeed who reminded the world that origins do not matter. The great Ganga river starts as a small trickle not even a meager stream. Great men are all born as little babies, no one is born full grown but a Kshatriya is one who proves himself to be one through his deeds in life. Karna had proven himself to be all this and much more. Now Karna and Duryodhana have the chance to be together for one more time and this time to create magic on the football pitch. Duryodhana would be the target man around whom the three creative wizards would weave their magic.

The coach of course will be Drona, with Acharya Kripa his second in command. Bheeshma will lead the side out of the tunnel. Vaisampayana and Sanjaya would be doing the commentary dishing out the story to the gods and goddesses of the highest altar.

Opposition will have to be quality enough to be able to challenge these starts. Let us invite the Greek gods and heroes from the Iliad & Odyssey series to compete. More on that team later when we discuss the opposition’s line up in detail. The lineup of the Mahabharata team is as follows-:

Yudhishthira

Nakula Balarama Bheeshma Sahdeva

Ashwatthama Bheema

Krishna Karna Arjuna

Duryodhana

End Of My Hiatus

A blog can so often mirror a person. The blog writer (let’s call him the writer here) writes on topics close to his/her heart and on issues important to the person at the particular stage in life. If what I have just written is remotely correct, then I have an eerie feeling that on how I will be judged. I used to be a decent writer, at least I claimed I was good. I used to write on myriad topics ranging from football to history to personal life. Notice the phrase ‘used to’. Yes that’s correct. I haven’t written for so long that I am fearful what this present blog will produce. But this is it. My slumber of more than a year has been broken. Over the next few articles I shall write on a number of topics which I have been thinking on for quite some time. But let the first of those just be an apology for this long hiatus and a promise for more to come. I end my blog here and hopefully somebody will read it. But be prepared for the slew of articles coming your way soon!

Travels and the Great Tree

Travels often bring out the best in people. Even the most mundane of daily travels can have a stimulating effect on the mind. For me, it is always the outrageous which plays in my mind while journeying. Lately I was fortunate enough to visit some parts of Madhya Pradesh state’s forest belt. A friend of mine pointed to a big banyan tree and proclaimed it to be over 300-400 years old. This triggered a slew of ideas in my mind. What if by some way, we can make the tree to talk? If by some way, I can just communicate with it.
If it is 300 year old then did the banyan witness the Battle of Plassey from its heights atop the hill? It must have seen the epic battles between the Marathas and Ahmad Shah Abdali. It must have wept with all of us, when Delhi turned red after Nadir Shah’s carnage on the city. Climbing a bit more the top branches might as well have caught a glimpse of America’s freedom struggle or even seen Bismarck’s war cries. So much can be learnt from the tree if I can only talk to her once.
Better even if the tree –lets name it B- is 400 years old. So much information must be stored on every pore of B’s body. She must have witnessed the landing of the first British ships in India. I wonder how B will rate the making of “Jodha Akbar”.
If I can only have a date with the 400 year old Banyan tree! I will extract information not known otherwise, and I shall become famous instantly. More than meager fame, it is the glory of seeing the world from up the Vindhyas for the period of 400 years that makes this the greatest of all journeys.

The Holy Cow!

I am the Holy Cow of India
The envy of all other quadrupeds
I am treated like a god king here
The great Homo Sapien stoops before me


I had a king’s upbringing
Was born off a junkyard in New Delhi’s glitziest district
Did my schooling off slums
Where young innocent minds showered me with the reddest of bricks


For food I was always pampered
No boring green leafy vegetables or simple hay for me
I had the best of junk food
Spicy Continental Banana skins garnished on polythene packs


My mom called me one day and told me about a dream land nearby
She told me of a place on the foothills of mountains where flowed the sacred Ganga
It was the holiest of cities in India
Our kind are particularly given royal treatment there


So I went along dreaming of all the pleasures
I felt welcome when a picture of a sister was embedded on stone
So I went in looking for the priest’s blessings
I was blessed by his wooden rod, holier than all of humanity


I know I am a protected animal here
My life is guaranteed
Pity my brothers elsewhere
Who are fed and nourished only to fall prey with life still in them


I will continue to flourish till the body finally gives way
Till then I shall enjoy the best of junk- and all that for free
Who needs a McDonald’s or Wimpy’s
I am the Holiest of Holy Cows in India

Th Strange Choice!

We witnessed a lot of hype over Hillary Clinton’s nomination to run for the post of Presidential candidate from the Democrat Party in the US recently. It is indeed an achievement for any human being whatsoever to rise to the position of being a semi-finalist in the race to be the world’s most powerful person. And for this alone, she should get a lot of respect from the public in general. But to claim that she was a messiah for women kind and that she was a solitary female representative in a male world is ludicrous at the least. Yes she is a woman, but then dare we forget she is the wife of Bill Clinton who was America’s President not so long ago, and in fact still remains among the most popular ones ever.

Now late us take the case of another woman leader in a different part of the world. The name is Mayawati Naina Kumari, presently the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh. She was born in the lowest rung of society, and is now the leader of India’s largest and perhaps most influential sate. Here I’m not trying to be an advocate of caste politics or dalit-socialism, but I’m only trying to gauge the mind of the so-called feminists who have put personalities like Hillary Clinton now and others like Indira Gandhi and Isabella Peron in the pasta s feminist icons. Mayawati had an economically impoverished childhood, and is not conventionally pretty looking a quality often required for women to reach the top in patriarchal societies. And yet presently she is the most powerful person in one of the most backward-patriarchal parts of the globe. I’m not suggesting that Mayawati is a morally superior personality, but if seen purely as a female symbol surely none can have better credentials. Perhaps her not being dressed elegantly could be a reason for this lack of appeal to the modern working women who then look for falser idols. Indira Gandhi’s suave English and Hillary Clinton’s Caucasian American look better fit into these stereotypes of so-called ‘breaking the glass barrier’ and all that.
But the truth is that if I had been a feminist, Mayawati would definitely have been my idol. She has consistently managed to kick men around successfully starting without a base point to launch her campaigns. Indeed without seemingly powerful intimate relationships of blood or flesh.