On modernity and religion

Inspite of being 29 years old and having spent 10 years in Delhi- I had never been inside a Gurudwara before. A chance visit there today left an impression on me of serenity, calmness, and interestingly-of religion keeping pace with modernity.

The event was a rendition of Guru Puran on account of death in the family of a senior colleague. Inside a traditional gurudwara in Greater Kailash I was fascinated to see a screen connected to a laptop. As and when priests chanted hymns in punjabi- the screen had translations in English and Hindi that people seated on the ground could easily follow. What was also heartening to notice was that the translations were timely, succinct, professional, and had no spelling/font bloopers.

Making religion simple lends a lot to making it more accessible. Given existing desperation in urban life for the poor and downtrodden- having something meaningful to hold onto would make life much worth living. Religion maybe false hope, but as I’ve realized over the years- many a times a prayer is all you have to hold onto. It does help if I can assign meaning to the prayer- even if it is in a power point slide within a temple. I hope we do get to see that someday too.

An encounter with a minister

On a cold winter morning, about a year and a half back, I was catching a flight back to Calcutta from Delhi. It was a usual back-to-work flight for me after having spent a weekend at home. I was travelling by Indigo- and had booked a front row aisle seat which I felt was most comfortable for an entry and exit from the aircraft. I was early- and had to make way for a middle aged couple who took up the seats next to mine. The Gentleman in the middle and the lady to the window.

The first thing I noticed was the pile of newspapers for the day that both carried with them. Amongst themselves- they had probably a total of 9 publications and given that it was 6:30 AM in the morning- I could make out that they had something to do with public service.

The flight took off; I remained engrossed in my book, and except for the initial polite hello didn’t converse much. And perhaps wouldn’t have opened my mouth either- except for a PA announcement by the pilot on a sighting of Mount Everest through the left window which made me crane my neck to get a view- and for which the Gentleman very politely shifted. We had a clear sighting and it was an intriguing view-though we were cruising at 30000 feet and I knew from memory that Everest was 8 thousand something feet tall-it felt as if we were parallel to the mountain.

I voiced my surprise aloud and that was a conversation starter. He gave a confidant explanation of which I wasn’t convinced- but didn’t dispute. He enquired about my profession, and that led to perhaps one of the most hilarious exchange of credentials in my professional life till date.

Me(with a note of pride): “I am a consultant in PwC. What do you do?”

Him: “I am a minister in the Government of India.”

Me: “Oh”

He turned out to be Dinesh Trivedi- Minister of state for Health in Oct of 2010 and currently India’s Railway Minister. At that point of time- I did not know of him but later read reports that talked of him belonging to a rare breed of politicians in India who are sophisticated, suave, and at the same time have a connect with masses. In our subsequent discussion- I could see behaviors which would vouch for all of the above.

He was inquisitive and curious to know more. He wanted to know more about Assam and what’s happening there- what works and what does not. I talked to him about the 108 Ambulence service and how that has been a transformational initiative. He had an evolved view on corruption and how it did not matter in the long run- as long as people deliver what they promise in the end. The backdrop was the ongoing Commonwealth Games organized by his government which had gotten off to a good start inspite of massive corruption. He was curious about what the business community thought of Bengal- and humbly sought my opinions on the same. Though his party was considered anti-industry at that moment- he took pains to explain that it wasn’t so to me. In fact the suggested that I see the latest Hollywood movie of the moment- the sequel to “Wall Street”- which I remember thinking was quiet ironic.

As for his energy levels and humbleness-one incident stands out in memory. There was an elderly and obviously poor man who was on a flight for the very first time and he could not figure out how to use the lavatory door and was struggling with it. Mr Trivedi saw that and immediately jumped out of his seat, opened the door for him, and also waited outside patiently till the man finished his business and then he helped him back to his seat. I was floored- realizing that it was a minister of the Government of India doing this!

As I write this, I realize today in the 26’th of January. Mr Trivedi- I also realize our republic needs a lot more ministers like you.

The dilemma of my bookshelf

Finally I have a book shelf to myself. To a book lover but a non-collector of things it can be quite a disconcerting thing.

Its not really spacious- nor does it have a lot of partitions- just 4 shelves where I can finally display and arrange some of the few things which are precious to me. Instead of having them gathering dust underneath the divan or haphazardly locked up on the top shelf of a wooden cabinet. So last weekend was a happy time putting it all behind a nice glass case in the drawing room. Neatly arranged for display by authors. The bottom shelf for Booker prize winners- one top shelf for authors of whom I have more than one book of. Also- some space for inevitable junk and pulp fiction which piles up.

I'd like to believe I've never been a collector of anything in my life- and I hope I shall never get that urge. I intensely feel there's something very vulgar in that act of drawing boundaries and demarcating 'this is mine..while you view and envy..i shall gloat'. Or you may simply put it down to lack of ambition. For whichever cause- I've always wanted to leverage and share whatever little I had to momentarily lay my hands on some thing which is pleasurable, joyous, yet very transitory. And then pass it on. Comic books, wrestling/cricket cards, music tapes, everything.

Even when i graduated into started reading serious stuff-I'd never feel the urge to hold onto any of it.

So now- the book shelf is an interesting dilemma. Looking at all those books together gives me deep sense of peace and fulfilment. So much so that I've printed a photograph of it and kept it on my work desk. Just looking at those well told stories neatly nestled against each other makes me somehow feel I've done justice to the pleasure they gave me while reading them. But then- doesn't that also make me a collector now?

Sense of an ending

Its not a good story. In a traditional sense of a story.

The plot is the past and an old man's moldy memory of it. Memory that's mutable. The past is what he makes of it. A life incident that has taken on a different shape with the passage of time. But then facts tumble out and his established past takes on an unsettling shape.

There are a few twists in the tale towards the end which are quite dramatic. But those by themselves do not make it a good story. So then- what does?

Is it his ideas about time and memory? Not by themselves- I say. And really- he's not talked about anything new there. Yes- the reader does develop an almost vicarious interest in the protagonists struggle to deal with uncomfortable incidents which arise from the depths of memory. But memory and its versions have been dealt with umpteen times before in literature. And mostly classified under the label 'Modern History'.

So is it the torn complacency of the protagonist which makes this a good read? Again- he does not come across as being too sorry a figure. A genuine do good-er- who seems to fall into an ever intriguing past the more he proceeds to set things in order.

Is it then the remorse that the reader identifies with? The underlying sense of helplessness arising from the inability to change whats happened in the past. Or perhaps it is a deep sense of foreboding arising from his curse which turns out to be true- almost word-by-word years after him almost ranting it out in frustration in an old letter.

Whatever it is that makes this book a good read is difficult to lay a finger on. But it is worth reading for sure.

As life moves on

There's an ad for a healthier cooking oil which i've been hearing on radio these days on my drive to work. Almost as if he were very sincerely selling it- a voice over promises a life filled with very usual, regular happenings in your life in the new year of 2012. Late night movies, a good book read, birthday surprises, marathon preparations, marriages within the family, warmth in relationships etc etc. It somehow manages to capture joy-de-vivre very sweetly.

That's the state I find myself in- in the beginning of year 2012. Life has moved on. Time has passed. Things have happened. Many a times- things have happened to me. Some times-I'd like to believe, I've pushed to make things happen. Some aspirations have been fulfilled. A lot still remains to aspire for.

When a baby is born, apparently there are some Chinese philosophers who go up and bless the child- 'may you have an ordinary life'. Increasingly- I can see the value in that.