A quick thought on respecting people who're old

I once asked myself if old people really deserve respect. Most of us have at least some respect for the men and women who're old (I have a lot), but I asked myself the reason why we do so and if it's justified.

John Forbes Nash and his wife Alicia, young.

I've concluded that yes, all old people, whether or not they've achieved something in life, deserve respect from people who're young. The fact that all old people have seen and sailed through the many facets of life, the highs and the lows, the pretty and the ugly, makes them worthy of respect. They might not be able to burn bright, but they hold much sense and wisdom. They might not have earned as much money as you, but they've surely earned more wisdom. They were all young once, and you will all be old one day.

John Forbes Nash, old.

P.S. Once again, I just queried this thought on Google and found that it has been discussed a lot!

British : Indians :: Punjabis : Non-Punjabis

I've often heard stories from others that individuals from the Indian subcontinent are mistreated in the UK (I've never been to the UK, so I've to assume that this is true). Since I'm an avid reader of Western publications (BBC, CNN, FT, NYT, TIME, WSJ, etc.), I've sometimes read comments such as "Indians have infested the entire universe!" on some articles about outsourcing.

What I've heard and read makes me feel that many British people (and by British, I'm referring to the broader West) hate the presence of people from the Indian subcontinent in their country. They hate that we've infested their country and are flouting their culture and norms. They don't like our skin color, our smell and our accent. They see us everywhere, they curse us, give us angry looks, sometimes even beat us up, and want us out.

Are their feelings unjustified?

At first I thought so, but over the last few months, I noticed something strikingly similar right in my own state, Punjab. Now, Punjabis are quite patriotic and proud people. We believe that we're superior to other people in India, and that no non-Punjabi can ever match the grandeur of a Punjabi. And like the UK has a large and growing population of people from the Indian subcontinent, Punjab has a large and growing population of individuals from other states (most notably, from Bihar and Uttar Pradesh).

And what's happening to Indians in the UK is similar to what happens to people from Bihar and UP in Punjab - those from Bihar or UP are cursed, beaten, mistreated, looked down upon, and generally given little respect by native Punjabis. I've heard fellow Punjabis exclaim that "These 'bhaiyas' have infested the whole of Ludhiana!".

And so, I've finally understood why the British feel the way they feel. How they feel isn't surprising anymore.

Sexism and gearless scooters

It was late morning of today, and I was driving, on the way to work. I stopped at the traffic signal and had a fairly young girl - she was probably 22 or something - stop to the right of my car. She was on a gearless scooter (one of Honda Activa, TVS Scooty, etc.). Waiting as we all were, my ever-wandering attention wandered to the fact that nearly every girl and woman who drives a two-wheeler in India drives one of the gearless scooters. Advertisements promoting such scooters virtually always pitch them to female drivers. The selling points? They're light, they're hep, they're colorful, they're peppy, they're feminine, and most importantly, they're gearless.

Does the preference for, and use of gearless scooters by girls and ladies symbolize that the weaker sex is indeed weak? Why are boys and men reluctant to drive gearless scooters? Does it make them less manly? Is there some kind of pride in driving a geared two-wheeler? Why don't girls drive geared scooters? Are gearless scooters meant for the girls?

I pondered over these questions, and at last I concluded - even though it might not be apparent to even the girls themselves - that girls have actually made a smart choice by opting for gearless scooters. I've driven a Kinetic Honda and a Honda Activa for many years, and they're hands down easier to drive than geared bikes/scooters. It takes less effort to drive these gearless scooters, which - if you analyze scientifically - puts less stress on your brain and keeps you more relaxed, mentally. In this case, keeps the ladies more relaxed.

So while the guys are busy rejecting gearless scooters in favor of the more complex geared vehicles, the girls have quietly and happily endorsed a simpler - but hardly less capable - technology. Scooter companies seem to love this uptake, as they're introducing many new models in India.

Just to be sure, as the traffic light turned green, the girl on the gearless scooter swiftly zipped ahead of my geared Swift.

Little cubs in safe hands

Watching the otherwise fierce lionesses display such care and tenderness gives me such a good feeling!

(Kenya; source)

(Kenya; source)

(Botswana; source: Punjab Kesari)

Why displaying desperation for Obama?

For some days now, I've been keenly following the developments related to President Osama's visit to India.

And I don't like the desperation being shown by Indian (and foreign) Sikhs to make the American President visit the Golden Temple during his visit to India. Agreed that's he's the President of the US. Agreed that he's a big shot. Agreed that in the US, Sikhs are frequently mistaken for Muslims. But don't you guys have any self-esteem? The way Sikhs - yes, this includes the highest Sikh bodies in Amritsar - are trying to pull Osama to the Golden Temple smacks of desperation.

I felt like a coward today. Like a loser. I felt ashamed of myself. And I cried.

I feel ashamed even writing this post. Don't know what's keeping my fingers moving.

"Death stands mute at the doors of the `maut ka kuan' where Dil Fariyad, Afzal Khan and Goutham perform the speed feat on three vehicles. The intuitively perfect calculation of time and speed by these daredevils from Ajmer in Rajasthan will sure keep time waiting for an eternity... To the question of fear of death, Jagdish Raj Sharma, owner of the visiting exhibition said rather philosophically, "Iska naam hi maut ka kuan hai. Maut hamesh hamare saath rahti hai. Vo to ooparvale ki marzi hai ki ham aj bhi zinda hai (The performance is called well of death. Death is alway beside us. However, it is the grace of God that we are still alive)."" - Defying death in `maut ka kuan', The Hindu, Dec'05

An hour back, me and my papa went to the Daresi Ground (Ludhiana) to watch the Dussehra Mela. As we were roaming, we were chatting about the danger and the possibility of a terrorist attack at Daresi Ground. We did a bit of shooting and then we moved on. A little later, we noticed a huge cylindrical chamber, the familiar maut ka kuan. Papa asked me if I wanted to see it. I wasn't that interested, but I said yes.

We both climbed the stairs and reached at that level of the frame where the wooden walls end. Papa and me both noticed that the walls are nearly vertical, and although we've both seen this particular performance at least once previously, we were both a bit surprised at the steepness of the walls.

There were two bikes and four Maruti 800 cars parked at the base, and we started waiting for the show to start. A few minutes later, a young man wearing a reddish shirt - he was probably not over 25 - entered the chamber through a door at the base of the cylinder and revved his bike a few times. The public's eyes got affixed on him. The excitement was increasing. Everyone was waiting for him the climb the walls of this death pit.

And he did. Within seconds he climbed the walls and started circling the near-vertical cylindrical chamber. The breadth and depth of the situation cannot be described in words. No photo, no video, no words have the power to describe the magnitude of risk that the young man took as he circled the circular wall. He continued to circle, even changing his configuration inflight. He rapidly pulled notes from onlookers who offered him bits of money, he freed both of his hands from the bike's steering, he even jiggled the bike - all while performing the already-incredible activity!

My legs started to shake. My eyes became wet. I didn't feel any thrill. No fun. Only sadness for these brave boys who carry their lives on their hands every second while they're performing. I say again, it's their insult to try to describe their magic in words. It can be felt only on watching a show in reality.

The young man finished his performance and climbed down the wall. My heart, which was beating rapidly for the last few minutes, started to come back to normal. Just then, I saw four more men enter the chamber on their bikes, and this group of five men started revving their bikes. I knew that this time they're gonna push even further. The men quickly started circling the chamber. They jiggled, made formations, performed, saluted, took notes, and did everything that they should not have been doing. I tried to hide and stop my tears. I felt helpless. Ashamed. Ashamed that I sometimes find it difficult to get out of a cozy, warm quilt. Well-fed, two phones, three computers, bank accounts, bank balance, credit and debit cards, my own car, I felt very ashamed of myself. As those young men circled the death pit, with their life hung by a fragile thread, I though about myself and felt ashamed.

When the boys finished the performance, I told papa that I'm not feeling good. That I can't, and don't want to see more of it. All these minutes, my papa had been feeling exactly as I had been feeling, and he agreed that we should leave. That the huge amount of concern that spontaneously develops for these men is more than what can be born. See, we can't even bear the concern. And they're doing it.

We climbed down the stairs as the bikes and cars started the composite performance. For the next many minutes, me and papa kept talking of these poor boys who are totally unaware of the magnitude of risk they're taking. Multiple times each day. Multiple days each week. Multiple weeks each year. Multiple places in India and elsewhere. I felt like I'm a loser. What have I done by walking away? I've only proved to myself that I don't even have the courage to watch these men put their lives at stake. What to talk of putting my life at stake? As I was walking away from the cylindrical chamber, I said to myself -"Main to bhagoda ban ke ja raha hu, back into my comfortable world. But that doesn't mean that this show will stop. Even if I won't see it doesn't mean that this cruel show won't continue to happen. The boys don't value their lives. They don't know how to make money, and so they will, again and again, put their young lives at stake. The show must go on.".

I feel so sorry for them. And it can't be described. It can only be felt if you know what can go wrong and what its consequences are gonna be. Those who don't understand engineering and physics have no fucking idea that these boys are putting life, LIFE at stake. And that there are SO MANY things that can go wrong.

One breakdown, or one mistake, and life shall painfully leave the shattered bodies. And how much do they get? A few hundred rupees? Just that? Yeah, that's what they get for this feat that only they can pull off.

This guy on YouTube probably watched a real performance. His words echo the sentiment that's in my heart at this moment:

"No halmet ho jackets just regular clothes no safety no training no timings just practise. THIS IS REAL STUNT. REAL DARE DEVILS"

Yes. That's what they are. REAL DARE DEVILS. But they're also the unsung heroes of the Third World. They won't get coverage on Discovery Channel. Documentaries won't be made on them. They won't get sponsors or co-sponsors. They don't have companies insuring their life. They don't have branded teams getting media coverage. Their families are as poor as they are. They don't have a medical team ready with first aid. They don't have money to pay for medication. Nobody's gonna pay for their treatment. They don't have those assurances that allow the rich to take more risk. They don't have any safety equipment. They have nearly zero money in their pockets but infinite courage and infinite energy. And a desire to earn a buck or two. They sport real smiles as they fearlessly circle the death pit. Smiles that feel like swords piercing through my heart. Smiles that make me realize that there's so much wrong in this world. That make me wonder why these boys are unfortunate. I'm unable to look at the smile of the man in the Maruti 800 in the photo above. I can't bear his fearless smile. It feels like a slap. Their families are not aware that each day, their sons, brothers, husbands and lovers beat death in a match against the relentless laws of physics. These men are not aware what friction or gravitation is. Or what force or momentum means. They use their gut, and their gut alone to pull incredible tricks. And amidst all the malls, the cars, the India Shining, the blitz, the development, the GDP growth, the Chandrayaan, and the news stories about the Arrival of India, these fearless, low-paid warriors will continue to beat death and entertain crowds for decades to come.

UPDATE [25-NOV-15]: A video on FB of this.

From divide and rule to divide and sell

Whenever I read news stories saying that the US has struck a deal to sell so many fighter jets to a country, because of apparent threat to that country (from its neighbors, etc.), I feel sad. Because in many of such cases, the so-called threat has been created by the US itself.

(source: Emirates 24|7)

The brilliant strategy followed by "America" can be summarized as follows: Create widespread belief that a particular nation is rogue and thus too dangerous, and then sell tens of billions worth of military equipment to that nation's neighbors. It's in the interest of the US to create controlled tension between different nations of the world, because it gets strong pretext to sell military equipment to the threatened nations. It's annoying to see the US express its desire to see issues between India and Pakistan get resolved, and then see it sell or attempt to sell military equipment to both the nations, further escalating the tension between the nations (culminating in an arms race, fueled both by one-upmanship and by "America").

It looks like a modern form of divide and rule - I call it divide and sell.

Institutions that work - Supreme Court of India

I've been keenly reading judgments given by Supreme Court of India for many years now. A little bit surprisingly, I've almost always agreed with its rulings (except on the matter of reservation in education and employment opportunities). I like that the Court thinks sensibly. Its observations and informed, rational and wise. It is one of the few institutions in India to be proud of.

My feelings on transporting an accident victim to a hospital (2)

After over a year, tonight I got the third opportunity to help an accident-victim. It's past midnight now, and about half hour back I was in my car with my buddy Vinayak, driving on the Ferozepur Road in Ludhiana. We were heading back home, the weather was good and the drive was smooth when Vinayak - who was probably looking at the right half of the road - suddenly uttered "Gaya! Gaya!" and within a second there were sparks on the road in front of us. A speeding car had rammed into a scooter, on which a boy and his mother were going back to their home (this car fled the scene).

Sensing that a serious accident had happened, we wasted no time and stopped my car right next to the semi-conscious lady. She had injuries on her face, nose, neck and chest, was bleeding profusely and seemed to have great difficulty breathing (blood was flowing out of her nose). With the help of some people who had stopped at the scene, we quickly loaded the victim on the back seat of the car, jumped in, and rushed to the nearby Raghunath Hospital (as requested by the lady's son). After handing over the victim to the emergency services personnel at the hospital, we left the scene.

Although what happened is unfortunate, I have satisfaction that I contributed to save a life, again. My plan of going where I (and Vinayak) had gone was unconfirmed initially, but it seems like it's fortunate that we went (although the Butterfly Effect says that if I had not gone to that place, the configuration of the road would have probably been very different, and the accident might not have happened at all).

Contra - my all-time favorite video game!

It's surprising that even though video games have advanced so much in the last 20 years, Contra continues to rule my mind, as ever :)

Contra promotional flyer