Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Demystifying Politics

Yesterday the Lokpal bill was passed by the Lok Sabha, albeit without some crucial changes proposed by Team Anna. Anna Hazare did not draw crowds this time around and today, he had to call off his agitation in the absence of popular visible support. Pranab Mukherjee gave a speech in Parliament which was much appreciated in the media. While arguing in favour of the composition of the selection panel as envisaged in the Lokpal Bill, (comprising of the PM, the leader of the Opposition, the Speaker, CJI or his nominee and eminent person nominated by the PM) he made this point that the PM and the Speaker enjoy the confidence of the majority of the members of the Lok Sabha and therefore the selection panel is truly representative of the people of the country. The PM himself in his speech defended the decision to put CBI outside the administrative control of the Lokpal on the ground that it would create an executive structure outside Parliament which is accountable to none.
            Circular reasoning or statesman like understanding – whichever way you may see it – but what was definitely driven home yesterday was the supremacy of electoral politics. The year long movement led by Anna Hazare, though, proved that there is also a space waiting to be created for those who want to influence the politics from outside it.  It is to the movement’s credit that it has politicised to some extent a significant section of the population which perceived politics as some alien fiefdom of people who were unlike them.
            Politics is a much abused term. Often it is confused with power. But politics is essentially about mobilising a large number of people for a common good. If politics were to be understood as a process, these would be its stages one following the other -
1.      The common good is first defined.
2.      Then a method or a solution to achieve it is proposed.
3.      The existing method or system in place is trashed to give a logical basis for pushing change.
4.      Thereafter people are mobilised around the idea or the principle.
5.      Power is sought to effect the desired change.
6.      Once power is achieved, would come the task of executing the idea/ plan.
Each of these sequential steps demands certain attributes from the participants in that process –
a.      Step 1 requires Vision.
b.      Step 2 – Knowledge
c.       Step 3 – Communication/ Propaganda
d.      Step 4 – Organisation
e.      Step 5 – Garnering votes (Electoral Politics)
f.        Step 6 – Execution/ Administration
Everyone who is placed at any of the six stages mentioned above is a political being. The media, members of the civil society, the bureaucrat, the political party worker, the subject matter experts influencing policy making are all, in that sense, political beings. And the one who is able to navigate through all the six stages is a politician. Of course, he cannot navigate all alone. He is surely dependent on the support of aides and associates at each stage in the process of politics. But he must understand the nuances of each stage himself or else he won’t command the respect of his aides and associates. But more than anything else, he must be able to draw several people to himself some of whom would eventually become part of his team.
In this vision of politics, what is absolutely indispensible is vision, leadership, team and organisation. These are also those facets which ought to be incorruptible if the politics were to remain true to its cause.  Communication and electoral politics come under the realm of “means to an end” and therefore have to be tolerant towards seemingly unethical positions or methods. This is where a “do what it takes” approach is required. And yet the “means” also shape the organisation and can also limit the autonomy of the vision with which the entire process started. These two stages in politics, therefore, demands pragmatism at its very best.
We can all therefore become political beings. There is absolutely nothing elitist about politics. The choice that has to be made is as to where in the six stage process one finds his or her capacities best utilised. And once that choice is made, it is either about joining a leader with whom you identify more than others or it is about joining hands with others similarly placed at one of the six stages in the process in order to influence and persuade the whole system from outside. For the essence of politics is to harness the power of collectivism for collective good.

Monday, December 26, 2011

Where are the people with intent?

I’ll begin by narrating a few interesting threads from a discussion I had with my colleague in office today. He told me about this boy from his father’s native village who showed a flair for arithmetic at a very young age. He could do complex arithmetical calculations fairly swiftly. He was of the same age as my colleague, but was born into an extremely poor family. My colleague remembered that his father would often cite this boy’s example to tell him how poor he was at arithmetic. And therefore he was always envious of this boy. But all that was many years ago when they were both young kids. He met this boy after a long time when he went to visit his village after completing his tenth exams. And he asked him what he was doing these days. He recalled that when his village peer told him that he was pulling a rickshaw in Delhi for a living, he felt a strong sense of disgust at the inherent unfairness in the contrasting ways in which their lives had unfolded. And as he was saying this, I saw his eyes holding back tears behind his spectacles. That day he would have understood, probably for the first time, the value of opportunity.
            We would have all experienced or known something similar at some point of time in our lives as well. And yet so often we mistake opportunity for achievement and then create an undeserving halo around ourselves. Little do we realise when the halo around our head gently slips and falls around our feet...a halo marking out the pit on the ground into which we are destined to sink for the rest of our lives. I wonder if it is because we learn to stop engaging with things other than the ones which find their way to us on their own.
            When my colleague confided in me that one day he dreamt of starting a school of his own, I was immediately curious to know the contours of his plan. He said he wanted to start a normal kind of school...nothing to do with innovative teaching methods or anything...a school in a very traditional kind of mould, geared to give its students the skill and preparedness to do well in the existing board exams and entrance exams. The only thing which he was particular about was that the school fees should be low...catering to the needs of children born into families with income less than twenty thousand rupees per month. His reading was that there was a huge unmet demand for such schools in several small towns and villages across the country. Schools were either too costly for people from this income bracket to afford or at the other end of the spectrum were government schools which were in total disarray. His analysis that government schools were in such poor shape because anybody who has a voice and who can question the poor quality of delivery does not send his or her children to the government school did seem rational to me. He drew the analogy of low cost no frills airlines to explain the fundamental theme behind the kind of school that he had conceived. His observation was that there were many who could work their way around even an average quality of teaching and that access to a decent school environment was their only bottleneck. And how would this school compete with schools with much higher fees and consequently better quality of teachers and teaching, especially when the end objective was to deliver results on the same parameters like success in board exams or entrance exams? He felt that the school’s USP would be its students...there were many students from such low income families who were hungrier to do well than others. Access or opportunity, however basic it may be, was their sole bottleneck and his school would just fill the gap between an existing demand and an insufficient supply. Of course, it would not able to reach children from even poorer families but then wasn’t it better than doing nothing at all? Since the success of the school would depend so much on the results of its students...so it was a long timeline on which the idea and his methods would be tested. I thought it was then so important to constantly stay engaged with the idea that one wants to see happen...and I quietly wished me the very best.
            Off and on, I meet so many young people who are restless to do something more than what has found a way to them on the back of the opportunity that they were born with and yet the restlessness does not spill over to doing anything concrete. Is it because they don’t stay engaged to their idea long enough and deep enough? Imran Khan spent fifteen years in political wilderness before he started drawing the crowds that he is currently drawing. I guess he stuck out his neck and simply stayed there long enough to start to matter.
            The more I see the system from within, the more I realise the most important missing link. Like for example in the development sector, we have hundreds of policies and several of them are designed well. There’s no dearth of subject matter experts. There’s no anarchy either and what more, we have a system staffed with reasonably pliant people...the only missing link then could be will. There’s a crying need for people with will and intent to infiltrate the system both from within and without. Only if we could engage with the system...long enough to start to matter...

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

The Lokpal Debate - Things to watch out for in the Coming Week

The Lokpal Bill is going to be tabled in Parliament tomorrow. What have been the pillars around which the entire debate has evolved? And what is the likely position in the Bill to be tabled tomorrow as per available media reports? Mainly these –
1.      How to ensure that the institution of Lokpal is both powerful and independent? To achieve that, the following is generally understood to be critical –
·        Administrative and financial independence of the institution
·        Broad based method of selection of members of the Lokpal
2.      Whether the PM and the judiciary should be covered under the scope of Lokpal?
3.      Whether or not Group B & C employees should be included under the scope of Lokpal?
4.      Whether or not grievance redressal should be within ambit of role of Lokpal?
5.      How to create similar institution (Lokayukta) at the state level?
6.      How to ensure speedy trial in corruption cases and strengthen the punishment mechanism for the offenders?
The way consensus around some of the above mentioned issues has evolved between both camps and as things stand today, some of these issues have ceased to be so.  These are –
·        The PM will come within the scope of Lokpal and the judiciary will be kept outside its purview.
·        Complaints of corruption against Group B & C employees will continue to be dealt by Central Vigilance Commission (CVC) with only a supervisory role envisaged for the Lokpal. Given the fact that the CVC itself is largely an advisory and supervisory body and the complaints at the ground level are dealt by internal Vigilance Divisions within each public organisation/ department, this in effect implies that for all practical purposes investigation of complaints of corruption against Group B & C employees will be outside the effective purview of Lokpal, in a way enabling the institution to remain focused on corruption in the higher echelons of the executive.
·        The task of creation of Lokayuktas in states will be left to the respective state legislatures since creation of the same by Union Parliament would amount to disturbing the federal character. This in effect means that the battle for setting up of Lokayuktas to probe corruption against state government officials has to be taken to the respective states.
Therefore, the main issues to watch out for when the bill is tabled tomorrow and thereafter when debate rages around it both inside Parliament and outside it are the remaining i.e. –
·        Administrative and financial independence of Lokpal – and that brings us to the main point of contention. Whether or not CBI should be under the administrative control of the Lokpal? The bill says no. And that is a critical let down. Let us clear the air on this first. What is required to be placed under the administrative control of Lokpal is the anti-corruption branch of CBI alone and not the organisation in its entirety. Administrative control would give Lokpal powers to select officers to be posted in CBI as also to transfer them or penalise the erring officers. It would also imply that the Lokpal can be independant and shielded from influence of the government of the day.  The government bill has merely inserted a provision saying that CBI shall not be answerable to the Ministry or the Lokpal during the course of any investigation on the merits of such investigation. (the intended purpose, if any, is likely to be lost to the ambiguous technicalities built into this provision) Otherwise it has only given supervisory functions to Lokpal over investigations done by CBI. The Lokpal can only enquire into a complaint and report the same to CBI for further investigations. This is indeed recipe for a toothless body that the government might be proposing tomorrow.
·        Manner of selection of Lokpal members – the panel for selection as proposed by the government appears to be heavily skewed in favour of the government of the day. The panel must be broad based in order to give a fair chance to building an independent institution manned by relatively non-partisan people at its very top.
·        As regards grievance redressal, the government has introduced a separate bill called Citizen’s Charter and Redressal of Grievances Bill. The good part is that this bill requires every public department to lay down timelines for rendering various services to citizens. Complaints against non-compliance with such timelines can be addressed to a designated Grievance Redressal Officer within the same department who has to attend to the complaint within 30 days. Next level of appeal lies with the head of that department and thereafter with new grievance redressal commissions being created at the state and national levels. Team Anna had instead proposed that action against complaints be taken by a judicial officer appointed at the local level who in turn would come under the administrative control of the Lokpal. The fate of this bill needs to be watched with interest along with Lokpal Bill simply because the concept of timelines for services to be rendered by public departments being introduced through this legislation has far reaching positive implications. Two specific items on the watch list could be – one, whether penalties proposed in this new law for non-compliance with time lines are strong enough to create deterrence and two, whether the system for grievance redressal proposed by the government is too centralised to be effective.
·        Last but not the least, the one issue which appears to have slipped into background but which is extremely critical is - what are the provisions in the Lokpal Bill for ensuring speedy trial in corruption cases and what is the punishment mechanism for offenders proposed and whether it is strong enough?
Meanwhile, we can all try and understand that Anna needs to do what he is doing because the interest in the issue has to kept alive lest we get cowed down by high sounding arguments about supremacy of Parliament or technical nitty grittys of law making and miss the point...once again.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Right to Education and So Much More...

The Right of Children to Free and Compulsory Education Act (RTE) enacted by the Union Parliament came into effect from 1st April 2010. The crux of the legislation is that it makes mandatory for the state to provide free and compulsory education to all children between the six and fourteen years of age at a neighbourhood school. Amongst other things, the legislation sets benchmarks for the quality of education to be imparted in terms of school infrastructure, learning equipments and number and quality of teachers. If this law is to be implemented in its letter and spirit, it would require a massive deployment of resources – financial resources for meeting the objective of setting up large number of neighbourhood schools i.e. schools within 1-3 km from the homes of children and manpower resources in terms of number of teachers to man those schools – for in both these respects the gap between what exists and what is desired is huge. That is if we forget the next level challenges of quality and commitment of manpower. The law gives the state three years time to set up such neighbourhood schools, of which a year and a half has already lapsed.
So much as far as the broad contours of the legislation is concerned. But then the devil is always in the details. The legislation has been passed by the Union Parliament but as is the case with all legislations, the law per se defines only the broad parameters. These broad parameters have to be then supported by rules which define the various finer details which are left by the legislature to be drafted by the executive i.e. the Cabinet and the bureaucrats. In the case of the RTE, the Union Parliament has only passed the main law but left it to the individual state governments to frame rules to support the legislation. As things stand today, one and half years after the law was enacted only about 20 states have framed the rules which in effect means that the remaining states have not even taken baby steps towards implementing the legislation. And considering the huge deployment of resources and setting up of processes and infrastructure at various levels which even an attempt at implementing this legislation requires, this state of inertia is remarkably poor. What is more worrying is that it is the bigger states such as Tamil Nadu, Karnataka, Maharashtra, Gujarat and West Bengal which have not yet framed rules to the RTE Act.
The provision in RTE Act which has been most in the news and which is also being held up as the reason behind some states going slow on framing rules is the one relating to all private schools having to reserve 25% of its seats for children from economically weaker sections of society (EWS) in the neighbourhood. As per the RTE Act, the state would reimburse such schools by paying them at the rate of average expenditure incurred on the education of a child by the state which might be less than the fees that the private school would have otherwise charged from any other student, even if the element of capitation fees charged at the time of admission is ignored. The devil, as always, will lie in the detail – at what rate the private schools will be reimbursed will be notified separately by the respective state governments. But in any case the scope for profiteering by the private schools, whether in the garb of capitation fees or annual fee hikes, will be definitely reduced to that extent. The private schools have come together in several cities, including New Delhi and Bangalore and have challenged this particular provision in the RTE Act.  The matter, as of now, is pending for adjudication before a constitution bench of the Supreme Court.
This particular provision in the RTE Act, to my mind, is a brave piece of legislation. Its genesis might have been rooted in the problem of not having sufficient number of government schools to be able to impart the promised education to all children but it has nevertheless potential for far reaching consequences. It will not only open windows of access to a quality of education better than that imparted in most government schools for children belonging to EWS, but will also bring a certain diversity to the teaching and learning environment in schools. Many parents from the well-to-do class of society are apprehensive about the fact that their children will share space with children from an entirely different background and with habits and priorities very different from those that they would like their children to have. But then the state must think differently from an individual for its perspective and priorities are different from those of individuals. This particular provision in the RTE Act has immense potential to promote a more inclusive and accommodating society in the long run. It helps no one’s cause to bury your head deep into the ground like an ostrich and not see what is around and real, which is what the gated communities, heavily overpriced multiplexes and exclusive shopping malls are forcing us to believe. More true for children who were born into this lifestyle of exclusivity (or isolation, as you may see it) than for somebody who has seen both sides of the fence. Studying with or being friends with somebody belonging to a family with needs, goals, habits entirely different from yours can be a learning experience for both – an experience which has a better chance to crystallise into a maturity that comes from being aware of differences and of reality, whether good, bad or ugly. It shall make the younger generation, especially the privileged lot, more aware of the context in which we live – we are still a poor country with millions of people living in unacceptable conditions of poverty – and how this context is different, very different from the make believe world that the exclusive schools, apartments, malls and multiplexes would want us to imagine.
Of course all of this is largely an urban phenomenon but then given how the cities have always been pivotal hinges around which widespread social changes have taken root and spread into the countryside around it, it makes sense to make a mountain out of the molehill that the provision relating to reservation for EWS children might appear at first thought. And yes, there is no denying that this experiment is likely to open up several new points of conflict – between the state and the private schools, the parents and the state, the parents and the schools and between children belonging to altogether different sections of society – but then dealing with an issue is always a better bet in the long run than denying it altogether. After all peace, as somebody told me and I remembered, comes not from absence of conflict but from dealing with conflict.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Stories from Manesar, Kadapa and elsewhere

Aman Sethi’s essay in today’s Hindu aptly titled “Gone in 50 seconds” goes on to describe how the speeding up of its assembly line at Manesar brought Maruti to a screeching halt. A fifty second assembly line translates into the plant rolling out 1152 cars every day over two shifts of eight hours each. I found the starting paragraph particularly fascinating where he says “On most days in this industrial suburb of Delhi, a phalanx of robotic arms weld sheets of pressed steel into silvery monocoque body shells that emerge from the paint shop in shades of arctic pearl white, glistening grey, blazing red and midnight black.” The sum and substance of the essay is captured in one particular paragraph where he writes “For a worker, line acceleration can be a harrowing experience. When I first began working for Maruti, assembly lines used to run right through my dreams, said a worker with a laugh and continued that, these days I suppose I am so tired that I don’t get dreams anymore.”
A few days earlier, I was standing on the terrace of a 15 storeyed high rise apartment with Azhar and Saddam. They were construction workers employed with the Delhi-based contractor firm which was to build the planned massive residential project comprising of five imposing towers of which only one had been completed and occupied so far. From atop the terrace of this sole completed tower you could see the landscape all around – a landscape dotted with half-finished buildings, tall cranes, massive earth movers and scores of workers with yellow coloured helmets sitting pretty on their still heads as they went about cementing the foundation of a neighbouring tower. A little further away you could see a few abandoned semi-constructed buildings, a famished water body and a colony of tin sheds clustered together in no particular pattern. Azhar was in his late 20s while Saddam was much younger. Both were from Kishanganj in Bihar. When I walked into the terrace, I found Azhar standing alone, leaning lightly against the parapet and looking down peacefully from the vantage point that he was in. After I had viewed the landscape all around and spent a few quiet moments looking into the skyline of a city transforming itself into now familiar shapes and colours of concrete towers, I felt the urge to strike a conversation with my quiet companion and contemporary. Azhar dropped his reticence at the first opportunity and showed much interest in the ensuing conversation. He told me that he was in this line of work since the last ten years and that he had stayed and worked in Delhi, Hyderabad and Bangalore in all these years. He promptly counted five localities in Bangalore where he had stayed and worked in the last eleven months. He did painting work for which he was paid Rs. 300 for every eight hours of work in a day. Besides, he was also getting overtime wages at the same rate for every additional 8 hours of work. He said that he and his colleagues ended up working 12-16 hours every day and added that they did not mind it because there wasn’t any other “time-pass” for them at that place anyway. I think he smiled when he said that his work is his “time-pass.”
By this time a boyish looking Saddam joined him and it was then that they told me that they are both from Kishanganj. How often do they go home? They said that they do get to go back to their home for 15-20 days after every six to eight months but I noticed that they said it without much enthusiasm in their voice or demeanour, which is what I had expected when I had asked them about their native place. How was living in the city like? Not bad, Azhar said. Then with a slight hesitation in his voice he added “except that I have to live in a jhuggi.” And then he pointed out to that colony of tin sheds and said “that’s where we live.” Each tin shed shared by 3-4 persons. Every morning he and his colleagues are at the worksite by eight. But before they arrive for their duties, they cook their meals for the rest of the day (each house mate does it by turns) and carry the same to their work site. By the time they return to their tin shed most of the lights in the only completed tower would have gone off. And they have little unspent energy to brood upon such trivialities like having to live in a jhuggi. Today morning when I read about the worker in the Maruti factory who would return home so tired that he didn’t get dreams anymore, my mind scampered off to a distant terrace of a fifteen storeyed tower.
In the beginning of this week, I met Muneer on an autorickshaw. He was driving it. Muneer happened to forget taking a critical turn (critical considering the number of one-ways in Bangalore) en route to my destination. Both of us realised it soon after but by then it was too late for a course correction. So we made light of it and Muneer explained how he went ahead in one particular direction because every day he happened to ferry his passengers in that direction. On a route clogged with vehicles it is indeed sometimes difficult to distinguish one road from the other or one traffic signal from the next. They all look alike – restless, distraught and noisy. Muneer went on to describe how the city has transformed itself over the years and how lives have changed. He explained how he and his entire family could have a full meal for ten rupees not long back, and now you do not even get a packet of milk for that much. He said he earns an average of Rs. 500 every day after working for nearly 12 hours in a day and ends up spending Rs. 400 out of it, despite his devout way of life. He went on to describe in his own colourful style as to how the city had been ruined because of the influx of Biharis. (this after he had confirmed that I was a native of Bengal and he had said a few good words about Bengalis in general) Why Biharis, I asked? Because the locals here got hooked on to Manikchand (gutka) after they were introduced to it by the Biharis. The Biharis have swarmed the city, he said. All the construction workers are Biharis. I asked him why. He said because if a local is even spoken roughly to he will not turn up for work the next day, whereas the Biharis – even if they are shouted at, abused and made to over work – they refuse to leave. His generalisations apart, I felt that Muneer’s surmises about how the job market right at the bottom of the pyramid functions was not very far from reality. I am grateful that he told all of this to me in a very jocular vein and not with the sense of despondency that it deserves.
As deftly as Muneer had explained the decline of purchasing power of rupee, Raju who works as a driver at my office explained the logic behind migration from rural countryside into urban jungles such as Bangalore. In his village in Kadapa district in Andhra Pradesh, if one has an acre of land and he sows groundnut he will extract a maximum of 1000 kilograms of groundnut. This he has to sell at Rs. 600 per quintal which translates into a meagre income of Rs. 6000. He did not forget to underline the irony that the groundnut which the farmer in Kadapa sells at Rs. 6 per kg is bought from hawkers in Bangalore for Rs. 5 for 50 grams. He went on to explain that agriculture in his village and in so many other regions of Rayalseema is not irrigation-driven and is therefore wholly dependant on the rains which must not only be sufficient but should also come at the right times during the crop cycle. Five years ago the farmers went on to install borewells to draw water from the underlying water table but in no time the borewells fell into disuse because the water table beneath did not have much to offer. Does it not make sense then, he asks, to desert the villages and come to cities looking for work? Any kind of work in any kind of conditions. Would they then bother about such trivialities like having to live in a jhuggi, I wonder.
Meanwhile, when it gets very hot in the afternoons or very dusty and noisy at the traffic signals, I pull up the tinted windows of my car, switch on the air-conditioner and play some soft music. And I try hard to forget that there is a world outside my car of which I am a part and which is a part of me....

Sunday, October 23, 2011

The World This Week

The burden of contemporary management perspective of quantifying performance weighs down heavily on law enforcement agencies such as the one for which I work. Not all kinds of work are immediately quantifiable – it is then important to realise and accept an inevitable time lapse between the start of such work and bringing it to a logical and enforceable conclusion. That time lapse sometimes could be several years during which time the work started by one agency would move across several agencies, each of which have been tasked with a specific function to perform. So while one agency would investigate and bring the factual evidence on record, another agency would relate the available evidence to specific violations of the legislation in question and quantify the penalty and yet another agency would present the factual and legal issues and defend the action taken in the various courts of law which the aggrieved is entitled to move against the penalty imposed. And all these agencies would be manned by several people and different people at different points of time. So while the nature of the work is such that it has to be viewed and appraised in a continuum, each part doing its bit to realise the end goal, yet the pressure (or should I say the norm) to quantify performance weighs so heavily that each agency and each person in that continuum must necessarily reduce its efforts to a quantifiable number even at the cost of a premature and flawed evaluation. Thus we have numerous islands in the form of different agencies, each separate from the other and boasting a number that bestows upon it the glory of self-perceived excellence and each led by a proud chieftain who must also compete and outperform the other chieftains.
The end result is that there is little cohesiveness in the efforts of various agencies, though each is designed to live off the other. The intended design of having several cogs in the wheel, each working in tandem, is replaced by several wheels each big in size and standing apart from each other. What the obsession with the number also does is that it encourages a shallow and compromised approach in which the realisation of the target is more dependent on the goodwill of the accused than it is on the efforts of the investigator. So the organisation ends up having only managers and few leaders. Who then would care for building institutions and for the prestige and credibility of the organisation and about dangers of erosion of authority which is implicit in an approach built on the edifice of compromise?
The question that comes to my mind is that whether law enforcement can be seen divorced from the context in which it operates. And the context being what it is in India, where corruption is widespread, politician-bureaucrat-businessman nexus is ever increasing and grievance redressal and justice delivery mechanisms are weak, is it not inevitable that law enforcement itself has to be done in a compromised manner because the law cannot be seen and enforced in isolation and apart from the context in which it operates – a context which often encourages and even incentivises violation of law? The context feeds the system and the system feeds the context, and therefore we must inevitably end up with imperfect systems in an imperfect context. But then if at all the context has to change, the systems – here in my organisation and elsewhere across the government machinery and beyond – have to be the precursor to that change. Or else, left to the way it is now, we are only doomed to spiral downwards.
Meanwhile this week the Allahabad High Court ruled in favour of farmers whose land in Noida had been acquired by the state government and who were demanding higher compensation. As it turned out the lands had been acquired by the government at throwaway prices under the emergency clause of the Land Acquisition Act in the name of industrial development. These lands had been subsequently allotted to builders and developers, who would go on to design and develop major residential and commercial projects on the same land. It is yet another instance of patronage politics where the men and women in power frame policies and rules in order to benefit a favoured few, even if it is at the cost of causing loss to many. Also this week it was reported that in the remote town of Satna in Madhya Pradesh, the local BJP leader called a press meet in view of the impending visit of L.K. Advani to the town (who is now on a Jan Chetna Yatra across the country) and distributed envelopes carrying money to all the participants from the press, in return for an assurance of wide and favourable publicity. All but one amongst the thirty presspersons present during the meet accepted the envelopes.
Elsewhere on the streets the hoardings across the city cried aloud to its aspiring and well-heeled youth slogans such as “Get used to getting extra” and “Star Material.” (Provided you wear Xylus watches) In a faraway yet similar looking city in Southern Guangdong province of China, meanwhile, a strange incident happened in which a two year old girl was hit by two speeding goods vans which did not return to its victim. But worse still, the girl was left to bleed to death by the side of the road even while as many as eighteen passersby walked past her without bothering to help. Chinese newspapers which reported the incident the next day commented that “selfishness is unscrupulously booming in China” and “that the tragedy reflected a type of apathy that lingers in Chinese society and a moral decay that exists within the nation.” It was also said that “self-interest had become highly tolerated, even respected by some Chinese and even seen as an ideological tool to break the traditional values of collectivism.”
The choice between what is right and what is practicable continues to haunt several young people of my generation. Faced with an aspiration explosion and newly gained economic muscle, the youth continue to try and seek “oneself” while struggling to choose between the heart and the norm and trying to bridge the ever increasing gap between desire and effort. The confusion prevails despite Paulo Coelho prodding (in his “The Alchemist”) and Shah Rukh Khan translating (in his movie “Om Shanti Om”) that “when you really want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” The question that remains is “what do I really want?”And hence the confusion.
Today at the traffic signal I saw a young man riding on a bike take out ten rupees and give it to a “hijra” who had come asking for it, but as the hijra was about to leave the young man said something to her after which the hijra took her hands and put it over the man’s head and uttered something in prayer. At that moment, I had an illusion of a billion hands going up in prayer - for themselves and for the country. And in that same moment A.R. Rahman and Mohit Chauhan crooned “Kun Fayaa Kun” in my ears. It is an Arabic expression which means “Be. And it is...” and is used several times in the Quran, one of which time is when it is said that the Almighty created this world instantly with the phrase “Kun Fayaa Kun.” What it implies is that whenever the Almighty wills something to happen, it takes place immediately. There is no time lag, not even a moment.
I wished I could say “Kun Fayaa Kun” with the same effect....