The Indian Shitizen*

Lesson 11: Do you hear my war cry?

2007-09-06T13:56:00.000-07:00

BY J Bo

Are you a Citizen or a Shitizen?

This country is weird. In some very strange ways. Like for one, it surprises in the least expected ways. Like when Shitizens was started – not even two weeks – I was expecting people to laugh, question, shrug… I was not expecting genuine, quick response. Could be initial curiosity, says my cynical brain, but hey! Let’s see. We are a funny bunch, us Indians. You really cannot tell what we will do. Screw the stereotypes.

As I realized while walking in Connaught Place on Wednesday evening – that in that whole area, me apart, no one else knew about Shitizens or what we are trying; and we are talking Country here! – It was heartening to think, that there are people who Do care. Even if it’s just one Indian somewhere. And it’s a strange kind of maturity that I see, even when I am chatting with a self-proclaimed too-lazy-to-take-a-piss 20-something in Australia… we are aware this is not going to be easy. Perhaps there isn’t even any 10-pointer Goal to reach. But what I did notice is that We want to try. So come. Enough talk.

And while I am at it, the Media has been blamed/made scapegoat for a whole lot of things. Primary accusation being, “So you got the story and talked the talk, what did you really do?” Well, this is one in the media. If there are more who might think similar, please come. If association with Shitizens is an embarrassment, we will not announce you are helping us – we have already launched You Don’t Know Who for anonymous do-gooders. Shall keep it off the records. :)

And finally, Hello,

To those who are reading, those who are helping us spread the word, those who randomly message with encouraging words, the haltingly narrated anecdotes, the seniors and big wigs who tolerate early morning inbox and messenger spamming, the ones who message late in the night with ideas… Thankyou for your time and your mind-space. Some questions have been coming up quite often; will quickly run through those before I get on with the ‘post’.

1. Why Shitizens?
By definition, a citizen is someone who owes allegiance to the state and is entitled to that state’s protection. The most common citizen grouse today – other than blaming most things on the media – is that the State does not do anything. What the citizen’s forget is that they have to “owe allegiance” too. Do their bit. Till as such time we simply open our mouths to either complain or talk big, we are simply Shitizens. Pretty much the one-word for the phrase, “Bum main dum nahi, hum kisi se kum nahi.” (Got no balls, yet talk tall, somewhat).

2. You’re talking too, what’s this all about?
This is about each one of doing that Little Thing that comes the most easily to us. Yes, I said the Most Easily. If all you can do is remember to turn that tap off while you shave one cheek; it’s fine. Or not keep your computer running all night even when you are sleeping. Download freaks can take a night off! ;)

3. And the writing?
To discuss ideas, share thoughts, know what we are thinking, what bothers us; and most importantly, to form a global think tank of Thinking Indian Citizens. We will share ideas, opinions, ways and means of doing things and those motivated enough, there’s the Localised Task Force.

4. Task Force, eh? Wussat?
Localised teams of people who want to help, in terms of real hands-and-legs help. There are NGOs and organizations working in cities. They always need volunteers, but don't know who. We know people who want to help but don’t know where and how. HERE is where we all come together; it’s the era of social networking. Let’s put it to good use. Then there are resident welfare associations or even five group of friends who want to do some good. Whoever wants to pitch in, does. We point them to ways they can. It could be someone in Australia, wanting to do that elusive ‘something’. Come, let’s all think and figure ways we can find different somethings for people to do. No one is a waste.

5. What can we do?
A whole LOT of things! While everyone is welcome to go ahead with whatever Little Steps they have in mind; to get large numbers to join, we NEED to spread the word. Here are some tried and tested ideas on how you can pitch in. Yes, some of you guys have actually been doing things! For the next few weeks – say till end of September – help us spread the word. Tell people. Talk. Forward links. And of course, those who want to actively participate, there’s the Task Force (write to me).

Strategy 1: Copy, Paste & Print

The first extra Little Thing you can do to help:

1. Someone did the “least intrusive, most effective” thing: Made bookmarks with the logo and our slogan and inserted them in books in two major bookstores in Chicago city. The books he chose for the placement were Harry Potter, Indian cooking and world culture.
It’s a damn good idea. The book mark design is this--->
Even if you make 5 book marks and distribute amongst friends who read (books and blogs), it would be nice. Even if they don’t read, share the concept of Shitizens and let them know it can be the Most Easily Done Little Thing they want to do.

2. Another wrote in to say that he will be taking print outs and post them on his office soft board, “it will get the people who come to chat”. While everyone is not expected to put five sheets up, take a print out of that book mark and stick it on the board! Or use little strips of double sided tape and put it in one corner of your car window. Let Shitizens be seen all around!

3. Tell NGOs about us: NOT the ones who embezzle money. But if you know people who are REALLY helping, tell them about us, lead them to us. We will get them volunteers and help spread the word about what they are doing. Those who are doing good things WILL be heard.

4. Keep those old socks: And of course, if you have socks that have lost one partner and you are not wearing them, give them to a destitute. Those in Delhi, if someone can collect socks in your neighbourhood – please don’t be embarrassed, you are helping, not begging – and drop me an email when you have a substantial number, will come and pick those up. And no, do not use this as methods to meet; retribution will be extreme. I am no little social worker; am very ferocious. :)

PS: Please don't think that you HAVE to do bookmarks or bug 100 people. Don't want to, don't! Just do YOUR little thing... That's it.

I will not throw cigarette butts on the road (am carrying an empty match box for portable ashtray). That is my contribution today. Yours?

Lesson 10: Children of an Abused Nation

2007-09-05T13:01:00.000-07:00

Contributed by J Bo

Statutory warning: What lies ahead is unpleasant. Perhaps. It could also be familiar. And that's my contribution today. Yours?

It’s a common sight to find a traffic jam on a fly-over in Delhi. Most jams here are usually due to a single moron. These are people who – in the middle of after-work traffic – decide to turn their vehicle in the opposite direction to common sense. It was nearing twilight and I was sitting in the autorickshaw, stuck in one such jam. You could see the slums below, not too many, just an odd cluster, sporadically strewn around, with little chulhas – two bricks surround by three A-4 size, tin sheets to keep the wind out -- beginning to smoke. There was this man and kid, maybe 6, maybe 10, standing at a distance from one of the hovel clusters.

From the top, I could see his back and that he was somewhat aged and was wearing a lungi. The traffic had begun moving again. Both him and the child were staring into the beyond, with the old man’s hands on the kid’s shoulder. The auto had moved and with another turn I would lose sight of the pair. And then the old man had looked around furtively and lifted his lungi and guided the kid’s hand and we turned. Twilight tricks? I was wearing specs.

Third year of college, to and fro was usually on Delhi Transport Corporation buses. Now general rule in Delhi buses is to head straight for the ‘only for ladies’ seats. Often, there are men sitting on these seats and of course they don’t get up. They resolutely look outside or anywhere but at the women standing around them. Women often have verbal skirmishes with such men. The others usually watch. So this woman gets on with two children – tot in arms and little girl, 4-ish, by side – and an old man, surprisingly, offers his seat. She declines and insists he keep sitting. He does and then kindly, makes the little girl perch on his lap. It was all very symbiotic.

To prevent the child falling off, Old Man kept his hands on the child’s knees, she wore a dark blue frock. A little later, I thought that his hand was a little higher on the child’s thighs. Yet no one else looked bothered, so I continued looking outside as well. Some more time later, the man’s fingers were under the frock’s hem. “Janaab, aap kya kar rahein?” had escaped my mouth before I could… I don’t know what. (What are you doing mister?)

At that moment, the bus stopped to let some more people in. And something weird happened. The old man started opening and closing his mouth like a gold fish; but the mother… She clutched the tot even tighter to her bosom, snatched the little girl off the old man’s lap and stalked off the bus; shoving me hard in the process. Before she alit, she turned and gave me one of the most hateful looks I have ever received in my life. I don’t want to think about what that look meant. Did she hate me for stopping it? Or because she knew and yet hadn’t opened her mouth? Everyone else kept on looking outside.

Happened to discuss the above episodes with someone. The response? “These lower class people; they can do anything.”

End of part one

So the Indian youth are apparently losing their virginity at the ripe age of 19. ‘Generation X, Y, Z values virginity over pre-marital sex’ read the jubilant headlines. What rot. But then, they mean ‘technical’ virginity. Like pop the cherry. But what about fringe benefits? Or pre-loaders?

Like He lost his ‘virginity’ at age four. Daily, when his ayah/maid gave him a bath. It was an exercise in mutual fondling. “I didn’t mind it, thought I knew it was wrong,” he said. “For a long time I had wondered if I would go to hell for liking it, I was afraid I was dying, each time I… till I was 13,” he says. He is a man of words, when he talks, he pours. Or Her, feeling guilty about asking him, “Dad, why did you feel my breasts all those years back?” She is not guilty for him, but, “Mom didn’t know. Shit. She had tears in her eyes. Maybe I should have kept quiet?” But she is sane, she turned out just fine.

Or Him narrating how he looked much older than anyone else since he was, well, hirsute. He also has a very nice voice, but a baritone at 14 isn’t always a good thing. It was his Math tuition teacher, she was 26. “I just closed my eyes and couldn’t…no control, so I came early…” he hesitated, trying to make it sound cute while he has ever since been mortified. Scared of women, why, who would have thought that? It is a scary thought. Because when people get scared of each other, they do mean, underhanded things to balance the status quo.

Or take her, another Daddy’s personal pleasure possum. Now in families where Fathers drink – or there is alcoholism – there is always this pervasive sense of fear. Of not doing a thing out of place that could lead to an argument. You don't do anything that could catch anyone's eye. Drunks always yell. Whether men or women. And look ugly too. So in drunk-at-home families, there is always The Hour, when the first drink begins, after which you pretty much pray you are not The Chosen One. Some drunk parents beat kids, others emotionally destroy kids, still others forget that the child is not just flesh and blood, but His/Her flesh and blood. Another almost-case where a 15-year-old brain told her to keep her legs tightly clenched while Daddy drunk, groped for the drawstrings. The alcohol made him sleepy and he left without much trying. “I still don’t know if I should be grateful that he drank so much that night…” is all she says, sipping her whiskey. (And oh, when you are drinking at 25 or 32, you will become a drunk parent for sure.)

And him, Senor Don Juan Desi: If it moves, will do. When it comes to sexually respecting women, he thinks the lowest of them and serially cheats on the women he says he loves. He wouldn’t agree to it though. The reason? Older women; he was always a rather good-looking boy. He was mostly let down by mother figures. The first was his best friend’s mother. Apparently, his own mother knew about it.

How many other mothers keep quiet? Do the parents really not know… or they don’t have the balls to accept it and speak up? Which part is tougher: Taking on the Predator or explaining it to the child? We have 53.22 per cent children ABUSED. Crudely, that’s half the kids you see playing every evening in any given park. (and that’s from the surveyed sample, we are a huge nation) If it’s 53 % kids abused; those kids grow up to be adults. So a nation of abused adults. Which way do they swing? Victims or predators?

Perhaps let's say it is rampant the world over. But does everyone stay as hush about it as we do? Given the long time Indian families stay together – be it joint family or meeting relatives frequently for festivals and weddings – our abuse cases are mostly close family. Fifty per cent are close relatives or known people, says report released by the Ministry of Women and Child Development. Or perhaps that’s the nature of child abuse: We sire to devour. And it’s not low-class, high-class. When it comes to children, everyone likes a bite. So now I don’t bother asking, “What was your first time like?” Most of us are lying.

PS: I will not be a mute spectator. I will try and have balls.

The Report Says on Sexual Abuse

1. 53.22% children reported having faced one or more forms of sexual abuse.
2. Andhra Pradesh, Assam, Bihar and Delhi reported the highest percentage of sexual abuse among both boys and girls.
3. 21.90% child respondents reported facing severe forms of sexual abuse and 50.76% other forms of sexual abuse.
4. Out of the child respondents, 5.69% reported being sexually assaulted.
5. Children in Assam, Andhra Pradesh, Bihar and Delhi reported the highest incidence of sexual assault.
6. Children on street, children at work and children in institutional care reported the highest incidence of sexual assault.
7. 50% abuses are persons known to the child or in a position of trust and responsibility.
8. Most children did not report the matter to anyone.

Lesson 9: Who is the Indian Shitizen?

2007-09-04T19:50:00.000-07:00

I will be polite to the housekeeping boys and security guards, or will at least keep my mouth shut each time I want to be rude. That would be my contribution today. Yours?

Contributed by Citizen Mohit (on the Rocks)

Who is this Indian Shitizen? That’s the question I asked myself the first time I came across this term and that exactly was the question I could hear in my friends’ tones. I guess everyone who has been on our sites has their own interpretation of this term. Here’s mine!

Please Note: Using ‘he’ comes more natural to me but this generally applies to the ‘she’ too – unless noted otherwise.

The Shitizen's Past
He was brought up in a middle class house with middle class dreams. He is mostly the child of a government servant or a small business owner (the parchun ki dukaan types a.k.a the Mom ‘n’ Pop stores in the West). Not very long ago, he used to study in a school and dream of becoming an engineer or doctor and work hard to buy his own new motorcycle, not a Harley Davidson but a more down to earth Hero Honda Splendor or a Kawasaki Bajaj RTZ. It was supposed to be an upgrade from his father’s Bajaj Super/Chetak (or, as in my case, a Vijay Super!).

Maruti 800 would be the next step towards a successful life. While he was opening up with cable television in his home bringing an end to the monopoly of the monotonous Doordarshan with the advent of Zee TV and MTV, there was still no competition to the 20 minute news capsule (back to back at 09:20 PM in Hindi and at 09:40 PM in English) that would update him on all that was to know in the world of politics, states, sports and the weather. Entertainment folks never made it to the news unless they died.

He would dream of getting into an IIT and make it to the big companies which at that time meant Samtel (makers of picture tubes for almost all brand TVs in India, at least at that time) or one of the TV makers themselves (Onida, Videocon) or of course the core manufacturing giants like BHEL, SAIL (remember the “There’s a little bit of SAIL in everyone’s lives” ad before the news?), Tata Steel and the like. His career choice was made (or doomed) at the age of 16 when he was asked to choose Science or Commerce. Did I say choice? Ha … a big HAH! It was mostly on the basis of marks in the Class X Board exams (remember your parents and teachers telling you, “These are the exams that will define your life beta”?). Commerce was not an option; it was a majboori. People taking commerce were looked down upon. They were not seen as people who genuinely wanted to study Commerce; they obviously didn’t get science.

USA was not a friend; we were not aligned with any of the super powers. So what if we just had a fascination for all things Russian when it came to strategic defense infrastructure and know-how? To appear fair to the world, we did let US planes refuel their tanks in Indian airbases during the Gulf War. USA was supposed to be for Punjabi and Gujarati families who would sell off their assets in India to fly to Amreeka [America] to work in gas stations and motels. People looked at the angry-young-man of Bollywood and public leaders for inspiration.

Marriage between a Punjabi and a Madrasi was only possible in Ek Duje Ke Liye. Fair skin was the number one criterion for considering a girl beautiful. Amitabh Bachchan would be seen with Rajiv Gandhi. Anu Malik was the favorite whipping boy for his “inspired” music and outspokenness. Prannoy Roy with his Friday night program, The World This Week, was the favorite newsman while Vinod Dua had a similar status in Hindi journalism. Sardar+ music meant bhangra and Daler Mehndi, of course, TV serials meant a span of 13 episodes (for whatever reason).

Rules Back Then
There were some basic rules of the game in those days.
1. You never get into a fight with a government servant; he could be a line man, postman or a chapraasi but if he works for the government, it meant that he had control over a lot of luxuries in your life. You could say goodbye to your letters or telephone service if you so much as hinted of an altercation with the Sarkari Karamchari unless, of course, you were the offspring of either his boss or a policewallah.
2. A girl and a boy could never be friends. They were either brother-sister or husband-wife. Apart from that, a boy had to be a friend of the girl’s younger brother to be able to talk to her and that too only to ask her to call her brother. He would have to imagine the rest of the conversation later at night, in his dreams.
3. Sikhs were supposed to be Khalistan; Christians were peaceful and loving people as long as they stuck to teaching in English-medium convent schools. Muslims were supposed to be Muslims first and Indians later. Hindus were obviously the righteous ones because their political leaders were the ones setting the perspectives about all others.
4. Politicians cared and worked for their vote bank only: So what if a certain Rajiv Goswami burns himself alive to protest against their policies?

His Present
The Indian Shitizen of today is young and works out of plush offices not the sarkari daftars.
He suddenly found himself in this new world where Kawasaki Bajaj RTZ went out of production and Hero Honda Splendor became just another entry level bike. The Indian Shitizen can realistically buy an expensive Harley Davidson clone now, if he wants.

He can afford to buy a Ford Ikon as soon as he gets his first job (and a lot of them do buy one). Yes, loans are no more a social taboo they once were. Cable television is the only television for him now. News is now broadcast 24 hours a day for him on exclusive news channels. 20 minutes news? Are you kidding? That would be the time that is spent on just “our top story tonight” with everybody and their mommy chipping in with their analysis. Yes, news items became “stories”.

IIT is still a dream today but you can get into any of the big multinational software companies with a degree from your friendly neighborhood engineering college, which is only a little unfriendly to the pocket. Shimla and Ooty have given way to Phuket Island and Mauritius as top honeymoon spots… and New Year parties. You don’t have to pack your assets in India to go to US now – software engineers go for a few years and come back (or not); some even go just for vacations. The US consulate in Mumbai now has a dedicated separate counter for “Shahs and Patels”; the Delhi counterpart has one for those speaking only Punjabi or Hindi.

Angry young man is out; today’s Shitizen looks at reality show stars for inspiration. The Aneek Dhars (Sa Re Ga Ma Pa 2007) and the Amit Sanas (first Indian Idol ), coming from small towns to make it big on or behind the silver screen have made it to our drawing rooms (which are now known as living rooms, by the way). Atal Bihari Vajpayee was the most favorite politician of the youth of today; (With all due respect to Vajpayee ji) I will not be completely wrong if I say that it was because the youth did not know of any other leaders.

Marriages between a Punjabi and a Madrasi have come out from Bollywood movies to real life even as Bollywood itself gets more real than ever in movies like Satya. Girls are no more judged beautiful based on their fair skin. Amitabh Bachchan is now seen with Amar Singh. Baaju hat (move aside) Anu Malik; Himesh Reshammiya has taken over as the favorite whipping boy as he becomes bigger than Anu Malik ever was (and, as he claims, even RD Burman)! He espouses the Indian Shitizen like few other – does what he wants and likes to do and does not give a damn about what his detractors think of it, as long as he enjoys his work and knows that. Prannoy Roy is still respected but Rajdeep Sardesai (whom my father describes as “ek puraane first class cricketer ka ladka hai, achcha bolta hai, kaafi achche achche points uthata hai” [he is the son of an old first class cricketer, speaks well, brings out very good points]) has captured the imagination of the current youth. Sardar + music now also means guitar based Sufi-Rock! TV serials now go for so long that characters have to die because an actor leaves midway for another serial (also starting with K, of course).

The current Indian Shitizen has seen a world of change in his lifetime. Looking back now, it seems that till one fine day, it was the past and suddenly he came into the present with all its changes, for good or bad.

But some things didn’t change
So a lot of things changed for the Indian youth from his adolescence years to adulthood. But there has been little change in his attitude towards the government and vice versa. Public corporations, for the most part, have become synonymous with losses and red-tapism and corruption. A girl and a boy can be friends today (not all agree to this even today) but they run the risk of being pulled up and beaten by Shiv Sainiks or RSS workers, especially close to Valentine’s Day. Parents don’t mind if their daughter comes back from the college with her guy friend but the self-appointed custodians of Indian culture don’t care for what you and I think.
Religion is still a controversial subject. Sikhs have been absolved of the terrorism ‘charge’ but the Muslims have been put in that mold now. A normal Hindu and Muslim still don’t have any problem with each other but “Hindu-Muslim relations” as portrayed by the politicians are at an all time low with riots and bomb blasts occurring recursively. Politicians still make policies to please the vote bank –Rajiv Goswami is dead now and the striking doctors protesting against the govt are shown as heartless people not tending to their patients. Arjun Singh scares the hell out of the Indian Shitizen by recommending reservation in the private sector too.

Problems facing the country are frustrating but the common man has found alternate ways. For example - No electricity? No problem – get an apartment in one of the buildings selling two bedroom flats for 40 lacs with a clubhouse and 24 hour electricity and water supply. For every thing public, there is a private (and more often better, even if more expensive) counterpart. Schools, Hospitals, even roads (e.g. toll roads like the Noida toll road); the list goes on.

Since the common man found ways to circumvent the things that didn’t change, he lost interest in the nation. Talking about politics became passé. It was a surprise if someone knew the names of the chief ministers of more than 2 or three states. People today don’t know the number of states we have in the country. They know about the Osama and Clinton campaign more than the fact that we could be facing mid-term elections in this country.

But some of them have had enough shit from the politicians and people who have their own personal agenda in keeping the country backwards or in inciting revengeful religious sentiments. They are the people who want to bring India back into our mental frame; to at least increase the awareness of issues facing us and, where possible, take steps to help. Those people, I believe, are the INDIAN SHITIZENS!

(PS: It was difficult reading Mohit's piece in one go, simply because even as I was reading the story, I kept pinging Mohit to tell how this-has-happened-in-my-life-too. The Indian Shitizen could be a liquor baron and son, the next top supermodel, someone not just born with a silver spoon but the entire effing cutlery set in his mouth... and as Mohit has written, a HUGE population of our country, are the Middle Classes Children. Bajaj Priya was Papa's first scooter and I stood before him on that scooter for 12 long years before we got our first car - a Maruti 800 that was electric blue in colour, second-hand -- in 1991. It's funny and amusing how a LOT of my younger friends today and never-been-on-a-scooter types often say when they spot a "family" on a two-wheeler, "Oh my gaaaawd, HOW can they sit with kids dangling like that on scooters? It is dangerous, they should not. Seat belts bhi nahi hai!" Right. For those 12 years that Papa drove with me infront and Mamma at the back and bhai on her lap; we never had an accident. NEVER. Oh that scooter is STILL around -- and called Akbar -- I learnt gears on that and forever since, MISTRUSTED anything gear-less. It's like riding a goat.
Thanks Mohit: Very nostalgic.
Task Force: I missed a date today, please understand, my sense of time zones SUCKS. So I might be thinking I am uploading on 4th while it ends up becoming 5th. :| One post missed. SO PLEASE point out.

Introducing: You Don't Know Who

2007-09-03T14:16:00.001-07:00

On the Indo-US nuclear policy for laymen

You-Don't-Know-Who: That someone/blogger/person who would usually be in a position of authority - either directly or with direct authority to speak on authority -- and will give us bits of their wisdom or their two bits; which of course you are free to decide, for self. They might choose to remain undisclosed and not reveal their shitizenship because of parental, occupational, situational or spousal pressure. In absolute empathy and a hope they would come out of the closet soon, here's some insight from our first You Don't Know Who (YDKW).

YDKW1 is someone who hobnobs with People with Power and knows things we Might Not Know. So perhaps he will share them here. Also, this other-worldly tone will be dropped in usual posts. I am feeling enigmatic and all. Also, that the bit about Atoms for Peace and 20 Gwe completely got me. Poetry and politics, of the nuclear kind. I just understood that much and it makes me queasy; you go figure.
J Bo, Over and Out
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Explaining the Nuclear Deal: Issues to Think About

The brouhaha over the nuclear deal has created a great more noise than light. Most people don't really know what is happening, and it does not help that our esteemed MPs are choosing to exaggerate and shout rather than debate the merits or demerits of the deal. In a few short paragraphs, here are the bare bones of the deal:

What is India's nuclear position?
India's nuclear energy program began in the 1950s with a great deal of involvement of the United States through the Atoms for Peace program, including helping build and providing nuclear fuel for the nuclear reactor in Tarapur, as well as through scientific cooperation. Differences arose in 1968 with India's opposition to the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT). The NPT recognises five states (US, USSR/Russia, UK, France and China) as Nuclear Weapons States on the basis that they tested nuclear weapons before 1967. India considers this discriminatory. [i] Signatories to the NPT are allowed access to each other's civilian nuclear facilities. After 1974, when India tested its first nuclear device, the US formed the Nuclear Suppliers Group (NSG), to oversee sales of nuclear material. In 1978 the US Congress passed the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Act but the US continued to provide some nuclear fuel to India under a 1963 treaty with India until 1980, when it passed on those responsibilities to France.
In 1992 the NSG limited sales of nuclear technology and materials to non-Nuclear Weapons States only if their nuclear reactors were under full scale safeguards implemented by the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA). France continued to provide nuclear fuel to India until it too adhered to this provision in 1996. China and Russia have supplied India with nuclear fuel after this period. Nuclear energy in 2006 accounted for 3 GigaWatts of electricity, or 2.6 per cent of India's electricity generation. [ii]

India plans on expanding the amount of electricity generated by nuclear energy to 20 GWe by 2020 (this is from nuclear plants already under construction). Except that we have a lack of Uranium. Most of our Uranium is low quality, except some newly discovered deposits that have as yet to be mined. Our plants are running at under 40% capacity when they could be running at above 90%. In another words we are paying more than twice the costs of electricity generated by nuclear energy because we are stopped from buying nuclear fuel because of NPT and NSG guidelines.

What does the nuclear deal do?
The nuclear deal will allow us to buy some (though not all) nuclear fuel and technology from the US, and it commits the US (which is the most important member of the NSG) to convince other members of the NSG to change their guidelines so that India can also buy fuel from them.

What do we pay for this deal?
Money. The deal allows them to sell us nuclear fuel and technology and it allows us to buy it from them. That is the bare bones. The complications are that we will have to put 14 out of our 22 nuclear plants under supervision of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) and promise to use those reactors only for civilian purposes. This will apply to most of the new reactors that will be built.

Does this mean we cannot build, or test, nuclear weapons?
We can build as many nuclear weapons as we want, as long as the fuel is from the military nuclear facilities. If we test nuclear weapons we have a problem, with the US at the least. The US is bound by its Atomic Energy Act of 1954 and the Hyde Act, 2006, that will mean it cannot sell us fuel if we test nuclear weapons. The Agreed Text of the nuclear deal does not talk about nuclear testing, but simply says that national laws will apply. This is what happened in the earlier Tarapur case. The US had to stop supplying fuel under its own laws, and passed the responsibilities on to others. In reality we don't know when, or if, we will have to test nuclear weapons, and if and when it happens, we can try and negotiate a position then. As things stand now, if we test, the US will have to stop supplying us with nuclear fuel & equipment. The only way to beat that is to convince the US to change its laws.

Why do people dislike the deal?
Critics of the deal feel that we are losing the independence of our policy options by signing up to this deal. We will have to put a large part of our nuclear infrastructure under international supervision, and if things go wrong we will have bought large expensive nuclear energy plants and not be able to buy fuel for them. They insist that we should concentrate on clean coal and other alternative sources of energy. The reality is that we don't have clean coal technology and the coal we use for electricity production is immensely polluting. Solar, and hydrothermal power is unreliable, expensive and just not enough.

The other main reason that people dislike the deal is that they feel it is an excuse by which the US will try and control India. In reality the deal is just a civilian nuclear deal, not a military compact. India is bound by its own laws, nobody else's, this does not change that. the deal also allows us to buy nuclear fuel and technology from anybody and also to buy enough fuel for the lifetime of the nuclear reactors. If the US, for any reason, terminates the deal, it has to pay compensation.

Bottom line
We are a growing power, with a hungry economy. We need energy, and we also need to make new relationships. This is part of that process. It could be a better deal, but you don't negotiate with a superpower and get everything we want. In the real world life is about compromises, to quote a former US Ambassador who I know well, "What people need to remember is that both sides were negotiating as much by what they left out as by what they put in. Their objectives were largely, but not entirely, compatible. India can demonstrate that it is not bound by unilateral US requirements. The US can demonstrate, albeit with a little more difficulty, that it can fully abide by US law under the 123 agreement. Neither side can get the comfort involved in having its maximum desires spelled out."

[i]. Indian government position on NPT and other treaties dealing with non-proliferation: http://www.indianembassy.org/policy/CTBT/embassy_non_proliferation.htm .
[ii]. "Nuclear Power in India" Briefing Paper 45, Uranium Information Centre, http://www.uic.com.au/nip45.htm.
______________________________________________________________

PS: Ok, one question. When we say, we will have to pay 'money --> does the government have like contingency funds -- money for a rainy day, like when we (govt) sign a nuclear deal or something -- or does that us paying money mean more taxes soon? Paisa kahan se aata hai?
I don't understand, I will ask. Shrug. Shamelessly. So, all those who wish to write, or click photos (no one? anyone?), make videos, make podcasts, cartoon strips with Desi, better, neater versions of Desi... feel free! You got the email, here it goes: foxytanya@gmail.com.
Hmmm...at the rate I am saying that line, I think I need a jingle.

Lesson 8: Are you easy, or are you good?

2007-09-03T00:59:00.000-07:00

Contributed by Citizen Crimson

(From J Bo: Well, for those who read us, hear about us (dheere dheere) and even those who laugh at us… Thanks! Some things work as motivation, others work as irritants and still others simply make us grit our teeth, grin and bear it and some of us… well, we send early morning emails to others. Had emailed the contributors and those helping out, conveying gratitude I really DO feel. You see, people find it far easier to wear their sexuality on their sleeves than they would wearing their patriotism. Or wish for a better life. Or whatever high-faluda funda you want to call it. We see it as Simple Steps To Better Living. And of course if we can rake some dirt on the things and people-things that bother us; we will. Today’s post, is Citizen Crimson’s response to the email I had sent out two days back. He writes...)

There are very few expressions that have as much of a positive, infectious energy as a sincerely written "Thank you note". Do you remember the last one you received? Chances are it was very long ago, and you still have it preserved somewhere. A 'thank you' is an acknowledgement of something that was well intended, a symbol of a smile somewhere, a mark of a world worth living in, if only for that one single moment.

Have you looked into the eyes of a thankful person? They pour out affection, for everything. Would you not feel the world to be a better place, only if you could see it in the eyes of every stranger, that he was thankful for something somewhere?

Why do you think those "thank you" notes after an Oscar/Miss XYZ etc are so long? Not even a single person, who needs to be thanked, should be missed. The feeling of being thankful, I have come to realise, is blissfully fulfilling for everyone.

How often have we been thankful for all that we have? And expressed it too? When was the last time YOU wrote your heartfelt "thank you note"? Why is it rare? Why does it need a reason and occasion?

And why, more often than not, we choose to "blame for what went wrong" rather than 'thank for what went right'? Are we inherently a thankless bunch of souls, who don't give a damn to what's happening right in our lives? Are we always looking for catching collars rather than patting backs? I cringe at the thought, and I want it to be shoved aside as a symptom of a malfunctioning neuron in my brain, that needs repair.

Heres my bit as the Shitizen:

I thank my family, for making me all that I am and for giving me everything that I ever wanted.
I thank my friends, for the learning, unlearning and relearning I have had with them, through them.
I thank the good politicians, for staying good against all odds, as I realise how unbearable the pressures can be.
I thank the honest police officials, for their excruciatingly lonely attempts to make a difference in an idle system.
I thank those media professionals, who genuinely entered the media world to make a difference, and are still not driven by TRP's.
I thank that English teacher, who made me read The Hitchhikers' Guide To The Galaxy, as my first book.
I thank that old man, who was shouting slogans at a traffic signals, urging everyone to follow the traffic rules.
I thank that stranger, who had my laptop returned to my address when I had...(well lets leave it at that :) )
I thank all those individuals, who are trying to make a positive difference to the world around them, in their own small way.

I thank all the good people, simply for being good!

Thank You ALL!

Word of the day (contributed by First Shitizen of India): Desident; the original of the word dissident. Meaning: When other fellow Indians drive with their car noses sticking in your car's behind and sudden braking causes everyone's noses to be in everyone's, er, behinds. Cars I mean. (grin)

PS: And Citizen CRIMSON: TELL that laptop story...sounds like a fun one...now that you did get it back and all. :D Tell, tell! Phir kya hua...?

Lesson 7: Sab chalta hai?

2007-09-02T02:58:00.000-07:00

By (Citizen) Mohit On The Rocks
also our Wordpress coordinator: The Indian Shitizen on Wordpress

Desi word of the day: Hitchki, the original of the word 'hitch'. Happens when you're trying something and something else happens. Or that reaction when Sachin Tendulkar is playing REALLY well and then suddenly, gets out. (Ha, ha, you dont have to agree, you know! Any more suggestions for Hindi words that might have inspired English ones? *evil grin*)

A few years ago, when the prime minister of Singapore, having heard of India's supremacy in the Information Technology sector, came to India, he had this to say (roughly): "Nowhere in the world have I ever seen such a striking disparity in the potential of the people and the infrastructure of the country". A friend of mine narrated that story years ago; and of late – when I generally can't even remember the name of the last movie I’ve seen, and there have been a few hundred Bolly and Hollywood movies – I have not forgotten that statement. Now you don’t have to go through a whole lot of studies to prove that.

Just look around you: Your daily life starts with no electricity at home. You either have a smoke-coughing generator or an inverter or an illegal line drawing power from somewhere you are not supposed to. On the road, you see auto-wallahs driving with no regard for anyone else. You too resort to driving zigzag just to keep up with the anarchy. You wonder how the guy before you managed a license to drive. You then smile at your naivet; of course he got it the way you got yours. A few green bills and you didn’t even have to go to the RTO.

While you criss-cross through the daily traffic maze, a cop pulls you over. You have been riding your motorcycle on the footpath… And your amazement knows no bounds. You feel like Sanjay Dutt: Trying to tell the cop, “I was just doing what everyone else does. How come I am the only one who gets caught?” The cop is impervious to your logic till you remind him of Mahatma Gandhi: On the face of a Rs 500 bill. Long Live India; he will also oblige you with a few tips on any other “checkposts” so that you can keep some of your Gandhigiri in your pocket.
At the next traffic signal, you come across a billboard showing the Prime Minister urging the youth of the country to come forward and do your nation proud. Do the nation proud? I would feel proud enough if I can make it to office on time today without another thulla stopping me.

The point being: You and I were optimistic about our country once but somewhere down the line the fight for Our Daily Life became so monstrous that fighting for our nation started to be more of a fantasy.

I want to talk about a fascinating concept I read in the book Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell: the Theory of Broken Windows. In the words of the author, "If a window is broken and left unrepaired, people walking by will conclude that no one cares and no one is in charge. Soon, more windows will be broken, and the sense of anarchy will spread from the building to the street on which it faces, sending a signal that anything goes (or the ubiquitous Chalta Hai, in local parlance). In a city, relatively minor problems like graffiti, public disorder, and aggressive panhandling are all invitations to more serious crimes." While the author talks about this in the context of New York City crime in the 1990s, I can see it perfectly applicable in our case.
This “no one cares attitude” is our broken window. Like ANY Government Office, since that is where most of the frustration is directed.

How to spot a Government Office
The first thing you notice are the dirty stairwells stinking with ammonia levels approximately that of public urinals, if not higher. Paan spit uniformly paints the wall in what looks like a deliberate attempt at decorating with a weird kind of modern art. Broken furniture greets you; unkempt walls stare at you with graffiti asking you to "Chalo Ayodhya" or get a cure for your "Gupt Rog". Pamphlets of coaching classes would have clearly hidden any board with printed directions for the common man on How To Proceed. Babus sitting behind piles of files sipping away at their tea, chatting with other babus or agents who are the only people authorized by the Babus to get your work done, for a commission, of course. Even with an agent, when you finally get across to one babu, he would ultimately decide that you need the signature of Pandey ji across the hall before he can work on it - just a euphemistic way of saying that Pandey ji also has to buy sweets for his kids. The common man, having made no sense of the affairs of that office, ultimately gives in to the agents-babu nexus to get the work done as also to get the hell-out-of-that government office.

Now, you could threaten the babu with legal action against bribery or even launch a stealth camera thing but chances are he won’t even as-much-as-flinch. His rationale: When the government cannot even keep the street dogs from shitting anywhere in the office, when they can't keep anyone from spitting on any wall, when they can't display proper directions for a common man about the pyramid structure of the office describing who can be approached in case of any dissatisfaction with a lower level babu, how in the world are they going to take action against him?

It dawns upon you that the dirty office is probably meant to drive home the point that over here, sab chalta hai (anything goes) aur kisi ko farak nahin padta (and no one gives a damn).

PS: The original post by Mohit had more on the lines of “let’s do something”. Have deliberate held that bit back…will share very, very soon. Till then, as I have requested Mohit, have patience, have trust. Ha ha, me asking for ‘trust’ is a VERY funny thing. This is Miss Cynic talking! But then, let’s say, decide for yourself, whether you think this is worthwhile or not. Pretty soon.

2. Also, am putting everyone's names up: as contributors and commentators. EVEN if you take up an assumed identity, do it. It encourages others that they are not alone in 'this'. :) Shrug.

3. Citizen alert: mohit's down with fever: Here go get well soon wishes from the Entire citizenship; known, unknown, anonymous. :)

Lesson 6: Amna Ali says ...

2007-09-01T03:38:00.000-07:00

"...to strike, to seek and not to yield."

No matter who you are, or where.
If you are a Muslim student who faces funny jokes and jibes: Do not yield.
If you are a girl who has a hearing problem and wears hearing-aids and has colleagues laughing at you: Do not yield. YOU earn your living; nobodys' papa gives it to you. Remember that.
If you are a Bihari editor of a newspaper and people STILL snigger at your accent: Keep looking them in the eye and getting them by their balls. Do not yield.
If you think your nose looks bad and are not trying for a job on TV, remember makeup fixes everything. Do not yield.
If you want to write and people tell you only well-written blogs are read. Bullshit. It's all in an idea. And you guys should read the REAL copies that come in before appearing in newspapers. Do not yield. Put out that blog.
If your boss says you are only good for menial work (say only a shopping page and not the cover story). Do not yield. wait for a better opportunity, it will come. Keep your eyes open and your CV ready.
If you want to be a photographer and your family business is ball-bearings. Do not yield. Keep shooting unseen parts of Kashmir.
If you are a rich man's wife who teaches slum kids how to learn computers and people don't understand you. Do not yield.
If you are the news editor and your team does not like you. Do not yield.
If you are a mother living only for your child. Do not yield.

You don't have to fight or scream. Just do your job and stick your ground. And if you really want the nail to hit home, smile. This is not Gandhiri. This is psychology. A bully never likes being smiled at. It makes him look stupid. Like dogs on the street. If they come charging at you, stand your ground and ask it to stop, loudly. It will. Of course, if you see a dog that is frothing in the mouth, do NOT try and talk to it. Climb a tree. If you have a gun, shoot it. Same with bullies and people. Stand your ground. Ask them to stop. Or keep quiet and smile. And no, you cannot shoot people. No matter how tempted. Definitely not with an AK-47. :) And all the cases mentioned above in the post are REAL people, Indians all, I know. Damn. Neat show, I say!

You are here!

2007-08-31T19:48:00.000-07:00

Also, The Indian Shitizen group/community is on Orkut too. With two members. Heh heh. Those who are not on Facebook and want to keep track through Orkut, please do so.

PS: in that screen shot pic, text says: "Questions are pretty much being asked by every single one of us out there."

Hello...
This idea is inspired by the Dastangoi tradition, a performance I am yet to see live. If there can be stories inspired by Persian folk lore; there are mannnnyyy stories in our folk tales.
Wait till you hear about the ghoda bhoot...Sleepy Hollow seems a comedy before THAT one and my 80-year-old granny told me that.

You know, when growing up, I loved the Amar Chitra Katha and Panchtantra stories, very good stories and fun series. I remember this particular story about a war between Owls and Crows, and duderinos! That story had strategy, angle, emotion, action, everything. :D I am thinking...how about doing Panchtantra story-telling/reading sessions? We become one character each...and hmm...work it out. I am on. Who's interested?

PS: Anyone have old comics around? Don't want the comics, but can you photocopy stories for us? Can we discuss what all we guys might have? Am gonna call Mom tonight, I think I should have a nice bunch... even old Champaks and Tinkle would do. C'mon people, if you know people who might have them, do approach them for us. Or put me on to them.

Coordinators needed

2007-08-31T06:54:00.000-07:00

Hello,

Need someone to take over/start a version of this blog on Wordpress (of course with links here). Will start the blog, but need someone to be moderator/admin with me there.

Similarly, am thinking having another version on Sulekha.com, will be good for us too. We could put out small posts as intros and lead to this blog. What say people? Volunteers?

Also, who has a good voice, clear speech, time and interest in doing podcasts for us?

Mail back: foxytanya@gmail.com

PS: Today we got two contributions, one from Citizen Carebear and another from Madhusmita. Will be using those two subsequently. We also saw Amin, Amna and Soil&Music interacting for the first time.Welcome and thank-you guys!

Lesson 5: Hindu-Muslim, bhai-bhai?

2007-08-30T15:42:00.000-07:00

It happens only in India

(bhai = brother)

I will not stereotype any section or community; even if it means asking my friend to shutup with a stupid joke. If I cannot stand up against religious-cultural bullshit/stereotyping; I will not actively participate in stereotyping. That’s my bit today. Yours?

Those of you who tune in to the news must have seen the video or heard the news about the chain-snatcher being lynched by the public in the Bhagalpur district of Bihar. What initially started out as a case of a mob going out of hand and the police abetting in the inhuman treatment – the thief was tied to a police bike and then dragged on the ground – is now becoming a religious-shenanigan. Rabble-rousers Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD) has decided to provoke the public by saying that the chain-snatcher was beaten because he was a Muslim. And of course, India being India, certain people are getting over-excited.

And yet I wonder, is it just the uneducated who can be swayed by religious sentiments? I am an educated Indian – perhaps far less educated than the doctorates and other bigger degrees that one is supposed to have, am not even a post-graduate – but I have been to one of the best colleges in the country and am also a media professional. Given those two facts, tolerance for religious differences should come rather easily to me. Sort of part of the job, ethics, etc.

Political Science was one of the media papers in college and my final year 100-mark thesis was on Shiv Sena and the hand Saamna and Marmik (those were the Marathi newspapers brought out by the Shiv Sena) played in the 1993-94 Mumbai riots. I had run away from home - to Mumbai - to well, interview Bal Thackeray. But my father and my college sabotaged that attempt... Anyway. So I pretty much STUDIED the way religious sentiments are played up, incited and played out for vested interests and yet…

A year back there were bomb blasts at the Mahim-Matunga railway stations (July 2006) and there was an undercurrent that perhaps it would erupt into another Hindu-Muslim riot. I was here in New Delhi, staying in a locality called Panchsheel; one of the better-moneyed colonies of this city (rented apartment people!) when the news broke on air.

Standing on the terrace, I was thinking of calling a friend in Mumbai when my phone rang… it was another friend – a Sikh gentleman and a biker – who lives in the Nizamuddin side of town (Muslim majority area). He sounded worried as he called…

“J Bo, are you at home? You stay there and don’t get out. Something is happening,” he said. He is a biggish Sikh boy and usually is the first to get into an argument. He sounded scared… and it was infectious. I went inside the house to hear him better and the TV – on mute – showed scenes from the blasted stations. The kickers and breaking news flashing were hinting at building tension (TRP or truth?) and the possibility that Hindus and Muslims might start killing each other gain… Before I could ask him exactly WHY he was asking me to stay indoors, a loud vrooming noise could be heard from the road.

Watching from the terrace, a strange scene was unfolding – rather repeating itself – on the main road (visible from terrace). Muslim young men in sherwanis and the traditional scull caps were going to and fro, 3-4 of them on different motorbikes and scooters. There were about 20-30 bikes and the boys on them were shouting slogans and going up and down the road.

I narrated what was happening to my friend – still on the phone – when he said that the same thing was happening in Nizamuddin as well. “I have never seen them this excited. Something is about to happen. You stay indoors. Don’t get out.” By the time he got off the phone, the motorists had taken eight more rounds on the road. I started calling my friends too… asking them to stay indoors. It was very eerie… I kept expecting a blast to ring out any moment, or someone to throw a bottle on the terrace from where I was watching, or someone else to start dragging people from inside their homes and hacking them… No, I wasn’t being imaginative; all this HAS happened in Mumbai. Gujarat. Till the phone rang again…

“Listen, the Muslim boys you see on the scooters are not rioters. Today is xxx*, they are celebrating xxxx. They are celebrating a festival J Bo. They are celebrating and we are getting scared.” We both kept quiet for a bit, don't know how long, and then we hung up without the byes and take-cares. We are both educated. (xxx* = forgetting which one, will tell...and that too; most kids in Indian schools know all Hindu holidays... let me hear them rattle off all the Eids and for that matter when we have Onam and Pongal... Honestly, I am NOW making it a point to learn. I don't know all of them. And I think, I AM ashamed, and sorry that I have not bothered so far...)

THAT day; I was ashamed. Growing up, we celebrated Durga puja with Ma-Papa; but that was not a choice. You did what you were asked to. So one can say that I am Hindu by birth and not necessarily by choice. I would perhaps not choose any religion at all. However; I had always thought that I was pretty open-minded when it came to accepting other religions and religious views.

The brightest girl in our class in college was a Muslim. My caretaker is a Muslim. One of my father’s best friend’s is a Muslim. One of my close-friend’s girlfriend is a Muslim. And yet that day, I got queasy. Because there were many Muslim boys. It was a mob on two-wheels.

I know that at the end of the day, any mob does NOT see religion. They do not see reason. They do not see sense. A mob does not recognize neighbours. A mob does not hear logic. And yet, while I was scared of the mob… BUT was it JUST the mob, or was it the sight of many scull caps? And WHERE did that thought come from? I have NEVER been hurt by a single person of that faith, EVER. So...why did I think like that... or get scared? Is someone feeding me those thoughts... the repeat a 'stereotype' many times and it becomes a truth angle?

If I were a Muslim… What would it feel to live in a nation – in fact now the world – where your religion is looked at suspiciously? Where you are considered a minority? What does it feel when friends might look at you suspiciously because the way you pray is different from theirs?

What I understood about myself; and perhaps a bit of the Indian psyche that day: We are a nation of mistrust. We, as a people, are closed to anything that could be different from us. We don’t trust our government (it's funny that we choose the morons), our police (oh well, relatives and the police are both things we have to live with), we don’t trust our doctors and our lawyers (both lie to take our money), our gurus and priests are free-loaders and any faction of us that becomes the majority, will have a condescending tolerance of the minority factions (I mean c'mon, even in clubs we have THREE different levels for people to party on - And it's not to sell better service, it's JUST to sell a stupid exclusivity, to make some feel superior and the others, aspirational).

We are simply SCARED of anything that is different. Of agreeing that perhaps there are other ways of life and living and those could be better too (each to his/her own). And of course, being amazingly lazy, the thought of trying to understand something different does not enter our heads. So we get scared and we start stereotyping and making fun of it or defiling it or whatever. School-kid tactics actually; but like most damaging are the insults in childhood, so are these tactics. Till THAT fear stays in you and me, the likes of Bal Thackeray, LK Advani, Narendra Modi, RSS and RJD WILL be able to play up sentiments and blow-up issues beyond proportions. But what do we do to curb that fear? HOW do we trust each other? I don’t know… do YOU?

Hindu-Muslim, bhai bhai
Zara si aafat, jhat bane kasayi?

(corny!)

Disclaimer: The views expressed in posts written by me, are expressedly mine. No other contributor or reader of this blog is responsible or should be held responsible for what I write in my posts. Or who I name.

PS: I realise this is not a game. I realise I am naming factions and parties here. Let no one think that what is said here does not matter. YOU are spending time here, it matters. I am a nobody. But a 100 bodies have ALREADY been reading this blog. If it makes a difference to two, we are happy. Hello Citizens, we touched a 100-readers mark on Aug 30; and it's just been five days since we started. That is GOOD news. Let's keep this rolling.

Those who wish to contribute stories, anecdotes, recipes, pictures, music, thought for the day, a drawing… Please feel free to email me: foxytanya@gmail.com. No cut and paste please, we are looking for original content. If you don’t want to contribute, just spread the word! Talking, for us, is never a bad thing. Hum baat zyada karte hain, achcha karte hain. ;)

Reality check

2007-08-29T22:51:00.000-07:00

Okay. First mistake pointed out.
This is a blog, this is not a race.
This is also not a news site.
No more cutting-pasting.
Only original content.
Even if it means waiting.
Patiently.

Two Good Indians: Abhhyanand & Anand Kumar, Patna

2007-08-29T18:58:00.000-07:00

PS: My right forearm is hurt; too much typing, it's swollen...am trying to type out Lesson 5....IF anyone wants to contribute...PLEASE mail me your work ASAP...even if it's a picture and caption. Would be really grateful if we can have the next three lessons already in. Please help, we cannot have a break in the posts here...foxytanya@gmail.com

The Ashok Rajpath Street in Patna is where one can find literally hundreds of coaching centers.

It is in fact, a haunt for many young people in Bihar hoping to crack various entrance exams and secure a bright future for themselves. However, there is another coaching institute in Patna that is a league apart from all these.

The students attending it are mostly poor, are housed, fed and coached for free. And it boasts a success rate of almost 95 per cent in the IIT JEE. It is called the Super 30 and it is run by an IPS officer Abhayanand and a mathematics teacher, Anand Kumar.

“We wanted to help the children who were intelligent but who did not have enough money to pay the IIT coaching fees as they are quite expensive,” says Anand Kumar.

The two of them consulted teachers, principals and schools before shortlisting their first batch of 30 deserving candidates. Most of the students who enrolled were the children of marginal farmers and from panchayat schools.

They were brought to Patna, provided food, lodging and coaching under one roof and free of cost. And the results speak for themselves- when the entrance results for 2003 were announced, 18 of the 30 had made it. And this year, 28 students made it to IITs.

But as a testament to the teaching methodology at Super 30, the students compete not on the basis of caste or quota, but sheer competence. And every year, battling funds crunch and poaching by rival coaching institutes, Abhay Anand and Anand Kumar make sure that at least 30 deserving students like get a shot at making their dreams a reality.

Original story

One good Indian is all it takes,

To create an India we wish to make.

Chak De India: After 13 tries, football team bags Nehru Cup

2007-08-29T18:19:00.000-07:00

CutnPaste
In one of the greatest nights for Indian football in a long time, a solitary goal from NP Pradeep against Syria clinched India's first title victory in the ONGC Nehru Cup in Delhi on Wednesday night. Bob Houghton's men accomplished the remarkable feat through a 43rd minute strike against tournament favourites Syria, which should prove to be a new beginning for Indian football. Indian captain Bhaichung Bhutia hoped the victory would herald a new beginning for Indian football.
Read full story

CutnPaste: Blame it on the media

2007-08-29T03:17:00.000-07:00

Addressed to the Readers:

Hello, can one talk to you,
Could you spare your minutes few?

This is about the Media,
And sincerely one had no idea...
That you could hate it so much,
And refuse even to touch;
Or consider the simple concept,
That even the media could take some wrong steps.

(While you are such a human strong,
You have never done a single wrong?)

Come let's blame it on the Media,
It's always a bloody good idea...

To say Hey Cameraman!
You should also have been Superman;
To stop that blast and prevent that flood,
And fight the villains, and curb the blood.

(While you vote for the villains,
To launder your clandestine millions?)

Come let's blame it on the Media,
It's always a bloody good idea...

To ask hey how come you Reporter,
You don't have that noose a little tighter?
Around a corrupt politicians' head,
Who steal our very daily bread.

(While you walk with pride,
And give them a hefty bribe?)

Come let's blame it on the Media,
It's always a bloody good idea...

To say they did nothing but write,
Too many words, some banal, some trite;
And yet those words don't fill with dread,
For on our land the killers still tread.

(While you will never do your bit,
For it's far easier to throw a fit??)

Come let's blame it on the Media,
It's always a bloody good idea...

Secure in your homes to sit and complain,
Call the media names; give them some pain.
But let me tell you, You are also the SAME;
You do NOTHING else but play the blame game.

But then let's blame it on the Media now,
After all the Public is always holier than thou.
___________________________________________________

This was in response to some reactions to the earlier Maaro s**le ko post -- written as a response to this story -- where some of you wrote in saying "What did the media do when that man was being beaten by the Bhagalpur-mob?"

WHAT DID THE MEDIA DO?

They did their jobs. They brought you the video so that you could SEE and be able to judge for yourself; as any sensible, thinking, sensitive Indian WOULD do.

And please, DO remember, the man shooting that video was/ is a CAMERAMAN. He is NOT Superman. What would YOU do when you see a mob of 50-100 thrashing a man? Jump and lie on top of the man to protect him?

What did YOU do when that girl was being disrobed by a mob in Mumbai? HOW many of you came ahead with a shirt or dupatta to COVER her?

Get REAL. The public seems to FORGET that a media person present at a bomb blast sight, accident site, a site where dead bodies of children are being found is AS MUCH HUMAN as you sitting on the OTHER side of the monitor or TV screen with your feet up on the table before you, sitting in your air-conditioned environments...

Why blame us for talking to corrupt politicians and taking their bytes? YOU voted for them and gave them that vantage point in the first place. One could go on with this forever...

It IS funny to see media people clamoring behind a politician with their microphones and their cameras and their falling dupattas and their dishevelled hair. It must be a FUN job to see people crying around you, mothers holding their dead babies and a father crying over the remains of his raped daughter and wife and NOT be able to do anything MORE than bring a news report TO an AUDIENCE that will eat popcorn while watching that video and then turn and say, "But what did the media do?"

IF you can make better journalists... COME. Email your stories, what you report, make it UNBIASED. One will put up your stories HERE on this blog.

MAKE SURE, though that you DON'T make a single mistake, DON'T show any human frailty or personal bias when doing that story, get the BEST bytes and something different from the 52 other TV channels present there and STILL come back home to your wife/husband and kids and smile and talk as if nothing happened.

Original appears here: Blame it on the media

Urgently Needed: Happy India News

2007-08-29T01:41:00.002-07:00

Hello,
Very few of us are reading this... for whatever reasons. Channels and news websites with India news have mostly negative news flashing... It feels as if the country is about to explode. But is it?
Is there good news happening around you? Positive things? Happy things? Please write in...
Aiii... more people needed to contribute, more and more and more. More Indians.

(PS: Goddammits, every other country goes around lighting candles for every other reason and we can't... yadayadayada. They are also better paid and work less hours than us? I have never been outside the country, but that's what reader comments on the Official Site say. What's the real deal? Ok, ranting over)

Shoot At Sight Project

2007-08-29T01:41:00.001-07:00

Shoot the Men: And I will take your picture and your vehicle number and put it up here. Then, I will take those to the police and book you under harassment. The proof is HERE. Let me see, HOW it is ignored and by WHO.

Please DO see how our Romeo has taken his helmet OFF to have a better look at me inside an auto WHILE speeding on a flyover. I have promised this boy, that I will be coming to meet him and his folks, soon. I will. Look at me for all I care, i am good looking. But DO NOT try and intimidate me. You got balls that hurt and I got balls of steel. NO ONE will scare me. Now, come, at your own risk.

CALLING GIRLS: Use your camera phones for more than clicking pics for your facebook updates. Take their face, take their number plate, write a short note on the incident and MAIL me = jhoomur@gmail.com.

AND watch as we take this initiative OFF the blog, IN the paper and ON the street. BUT, I NEED your help....CLICK women, CLICK. Let's give these guys a taste of their own medicine. Come, Romeos, come letch at me, am ready for you. If camera-phones can be used for dirty MMSes, we can use them here as well.

Lesson 4: Yours, Litter-ally, Indian!

2007-08-28T19:44:00.000-07:00

It happens only in India

I will not throw my cigarette butts and toffee wrappers on the road. If need be, I shall wrap those in a paper to throw in a bin later. Or use the ashtray in my car. That’s my contribution today. Yours?

Sree, writes/contributes from Canada and says, "30 States, 1618 languages, 6400 castes, 6 religions. My India. And here is my application in white paper for the J.Bo, J Bites Indian Shitizenship.

We Are The Litter Soldiers.

An ad campaign on Indian Television few years ago: A taxi driver at a traffic signal, spitting on the road. A woman in a car drives close to the taxi, lowers her window glasses, looks at the taxi driver and says "Cheee" making a grimace. The taxi driver has an embarrassed look. A slogan shows up on screen: “Say Cheeee, Keep Mumbai Clean"

Likewise, it is my dream too to have a litter free India.

We, as a nation, have made several sincere attempts to keep our streets clean. All of it died out in time. We Indians have short memories; let it be an explosion or an eruption, OR a litter free campaign.

When America still cries for a 9/11, we have moved on with every disaster that has hit our land. We are eager to get back to what we call a normal life. If only we just pause and think for a while, the getting back to life can be made better than the same old same old. If only we develop the mentality that having better things in life is not being less humble. If only… We just stop littering on the streets.

An Indian, who spits and pees in one super-shot on our streets, is able to control and quit while in a foreign land where it is punishable. Makes me wonder what we can do to inject some sense of patriotism in our everyday life other than just painting faces in tricolours or spending Rs 5 on a microscopic flag on an August 15^th.

Do we need to give out flowers to everyone who peepee in public and hope that such embarassment/ Gandhigiri, will make them quit? He would probably find a flower free space to unzip his pants.

Nothing works in India, and let me say in the same breath that we can make it work in India. And thus my wish to RIP in a litter-free, clean India can be made possible. I often visualize the nightmare of having an unsatisfied death knowing that I shall be taken through a litter-some street for my funeral.

Canada has a Litter King who did the unthinkable by legally changing his name to 'Litter King’, so that no one will forget about his mission to keep the streets of his country litter free. He walks with an ice cream bucket as his crown and cleans trash from the streets. And he hopes one day his campaign catches on. His message to his people,"Protect Your Land. Okay?”

One man just might make a difference in a country like Canada, where almost all the streets are litter free. The Litter King has the task to finish off the already satisfactory job or remind his countrymen about the importance of having a clean land. But in India, we need several minds to unite and start from scratch.

We should protect our land, very much like the brave soldiers who fought in Kargil.We are the Litter Soldiers. But how? Ad campaigns alone seldom work. We have seen that.

Gandhigiri seems to work when aimed at aforeign land and its people, rather than our own.

When the Gujarat disaster happened few years ago in 2001, there was an online campaign started by a website to light virtual lamps for the departed souls. Several thousands were lit by Indians all over the globe. People seem to think better in front of a computer. And right here we have the bloggers’ strength to pretty much scribble down our dreams about a better India. And let me dream, that someday we can make some of it, if not all, a reality.

__________________

Thanks Sree!

PS: It takes one, we now have three writing here: two out of those will not litter. Not bad at all. Happy at this small, small start… and hoping for more. We need more. Come one, come all…and even if you want to laugh at us, just pass on the message, okay? :)

Please DO mail your contributions - foxytanya@gmail.com: It could be anything, something you write, a funny picture you have taken, share a recipe by the aunty in your locality....anything that is India.

One good Indian: Armene Modi

2007-08-28T02:53:00.000-07:00

Pune: Seventeen-year-old Anita's little sister helps her wash her bike everyday in the hopes of getting a quick joyride. But for Anita, the cycle is more than just a form of transport. It's an engine of change.

"Initially, I was studying in a Marathi medium school in Sone Sanghvi, but since last three years I have been coming to this place. I used to walk and got late every day. Even my teacher used to get angry. But ever since I have got my cycle, I am able to reach on time,” says Anita.

Traveling to a school seven kms away was an uphill task for many teenage girls in the Shirur taluka of Maharashtra. Until bicycles came their way through an NGO called "Ashta No Kai" which means 'a better future'.

It's founder Armene Modi wanted to raise the literacy level among women in Shirur. So she started a bicycle bank, to help young girls take the road less traveled.

"We started to give to girls at a very nominal cost of Rs 300 deposit. When the girl finished high school we asked her to return the bicycle and recycled it to another girl,” says Armene Modi.

According to Armene, the bank has brought about a visible change in the girls attitudes.

"We have visibly seen a decrease in the drop out rate and we have visible seen the marriage age of girls increasing,” says Armene.

Initially, Armene faced a lot of resistance from the villagers. Now there are more takers than donors for these prized vehicles. Armene says even though the literacy rate of girls has risen in Shirur her work is far from done. She wants every girl in Shirur to ride her way to success.

Original story: Pune woman helps girls take the road less traveled

PS: this is not promoting any site, will be picking up stories about One good Indian from wherever I can... all those who read about a single person trying something, mail me links at foxytanya@gmail.com

Lesson 3: Auto-drivers, resident evil?

2007-08-27T19:50:00.000-07:00

It happens only in India

I will not sit in any auto that does not go by the meter. I will insist on going by the regulated fare system, even if it means waiting for five minutes for another auto. That’s my bit today. Yours?

(mail contributions to: foxytanya@gmail.com)

General Rule of Rain in Delhi: When it rains, autorickshaw drivers will hike fare prices and will generally haggle/harass more than on other days. Also, I will not haggle and if pissed off sufficiently, will either report the number to the police or note it down and report it to this blog. ;)

I don’t have a car and since whenever I get into a DTC bus, I get into a fight – just a general dislike for being felt up – I have to take autos, like many others in this city.

Now the New Delhi government has introduced the NEW meters in Delhi that start at Rs 10 for the first kilometer and ticks at Rs .45 every 1km. With the introduction of this new fare system, NO auto-driver and I mean NO autodriver has any business to EVEN suggest going without turning down the meter. YOU are supposed to call and inform about the ones who do.

(Calculating auto fare IF it’s the old meter and starts from Rs 8 = Note kilometers on meter and subtract one from it + left-over kilometers multiply by 4.5 = whatever the result, add a Rs 10 to it and pay. Eg. If distance is 10, your fare = 9 x 4.5 + 10 = 50. (erm, use your calculators, i made a mistake calculating even this bit! had written 55 earlier, heh heh)

Since the introduction of new meters (start at Rs 10), auto-drivers have no business charging anything other than what that meter says, no matter how long or short the distance. They even try, “It’s Sunday” madame to get more money out of you.

NOW, earlier the Delhi Traffic Police HAD a complaint number printed on most autos: It was mandatory to write down the complaint number at the back of the auto-drivers' seat and also behind or on the sides of the auto. The mandate being that the complaint number had to be conspicuously displayed.

Today, that number does NOT work. IF you DO call the Delhi Police on 100, the calls are not answered. The Police Control Room (PCR, 100) was called at 1.24pm yesterday (August 27); but there was NO RESPONSE. Delhi Police insists that they ALWAYS pick up calls or return calls. There is a caller-id facility that they have. So what’s happening Delhi Police… rakhi holidays perhaps?

Interestingly, once you DO call the PCR van and it arrives, the policemen will do their best to NOT register a complaint. PLEASE REMEMBER: If you EVER make a complaint to the police, no matter how mundane, have it written in their log books – every PCR van is SUPPOSED to carry a log book – and ASK them for a complaint number. Unless you are Sonia Gandhi or Shilpa Shetty, they will not remember your complaint; and since most policemen anyway suffer from voluntary amnesia; PLEASE take that complaint number. It works as your PAN number when dealing with the police.

Yes, auto-drivers are also trying to earn their livelihood; but since I TOO work hard for my money, I really don’t like parting with it more than I have to. Perhaps you can pay a Rs 100 for a distance where you should perhaps pay Rs 70… please DO NOT pay that extra Rs 30 out of sympathy or whatever. Not everyone can pay that extra money and it’s like letting a carnivore taste human blood…

Furthermore, since there is no Traffic Police number to call and Delhi Police DOES NOT respond to calls; KINDLY note down rogue auto-drivers’ numbers and mail me; or post as a comment on this blog. Once there are 50-odd numbers, I WILL approach the Police and ask for answers. Of course meanwhile, I shall be calling them if and when need arises. And once they do NOT respond to my call, say five times, I will take my call records and approach them. Oh yes.

If you can take pictures of autodrivers when they refuse to take you anywhere – they usually sit with their legs up looking nonchalant while refusing, makes for a fun pic – please use the camera on your mobile phones, take the pic of the driver and the auto with the number visible and mail me (foxytanya@gmail.com). Let us see HOW long does this official loot continue.

I don’t know the public transport complaint rules – read cab/ auto – rules in other cities. Those who know, would appreciate if you fill me in. Also, if people reading from other cities can give complaint numbers to reach the authorities; would be grateful.

Meanwhile, here are the autowallahs who refused to budge because it was a Sunday and wouldn’t go by meter. Two of them also said: “Dekhte hain tum kya karti ho.” (Let’s see what you do). Well, very soon.

DL 1R F 3256: this man is also a marijuana smoker and is so stoned and argumentative, you should not sit in his auto at all!
DL 1H R 1729

Dial-an-auto-service: However, not ALL auto drivers are the Devil’s minions. A whole lot of them are hard-working people working to meet ends meet… Even before they get money home, they have to pay something like Rs 250 as a daily rental for using an auto. An autorickshaw costs Rs 1-3 lakhs (additional 5000 to install a new meter); and not every autodriver can afford to take a loan for the same. So they drive rented autos according to pre-decided time slots. Some auto-drivers have started keeping cell phones and you can call them like a taxi-service. Am collecting numbers and will start publishing them here soon so that those in given localities may avail the service.

Meanwhile, some taxi numbers – tried and tested – good service, non-interfering and always provide a taxi.
Chhote Yadav, Vasant Kunj: 9868748342
Taxu Ranvir, Gurgaon/VK: 98116-18863
Delhi Traffic Police landline: 011-2337888
More to come…

PS: The Blank Noise Project and I love street dogs do NOT link to this site. However, both are trying to work in different fields that need help in India. Got pictures of street dogs that have been adopted? Please mail them to me...will pass them on to blog moderator on doggie-blog.

Lesson 2: The Solo Soldier

2007-08-27T01:05:00.000-07:00

It happens only in India

I will not jump any red light today or allow those whose cars I ride in to do it either. That's my contribution today. Yours?

Traffic signals in India are like a microcosm in themselves. Much happens at a traffic signal: It’s a market place for everything from flowers to toys to magazines and incense stick, it’s a place where along with alms, lives, love and hope are found and lost. Some people sleep at traffic lights. Some fall in love – well they did in Kaho Naa Pyar Hai! Many earn their livelihoods on traffic lights; and I mean the beggars and vendors AND the money-extorting traffic cops. And also, traffic signals/lights have stories to tell. Stories that are played out daily, each time the light changes. Here, our first contributor, blogger Crimson Feet shares the story of the Solo Soldier.

The Solo Soldier (renamed from original blog)

The best part about moving from Bombay to Noida has been the drastic changes in my travel routine...
Local train ---> Royal Enfield Thunderbird
1hr 17 min one way ---> 17 min door-to-door
Expensive cab rides ----> Peaceful bike sojourns
Cramped roads with pollution ----> Wide roads with pollution ;)
Saturday night frenzy ---> Weekend travel to Dehradun/Rishikesh/Chandigarh/Lucknow etc

I like to have my Sony thump crooning my favrourite number right into my brain during these peaceful bike rides to and fro bet home and office. A few days ago I saw an old man shouting through a hand-held loudspeaker on a traffic signal on my way back from office.

His shirt read “Follow traffic rules”: Yatayat ke niyamon ka palan karein.

He was old but looked ferociously serious about what he was saying. I could only “see” him till I switched the thump off and tried to “hear” him. Too much noise, I couldn’t pick a word. The seconds remaining on the signal were getting closer to zero, and throttles were being pulled... He looked back, and with a thumping conclusion to his speech, moved aside to let the traffic pass...

Between Noida’s Sector 29 and 58, there are five-six traffic signals, and rule violation is so rampant, that when I decide to stop at a red light; I fear I will cause an accident because EVERY other commuter is jumping the red light and I am the ONLY one standing!

Still, PROUDLY yet, I do STOP when it’s a red light. Of course the worst part is when MY signal is green and I find commuters ready to bang into me irresepctive of their situation in life and on the road!

The old man seemed hesitantly proud of himself too. He looked "ignored" and YET had the conviction to keep doing what HE felt was a good thing to do... May be he had had a tragedy in his family, maybe he was mad. As I crossed him, I wanted to catch his eye and nod approvingly. He never looked At anyone, just stared blankly into nothing; and I felt him to be more alive than most of us commuters...

I think he should know that his effort is NOT going waste.

PS: Crimson Feet, thankyou for this.... Please tell him next time… And if anyone else living in Noida sees this old man, Stop, and thank. And DON’T jump that light.

Those interested in contributing: Please mail links or pieces you have written, or
pictures you have taken to : foxytanya@gmail.com

Lesson 1: Aao, tamasha dekhen

2007-08-25T23:08:00.000-07:00

(come let's watch the show/fun)
It happens only in India

“Kuch karna zaroori hai kya? Why cannot you be content to see what is happening around you? And anyway, what have you done so far that you think you can make a difference?” said one. “One person’s will or wanting it does not really matter when we are 6 billion of us clubbed together sharing the same resources,” said another. And that’s what it boils down to: Those who care, those who don’t and those who pretend they don’t give a damn. We’ve just reached the 60-years-of-Indepedence landmark; and yet some things really make me wonder if that figure means anything at all. Both good and bad things. We cannot answer if one person can make a difference. You see, because usually, for one person to make ANY difference, he/she needs MORE PEOPLE behind them. This is one start, hoping more would join.

In the time of superheroes, this country needs a Hero.

We are not it. We are the anti-heroes. Show allegiance, join in, we need more people to write here. Whenever you want to, or talk and share stories. A course in writing or workshop is not needed, just a will and a want are. Don't send friend requests. We don't care for friends. But we care for ideas. It is our country, and yours; and we are not bothered about those who don't care. Yet.

THOSE WHO WANT TO MAIL ME STORIES, INSIGHTS, VIEWS OR PICTURES ON INDIA FOR THIS BLOG, MAIL AT: foxytanya@gmail.com

I will not let my auto-driver get on to the pavement today, or zigzag through traffic. That would be my contribution today. Yours?

The real reason behind road accidents in India are not malfunctioning traffic lights (when it rains and when it doesn’t), lack of road sense or general apathy to rules. It is Morons.

Like the morons who ride bikes and think that unless they stand two inches in front of the stop line, their peepees (PP, pyari penis) will shrink. To reach the beginning-of-the-line, they will zigzag through an already-constricted traffic, causing further confusion and much honking. THEN, in their excitement of having reached ahead, they will promptly twist the front tyre, lose control and fall, JUST as the light turns green. So that others either run him over or brake suddenly. Result: An accident.

Or, those morons, who immediately brake, right in the middle of oncoming traffic: To WATCH an altercation or fight happening on the side of the road. And they’re usually looking at the other side of the road. Or at girls standing at bus stops, or inside autorickshaws or are walking on the pavement. All this while, their bike’s noses will be right in your car’s backside, so that if you break, either the moron goes flying on to your bumper or lands on the road. Result: An accident.

And of course, those morons who think pavements are to pave their path for reaching ahead of others. If in India, NEVER walk on pavements: You are most likely to get killed there. (Thinks of certain film stars and big industrialist son’s practicing their obstacle driving skills on pavements…)

Or the coupled morons with her happily massaging his back and him craning his neck backwards to listen to her or blissful in the massage. To prolong their mutual pleasure, the coupled morons usually ride at 20 kph in the middle of heavy traffic, the other fast movers circling them, creating a sort of mid-traffic love island, honking like crazy, sending dirty looks… while our coupled morons ride on unaffected… Till someone either bumps into them or vice-versa. Result: An accident.

The bigger the crowd around an accident sight, the more likely it is to watch either a death scene or a fist-fight. It is REALLY funny, how Indians stop on their way – presumably to work or other important destinations – to watch an Accident Scenario. We have all the time in the world. No wonder productivity sucks.

But we hardly help. Because we like a good show, but don’t want to be part of it ourselves. Because we wonder what’s in it for us. Or how it would inconvenience us. Or perhaps, MOST of the time, we just don’t care. Tamasha hai, let’s watch. Yes, there are those who help etc; just don’t go expecting it. you don’t get miracles and change of character on a daily basis.