Child is Father of the Man

Once you turn fifty, somehow the focus of your immediate family and friends shifts to your children. Nobody seems to be bothered whether you’re a vice-president or a senior vice-president. They all want to know the status of your children. If you have a decent reply [engineering, medicine, studying abroad,….], you are admired for good parenting. Otherwise, you become an object of pity and hence a source of sadistic pleasure for the gathering.
I know of some friends who have dropped out of social get-togethers dreading this uncomfortable probe.
“The first half of our lives is ruined by our parents, and the second half by our children”-Clarence Darrow

Increased Clockspeed

Time is indeed of the essence.
For a good decade, I had resigned to wasting about an hour in the bank to withdraw cash. When the Teller system got introduced I was delighted. 30 minutes felt like a breeze. Then came the ATM and my joy knew no bounds.
Yesterday, I caught myself fuming at a customer who was fumbling through the process inside the ATM booth. The 2 min wait wore like hours on my patience!

The Auburn Haired

I have always been intrigued by human nature that praises the dead and derides the living. May be because we are dead sure that the praise will not be of any benefit to the departed!
Be that as it may.
It tickles my funny bone when I read the obit of a notorious rogue that carries some chosen quotes from the Gita to signify that he in life was indeed an evolved and noble soul!

“When red-haired people are above a certain social grade their hair is auburn” -Mark Twain

“Monkeys will never let go of the garlands” – a Tamil saying

The proposed education reform marks the highest grade of ignorance of real issues.
While Kapil Sibal’s thesis is at best an uneducated drivel, the media debates reflect illuminating illiteracy.
The core issue of inadequate seats in colleges can not be wished away by changing the valuation from marks to grades. Till then, whatever criteria that the populist stream may advocate, the intelligent and hard working children will find a way of staying in the front of the queue.
The good news is that the Indian polity has not still found a way of usurping the intelligence genes from the minority haves and distributing them free thru quotas to the majority have-nots!

Greek Tragedy

It’s almost a year since I blogged!
The metro bridge collapse in Delhi triggered the fuse.
I had, in an earlier post, shared my friend Karupp’s angst at the quota system for teaching jobs.
The flawed reservation logic has led to infusion of incompetent people into the Government bureaucracy and the country is now paying the price. The system’s output quality has to necessarily reflect the quality of its components.
The bridge collapse is symbolic of the heavy burden that the Government system bears owing to the weight of incompetence.
It is a Greek Tragedy that will play its full course.

Rite of passage

‘Puberty function of Ramya’; the signboard displayed the queasy plight of yet another young girl in Madras.
Considering that the celebration was in a star hotel, I assume that Ramya’s parents are rich; enough to have bought her education in an up market convent school. And the school would have instilled a set of social ethos in Ramya’s adolescent mind to aid her navigate the modern world.
I am disgusted at this tribal ritual and its perpetrators. The rigid caste system seems to have no qualms- rather revel- in mauling, under glaring lights, the fine strands of sensitivities of vernal girls.
When would the parents come of age?

Education is the transmission of civilization

Karuppusami is my schoolmate. He was one of the top rankers in the school. He chose to join his father in agriculture in preference to college education.
Karupps is a rich farmer and commands social and political clout in his village. He is erudite and has an enviable range of interests from philosophy to American politics.
Over dinner, he was lamenting on an aspect that seems to have escaped the grasp of the self styled champions of low caste interests. Karupps’s argument is that while granting OBC quota in school admissions, the Govt. should not have interfered in the appointment of teachers. “How can you impart quality education to the BCs with teachers appointed on the basis of reservation instead of merit?”, he asked in angst. This flawed logic has led to ill- equipped teachers teaching students who need augmented help to get through education. The upper caste children are aided by parents at home and/or through expensive private tuitions.
In mock irony, Karupps concluded that the Brahmins should be drafted in the teaching service.
I quote Peter F Drucker.
“Teaching is the only major occupation of man for which we have not yet developed tools that make an average person capable of competence and performance. In teaching we rely on the ‘naturals,’ the ones who somehow know how to teach.”

An idle mind is Gallup’s workshop

Last weekend, I chose to poll the members at the club lounge on their top of mind problems. The findings make for a real commentary on modern living and unemployment.
The four top concerns related to finding a good driver, cook, maid servant and baby sitter. Even the offer of a handsome salary – as much as 10k for a full time driver and 5k for a part time servant –is not attracting the right candidates, they lamented. They talked about attrition and poaching with the intensity of IT honchos!
With high unemployment levels, this phenomenon is indeed a paradox.
The mystery was unravelled yesterday. Our servant didn’t turn up for work and my wife tried to talk a beggar woman into sweeping the portico for a fee. The woman preferring to beg for Rs.2 than to earn Rs.10, walked away.
The income from begging must be sizable to afford this attitude. I am curious to know the average income of beggars in Madras and if it will attract tax.

Curse of beauty!

I belong to a fairly well heeled social circle in Madras. Many of them are highly regarded professionals and scions of big industrialist families.
I attended a wedding last week. Looking around, I stumbled on to a mysterious discovery. The women behind these successful men, with rare exceptions, were very ordinary looking.
I wonder why the cream of the society has not married the glamour girls like models and film stars. While it is admissible to dream about them, at a stretch even have illicit liaisons, marrying the glam girls seems to be taboo. Surprisingly even the politicians shun them. The entire beauty pageant end up marrying the underworld dons.
It is not about diffidence to the professional success of these stars. Doctors, lawyers and professors are definitely in the preferred partner category.
Somehow the logic has set in; models and film stars are not chiseled to be good life mates. They are passable in private scrap books but definitely not in the marriage albums.
Their parents are well advised to advertise in the D company circles for eligible grooms!

How to become rich!

Shankara propounded Advaita, considered as the best treatise on Vedanta. Having expounded such a sublime philosophy, why did Shankara author the Kanakadhara Stotram, a DIY to attain material wealth; I have often wondered.
People can add an alphabet to the name or wear a gemstone towards fulfilling their greed. If the attempts fail, as they often do, they can blame the resident expert who advised them. But, if the Kanakadhara Stotram were to fail, wouldn’t it be a slur on the divine philosopher. The thought used to nag me.
I found the clarification in one of the speeches of HH Paramacharyal of Kanchi.
The anecdote starts with Adi Shankara knocking at the poor brahmin’s door for his daily biksha. Impoverished to just a rotten nellikai in the house, the Brahmin couple are embarrassed by their inability to oblige. Finally, for want of a better choice, they part with the nellikai with great discomfiture. Most raconteurs stop the anecdote at this point when Shankara, in benign appreciation, chants the Kanakadhara Stotram and the skies open up to shower gold coins.
Paramacharyal beseeches us to understand this ‘miracle’ in context. Gods shower wealth on those who pray, not for stockpiling but, for becoming a worthwhile conduit to the needy. In that sense, people who assume the role of ‘dispenser of wealth’ as their life’s calling will be blessed with abundant flow of wealth to assist them in their charitable dispositions.
Warren Buffet perhaps has the clearest understanding of Kanakadhara Stotram when he holds forth on ‘creative capitalism’ and walks his talk by donating billions to the B& M Gates Foundation

Humour in uniform

Raja was my Regional Manager at Bombay. Indian Airlines had just then announced the introduction of Business class in the metro flights.
Raja promptly shot off a mail to KG, the Personnel Manager, with the newspaper clipping. The message was in the tone of ‘in case you didn’t know… time to amend the travel eligibility rules for the senior managers…’
The mail went under the ‘regular series’ and not under the ‘confidential’ marking. Raja was sure that he will be in the upgraded list and wanted the office to be impressed when the reply came.
KG’s reply came soon.
‘Thanks for sharing the news. Those entitled have already been informed’.
The office was indeed impressed…. by KG’s wit.

“In my stars I am above thee”

I am not into politics and must confess to a large degree of naiveté in my political analysis.
The air is full of pundits discussing nuclear deal, inflation, outside support and trust motion.
I am not able to comprehend the electoral nuances and am being politely ignored at the club lounge. For long used to being the dispenser of wisdom on all topics fair and foul, this disability and the consequent neglect are driving me to depression.
I just discovered that I can draw on my school science knowledge and offer a rational explanation to this maddening process.
The theories that come to my mind are ‘Uncertainty Principle’ and ‘Topological Entropy’.
While the others may quote Rudy and Raja, I will trump them with Heisenberg, Bowen and Dinaburg.
Another contextual buzzword that baffles me is ‘secularism’.
Since I am unable to find a scientific elucidation for this ‘secular’ phenomenon, I have decided to categorize the political parties as, a la Malvalio, “some are born secular, some achieve secularism, and some have secularism thrust upon’em”.
I am all set for my weekend discourse at the club.

The cardinal line

Each religion has a cardinal line prescribing the minimum conditions that define its interface boundary. It could be a well written scripture like the Bible or the Koran or a collective conscience drawn from many scriptures as in Hinduism [like an open source movement].
The cardinal line is meant for the majority who do not have either the time & opportunity or the intellect & wisdom to contemplate transition towards the Ultimate Truth.
Hence, these minimum conditions stress more on behavior than on attitude. The prescriptions constitute the dos and donts - rites, rituals, and moral codes.
Staying on the right side of the cardinal line allows people the leeway to define the individual way of life in context. For example one can be comfortable chanting the gayatri on way to work or do pujas with woolens in winter.
There are the inevitable debates on the rigor of adherence but the exchanges are rather civil because the protagonists know that they are essentially on the same side.
However the person who chooses to cross the inviolate clauses of the cardinal line subscribes to a life of misery.
Marrying out of religion is one such clause. It leaves the person out in the cold without reference points for guidance. I would advocate conversion to the spouse’s religion in such an instance. It is warmer to be inside some line than out.
This cardinal line theory also explains the shrill arguments of the outsider disparaging the insiders on the degree of their shift away from the pivotal coordinates. There is a vast difference from the secular posturing of the insiders and the outsiders.
The insider’s stance is an indulgence, an intellectual [though, in my pov, misguided] pastime and would effortlessly shift gear when it applies to self.
The outsider’s is the cry of a tormented soul. And my reply to that is ‘You may argue that I am inside only by a fraction but I am still inside and you are outside.’

Mixing metaphors

I strongly feel that politicians, from ward councilors to MPs, should never be put in prison for their unlawful acts.
A politician at large is not as much of a threat to the common citizen as he is to the others in politics.
If X [fill in any politician that you know] walks the corridors free, he is a danger, sometimes even life threatening, to politicians in set Y [fill in the names of his opponents both in his party and outside].
My contention is that if X is in no way a threat to me, why should I pay to feed him in prison with my tax money. Let him be free to keep the Ys engaged in mortal combat.
X and the set Y are like apoptotic cells. Their programmed suicide is healthy for body politic.
Punishing them is inflicting necrosis. In contrast to apoptosis, necrotic cells cause escalating pain during degeneration and the eventual cleanup of cell debris is more difficult.
My vote is for the party that will constitutionalise legal immunity to the politicians.

Spring and Autumn in Madras

Schools are closed for term break in the US and the children are all over Madras for their annual tryst with Tamil Brahmin culture.
It is also appraisal time for the parents. They have to win appreciation from the family elders for their accomplishment in educating the progeny on Brahmin sastras and sampradhayams. The children on parade promptly oblige and delight the grandparents with slokas and bharatnatyam steps. The atmosphere is wholesome and the air resonates with waves of pride and joy.

Sethu Iyer is gently rocking into siesta in the easy chair. Sita has gone shopping with Krish, Liz and Jay.
“Jay sounds good. Rueben Krishnan would have been embarrassing.” Sethu chuckles, “the toddler is bright and quick to grasp; just like his father, ahem, like his grandfather”. The thought tickles him to a whispery smile.
The bright rose color of the invitation disturbs his eye. Vasan’s grandson’s upanayanam is next week.
Sethu wakes up to a new reality.
His eyes turn to his father’s sepia on the wall. “appa, what did I do wrong?” his eyes swell and the mind comforts him in wry humor “after my time, we both will be hungry on amavasyas”.
Sipping a glass of water, Sethu drowns the lump in the throat. Working up some cheer, he gets ready to introduce Wren and Martin to Jay; “has a good vocabulary but needs to improve his grammar”.