A writer is expected to follow the secular formula, which is to show how Hinduism is inferior to other religions; how superstitious and stupid Hindus are; how evil caste‐system is; how vile Brahmins, Kshatriyas and Vaishyas are and how suppressed Shudras are. Show how violent Hindu mythology is, while the very word of Islam means peace. Show that just like Islam and Christianity, Hinduism is also an import in India, having no original claim. Make Hindu history in India as short as possible. At the same time, extend the Christian and Islamic claims on Indian soil as long back in history as possible. Throw in some exotic stories of widow burning, caste discrimination, infanticide etc. to pepper this secular curry.

Do not, in any case, criticize Islam! Try to extol its virtues, and if not possible just keep mum about its atrocities. Show how they are extremely discriminated in every field such as education and employment. Also, do not criticize Christianity and their violent conversion activities.

Shift the focus of readers from primary problems like the Islamic destruction of India to secondary problems like corruption, poverty, population, unemployment etc.

Superbly put! While an engaging read to some extent, I wouldn’t say it had literary merit. The Booker was clearly undeserved.

The badly concealed anti-Hindu sentiments permeating the works of writers like Roy and Adiga (Desai I haven’t read), makes me wonder why are they so hell-bent on heaping calumny on a group so averse to harm – physical or otherwise. The passivity of the Hindu is clearly taken as a free-ranging license to harangue, knowing fully well that similar acts against Muslims and Christians rarely go “unpunished".

AWARE, a 25-year-old Singaporean women’s rights organization, recently found itself in turmoil after a coup orchestrated by conservative fundamentalist Christians who signed up in large numbers just before the annual general meeting, then elected a new executive that immediately purged the organization of all its traditional leadership down to the subcommittee chairs.

Essentially a leadership grab by a particular Church, AWARE’s actions are now undermined by the undue influence exerted by the belief system of the new leadership.

It’s a disturbing trend in Singapore though. Where overt public influence of the Christian faith, especially in its evangelical and proselytizing flavours, prosper uncurbed by the authorities, even as members of other faiths wilfully subjugate, or shy away from their religious inclinations in the official arena. In schools and colleges, evangelical Christian groups are allowed free reign to "spread the message" as is their "duty". Those with no religious inclination are subtlely yet persuasively dragged into such gatherings on the pretext of "making friends", the ulterior aim being to add yet another number to the Ministry’s swelling ranks.

May 2 ‘09 Update: In a rare defeat for the Christian right, the new Ex-Co was booted out by the “old guard”, returning AWARE to its secular and non-homo-phobic roots.

The wholesale massacres and ethnic cleansing of millions from the then-East Pakistan in 1971, the forced migration of 400,000 Kashmiri Pandits from their ancestral lands in 1989, the virtual disappearance of Hindus from Pakistan and Bangladesh — the victims of oppression have been overwhelmingly Hindu.

Today, Sri Lankan Hindus are dying because of the reign of terror unleashed by a Christian-run terrorist group, the LTTE [Images]. Which, incidentally, is eerily similar to the so-called Maoists who terrorise Nepal and 180 districts of India: Circumstantial evidence suggests that they are aligned with and possibly funded by Christian missionaries, and that they owe their allegiance not to China, but to Christian cults.

In Malaysia, Hindu activists have protested severe repression, including forcible conversions and the destruction of scores of temples. In Fiji, there are frequent news reports of desecrations of Hindu temples.

It’s most frustrating when people like Tharoor champion the causes of Palestinians and other disenfranchised Muslims in India and the world, while:

he refuse(s) to be equally vocal in support of Kashmiri Pandits, rotting away in refugee camps 20 years after they were ethnically cleansed? Why does he write a book called Riot in which he squarely blames Hindus for religious riots when the record shows that practically every riot in India has been instigated by the belligerence of Semitic faiths, including massacres and assassinations and burning people alive? And that those who suffer in these riots are predominantly Hindus, given that they not armed, and also given that when the government offers succour, Hindus are always the last to get any benefits?

Shashi Tharoor, like the other educated Hindus of his ilk are in fact:

striking at the very root of what makes India a viable nation. I have always been amazed at this ‘Kalidasa Syndrome’ — the ability of the Indian chatterati to cut off the branch that they are sitting on. For, it is only because of Hindu tolerance and Hindu values that India is a halfway-viable country.

If this Hinduism were to vanish — which the Congress and its governments have consistently done their utmost to do — India would be far worse off. This is not conjecture: we have in front of us what happens to a territory when Hinduism is forcibly exterminated — that is Exhibit A, Pakistan, the quintessential failed State and epicentre of terrorism, possibly the worst place in the world to live in, certainly if you are not of the ruling class, a Punjabi Mohammedan army officer in the ISI.

In fact, more than any country in the world, Hindus as a major collective group and Hinduism as a way of life are most at risk in India.

The existing system of governance in India is completely antagonistic to Hindus, and seems to be intent on destroying Hinduism. For instance, there was the deliberate and premeditated murder of Swami Laxmananada in Orissa. This has been attributed to some apocryphal Maoists and dismissed as inconsequential, whereas it is clear that those who had the motive — and who had attacked him previously — were Christians.

Similarly, Hindu institutions are damaged with no compunctions. But they dare not speak about a Semitic entity. This was demonstrated in Kerala [Images] when the Devaswom minister (an abomination, by the way — what happened to separation of Church and State?) kept making rude pronouncements about Hindus and Hindu temples like Sabarimala, and everybody thought this quite amusing. But when he made some mild criticism of the Christians, he was forced to eat his words and apologise abjectly.

Three weeks ago, the Adi Sankara temple in Kalady, Kerala, his birthplace, suffered a grievous attack: thieves broke into the sanctum sanctorum and stole a precious emerald Siva linga, which is valued at over Rs 1 crore simply as a gem, and is priceless as a religious artifact. Is Hindu religious sentiment hurt by this? Of course. But did a single English-language newspaper even report this? Of course not. But they thunder ‘oppression’ if the authorities ask that a Semitic cemetery be moved to widen a road.

Speaking of Adi Sankara — one of the most important figures in Hinduism, and possibly the person most responsible for its revival in medieval times. Kochi’s airport was built in a village just a couple of miles away from Kalady. But when it was suggested that the airport should be named after him, the response from some was that it should be named after the beatified Agnese Gonxhe Bojaxhiu, alias M Teresa. Exactly what does the Albanian MT have to do with the area? Nothing whatsoever. It was a red herring. But a ‘compromise’ was ‘worked out’ so that the airport would not be named after anybody. The very legitimate Hindu claim was negated by an absurd counter-claim; moral: Hindu sentiments do not count.

This sort of automatic knee-jerk derision for Hindu concerns has seen its nadir in the Rama Sethu case and the unbelievable calumny heaped upon the religion by the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam, a partner of the Congress.

In all these cases, the Congress has always sided against the Hindus. The Congress government in Andhra Pradesh is openly supporting proselytisation, with the chief minister’s son-in-law himself holding huge rallies to convert Hindus to some Christian cult.

This is secular? Of course not, it is openly communal and anti-secular. It is apartheid, oppression of a powerless numerical majority — exactly what used to happen to blacks in South Africa

I wish for the Hindus in India, even those only nominally so, to realize this gross injustice being wreaked upon a race so dignified throughout history. Despite the decadences that crept into Hindu society, and degradations that seeped in due course of time, it is as Srinivasan notes, “only because of Hindu tolerance and Hindu values that India is a halfway-viable country.” When people speak of a Hindu nation, it is precisely the notion of acceptance of all paths to spiritual fulfillment that only Hinduism recognizes, that is being alluded to. Secularists and self-proclaimed atheists are most welcome into this fold as they remain unmolested simply because Hindus accept them as they are. Who else wants to?

Obama’s Race Speech

NY Times jump page for further analysis
Boston Globe Editorial

Tags: politicsin-the-news

Frustrated and starving, the travelers were at a loss. They stood in
the village square, looked around, and came up with a plan.

One traveler built a cooking fire in the center of town. The other
borrowed a large cooking pot, filled it with water, and put it on the
cooking fire. Then he found a small, smooth stone, and put it into the
pot. The travelers sat by the pot, waiting for it to simmer, warming
their hands by the fire.

Curious villagers started peeking through their window curtains and
cracking their doors. Finally, one villager approached the travelers,
and asked what they were doing with the pot.

“Stone Soup!” the travelers told the villager. “We’re making a
delicious Stone Soup. We’re so tired and hungry from our journey, but
this Stone Soup will warm our bones and fill our stomachs.” Word
traveled amongst the villagers that these fellows were making soup
right under their noses in the town square, and more villagers, curious
and hungry, came out of their doors to stare.

One traveler turned to the other and said loudly, so everyone could
hear: “But if only we had some onions. Onions would really make this
Stone Soup perfect.”

A villager stepped forward. “I have an onion, ” she said. “If I give
you my onion, may I have some soup?” The traveler agreed, and in the
pot the onion went. The other villagers looked on with interest.

“You know what would taste so good in this Stone Soup?” a traveler
said. “Potatoes. I bet a few potatoes would make this soup taste really
good.” Another villager volunteered: “I’ve got a few potatoes in my
cupboard . I’ll put my potatoes in the soup if I can have a bowl.” The
travelers agreed, and there went the potatoes.

You can see where this story is going. Next up were carrots, and
celery, and salt, and soon, the vat was filled with the makings of a
delicious soup, that everyone in the village feasted on.

Indeed, Gmail, Firefox (and current browser of choice, Flock) have benefited from this :stone soup” approach to development.

Blogged with Flock

Blogged with Flock

In the annals of technology, the dissolution of Motorola’s cell-phone business would mark the end of an era. This is the company that invented the market in 1983, and then built a reputation for iconic, if only occasional, design blockbusters. It wowed the market with its StarTac in 1996, riding high as the world’s No. 1 mobile-phone producer. After being usurped by Nokia, it generated talk that it might once again regain the top spot when it introduced the super-thin Razr earlier this decade. Link

It’s always sad to see the end of golden eras. And I guess there can never be too much of a good thing either. Will I stop using my RAZRs – in due time I will – it’s only natural. But I intend to keep the handsets. Should Moto go ahead with its plans, the handsets are gonna be remainders of a bygone era.

Talking as we are about end of eras, Netscape dies officially today:

When Netscape arrived back in 1994, the screeching wail of the dial-up modem was not yet a household sound. But the browser changed that and ignited the growth of the internet by making it easy for anyone to use.

I remember the day I swore never to use IE. Netscape was the way to do it. That was in 1996. Glad to know though that I can’t live without the illustrious antecedent to Netscape – Firefox. I still don’t use IE unless the site forces me to. So Rest in Peace Netscape. Your contributions shall be remembered always.

Blogged with Flock

Blogged with Flock

Tags: technology

To compare the singers would be unfair. Hrishikesh often reminds me of Rahul Dravid, the Indian cricket captain and stalwart of the Indian team – perfect wristwork (‘chord’-work in the case of Hrishikesh), always reliable, unflappable at all times, but perhaps a tad lacking in aggression (as evidenced in his rather meager tally of sixes). With Dravid on the crease, we can be assured of a good result but not necessarily an elevating experience. Hrishikesh was like that – hitting all the right notes but just a tad under-powered (Soulsoup-ji attributes this to his undeniably scrawny build – a subject of a separate discussion thread perhaps). Even in the so-called josheela songs, the enthusiasm in his singing was unmistakable yet I felt a distinct lack of horsepower, like a Ferrari on an off-day at the F1 racecourse. This is not a complaint – more of an “only-if” thought.

Nihira, at the risk of stretching the analogy, is a veritable Tendulkar on form (and what do you know, hails from the same state too). Sizzling every moment on the crease, getting everyone on their feet, thrilling one and all with sublime artistry, but ever the reserved, airs-free, mild-mannered yet consummate professional. True to the nickname we have fondly given her on this forum, Blue Diamond, she stepped out delicately on stage wearing a turquoise top and a pleasant pink skirt. The air crackled as notes so delicate, so exquisite, so finely polished as the Kohinoor, wafted from the stage and reverberated throughout the hall, embracing one and all in its divinity. From her Challenge 2005 favourites, Roz Shaam Aati Hai, Hare Rama Hare Krishna medley, Kajra Re (duet with Hrishikesh) to the brilliantly rendered classical track Mose Chhal Kiye (from The Guide), serene Aao Na (with Hrishikesh), the heart-thumping Nach Baliye (with Hrishikesh), and several more, Nihira wove a magical web of supreme virtuosity, unmatched versatility and sophisticated artistry. Those who claim Nihira is one-trick pony ought to, and I mean really ought to, get an ear transplant, because we don’t know what you are hearing.

To many, the payback of a concert is when the artistes connect with the audience. Such moments were abundant throughout the evening. Be it that lovely, almost beatific, smile Nihira flashed at us, or the cute remarks about how much Hrishikesh loves his wife, Nihira’s hold over the audience was complete.

With the oldies and the melody-lovers appeased, it was time to sate the restless youth. Thankfully, the singers opted for predominantly Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy’s melodies that have just the right mix of melody and rhythm. Both singers loosened up considerably post-intermission (which, owing to the painfully long queues for refreshments, stretched to almost 40 minutes) and had the audience eating out of their hands most of the time. Unfortunately this half of the show also exposed some shockingly rude members of the audience, who heckled the compere, Sanjay Damle, to the extent he decided to end the compering for the rest of the show. That was unfortunate as the compering was indeed of a very high standard. Rarely have I attended a show marshaled by such a knowledgeable compere. Not only were we privy to several interesting tidbits about the songs and music directors, but were also treated to creative shaayaris. However, to the SMS generation (I do not claim to know who the recalcitrants were, but from what I could gather, they sounded like young punks), for whom anything more than four lines is a lecture (hat tip to Rang De Basanti), all this must have been quite an earful. While the compere might have stretched their patience just a wee bit on a couple of occasions, their clamouring for his removal was nothing short of an affront. Self-respecting individual that he is, he dignifiedly stepped back, but not without some well-couched choice words for the rabble-rousers.

That blemish apart, the evening ended on a high note with a high-energy (yes, even Hrishikesh seemed to be charged up by Nihira’s histrionics) rendition of Nach Baliye, which like a couple of numbers before that attracted encore calls. The band did a good job throughout and the sound guys were thoroughly competent, though limited by the average acoustics of the auditorium. The refreshments could have been better organized (that could perhaps have led to the restive audience reactions to the compere – wrong person to redirect your irritation, but hey, who’s being logical here anyway), and the stage could have been more creatively lit (this aspect if anything brought out the immense role technical aspects play in elevating a show to a magical experience like the Shreya Ghoshal). Such minor shortcomings notwithstanding, the show was a tremendous success. We went away humming into the night, and Nihira and Hrishikesh returned to Mumbai, content in having enthralled the audience for a straight three hours and their confidence given a wonderful fillip for forthcoming shows around the world. And Singapore, after hosting two supremely gifted singers over two weekends, can claim to be the arena in Asia for any budding artiste to blossom and gain international recognition.

Shaam to roz aati hai, magar aisi nahin…how true! ONCE MORE, I say!

Shreya Ghoshal’s performance at the Esplanade Concert Hall in Singapore on April 30, 2006, should go down in musical annals as one of the most assured stage performances ever – and perhaps the best for a performer under 25. We are talking about a cavernous venue seating 1800 people, where the patron in the furthest seat is perched at a good 20 metres from and four storeys above the stage – a stage graced by some of the top musicians, vocalists, dancers and philharmonic orchestras from around the world. In short, a stage set for overwhelming a young first-timer. And yet out came Shreya, with a spring in her step and a dazzle in her smile, wearing an angelic blue gagra-choli that reveals a dint of her obvious nubile allure, stunning the audience just like she did 6 years ago in Devdas with the enchanting Silsila Ye Chahat Ka. The audience sufficiently zapped, Shreya began weaving a web of pitch-perfect notes, delicate passages, enticing nuances, and lively chatter. Catching on the audience’s preference for old songs, Shreya launched on a nostalgic medley of Geeta Dutt melodies. The audience has now well and truly surrendered to her irresistible charm, not unlike a precocious child at a party pulling her “uncles’” and “aunties’” heartstrings as they were a fiddle.

And fiddle indeed she did along with the Deepak Pandit (an upcoming music composer from Mumbai) on the electric violin in an inspired Hindustani-jazz fusion jugalbandi (musical dialogue, in this instance between Shreya’s velvety vocals and Deepak’s electrifying violin) based on Rag Misra Jog. Her “filmi” credentials established, this composition revealed the basis for all her success so far – a finely-honed, rock-solid foundation in Hindustani classical music that began at the age of 6 and continues to date; the foundation that allows her to take up assignments in almost any Indian language. As she herself candidly remarked during the concert before rendering a Tamil and Telugu song, “I do not know the meaning of what I’m singing, but the song has such a wonderful melody and rhythm, so let’s all sing something that we do not know!” This was a masterstroke. Suddenly even those for whom Hindi wasn’t the native language and were perhaps a tad distanced from the proceedings (as much of her chatter was in Hindi), felt one with the rest of the audience. She laid a needless caveat – her “live” pronunciation may not be as accurate as on a record. It was perfect, with hardly a trace of accent. Naturally, she had by then also endeared herself to the Bengali audience (“Ami to hei Bengoli” – with an impish grin) with a soothingly melodious number.

Linguistic groups appeased, Shreya raked up the energy levels with some foot-tapping energetic tracks that were nevertheless rooted in melody. Regardless of pace, there was no letting up on tonal quality, range or dynamism. Shreya took to the stage like a born-performer, something quite incredible for those who have watched her from her pre-teen years on TV. The stage could very well have been her own living room – such was the level of comfort she had with it and the musicians (who were excellent in their own right). Her exemplary stage presence came to the fore early on in the show when a lady in the audience requested, quite loudly, for a song sung by Shreya that was released just a few weeks ago (from the film Banaras – A Mystical Love Story). With a smile she said she hadn’t prepared for the song but would sing a mukhda (opening/repeating chorus of a song), if she could be helped with the lyrics. The lady, being a good sport, indeed began prompting her. Shreya upped the ante, asking her to come to the stage and help her out. There were no steps from the floor to the stage, so Shreya went on her knees, close to the lady, who prompted her with the lyrics. Her memory sufficiently jogged, Shreya rendered the song with aplomb. Such spontaneity was truly extraordinary from someone so young and performing for the first time at such a prestigious venue before a large audience. Above all, it spoke volumes about true class.

Never for a moment losing her composure or reserve, even when sportingly taking it upon herself to introduce the musicians (after the organizers fumbled badly with their names) and exhorting loud applause for her male accompanist, Ayub Patel, or when indulging in a slight sashay and shimmy to the rhythm, Shreya Ghoshal remained the epitome of grace and perfection. For someone who was in awe of her talent ever since her Devdas days, I am now truly enamoured by this young talent – and thrilled at the prospect of basking in the magic of her lilting melodies for decades to come. Bravo, Shreya!