Do these green fields look like wasteland to you, mantriji?

The Andhra Pradesh state government describes these fertile paddy fields as `wasteland' and has acquired acres and acres of such fields for developing Special Economic Zones.
I met the farmers here (U Kothapally mandal in Kakinada, East Godavari district) and even in Vizag in Rambilli and Achutapuram mandals.
The desperate farmers said that the government was leaving them with no option but to commit suicide. Incidentally, its the same government that came to power on the crucial farmer vote.
The government has not only forgotten the promises it made to the farmers but also the difference between wasteland and fertile land.

Sorry

I read somewhere that "failed writers and half-wits" blog. The article went on to say/imply that bloggers write rubbish or those who write rubbish choose to blog as their writings cannot appear anywhere else.
Wow!
And I thought blogging was all about sharing ideas and opinions. I think I got too excited not just blogging but also reading interesting blogs from all over the country and the world that the fact that I (like thousands of bloggers) was indulging in this activity as I was a half-wit and a failed writer missed me! Tch. Apologies. But, can't help blogging, sir. So, please put up with the rubbish :(

The high point of Calcutta trip...

Was the visit to Belur Math. The evening I spent at the math was both splendid and serene. Although we reached after sunset and were not allowed to go near the river, my day was made as the campus at that time of the evening was reverberating with the lilting notes of a prayer being sung in the math’s main hall.
The sound of music reached even the farthest end of the sprawling math. I wanted to see the river flowing and imagined sitting by the river and listening to the most soulful bhajan (I assume it was a bhajan) I had heard in a long time.
Nevertheless, the walk around the math was peaceful and seemed to clear my head of all thoughts good and bad. There was a beautiful numbness I felt and wished I could stay in the math’s campus for a lifetime__ breathe fresh air, sit by the river and read my book, listen to prayers in the evening and walk around the campus absorbing its beauty. Sigh.
(pic: www.mapability.com)

Left not right

On the day I was leaving for Calcutta, I got a mail in the morning from a social group protesting the eviction of thousands of people in Singur district to make way for West Bengal’s perhaps most coveted deal in a long time_ a mammoth small car manufacturing plant to be set up by Tata Motors.
The same day, when I landed at Calcutta, I saw Azim Premji stepping into the airport. Later, I read in the newspapers that he was in Calcutta to discuss expansion plans in the state with the chief minister.
Here, I must admit that I have been largely ignorant or rather indifferent to West Bengal’s industrial plans and also the `growth’ it has apparently already witnessed over the last few years. I never paid much attention to industrial or political activity in this part of the country as both, I assumed, remained much the same. The Singur mail and Premji at the airport were, for me, the first indications of business houses evincing interest in the state.
Since it’s been the red `left’ flag ruling the state for as long as one can remember, my view of the state government there has been one which is so pro-poor in its approach that it had forgotten the industrialization needs that a region requires for growth, not to mention the job opportunities that would come with the same. At the same time, what it (the state government) really did for the poor, I fail to understand. Those who do, kindly enlighten me on this.
It was while sifting through various news reports on the Singur displacement issue that I learnt how complacent the state government was being as it made one statement after another on how it would go ahead with its acquisition of farmlands and how displacement at Singur was not really as big an issue as was being made out by the opposition. (Well, I wasn’t touched by Mamata Bannerjee’s tear stained tired face resting against Gandhi’s statue and I am sure nor were the people who were being displaced and were losing their fertile land to the government).
Political parties and their contradictory statements ceased to surprise me long back but since it was the Left in power taking the rather anti-poor stand, that came as a surprise. Is it not the same Left that opposes just about every industrial plan in the country and is incidentally doing so in Andhra Pradesh? Appallingly, in its own state it contradicts itself.
I have, on several occasions, found the left’s reactions rabid such as to those on disinvestments in PSUs and always felt their views on liberalization needed a fresh thinking. And when the party finally looks at industrial growth in its state, it compromises the very interests it had allegedly been fighting for. It even goes about it like other political parties would __ displacing the poor to place and please the rich. So much for the party’s ideology!

Life rating

took this test.. try it out..its fun. but, i disagree with some rating.. fun, nonetheless.

This Is My Life, Rated
Life:	8.2
Mind:	7.5
Body:	7.3
Spirit:	8.8
Friends/Family:	5.8
Love:	7.3
Finance:	8.6
Take the Rate My Life Quiz

Waking up

Disclaimer: the observations here are my personal opinions on a city and should be treated as that. I do not wish to hurt the sentiments of any community or residents of the city in any manner.

Weeks before I left for Calcutta, my Bengali colleagues in office started preparing me for the `pujo’ (yes, I learnt the `a’ of puja is replaced by an `o’ like all things bong, perhaps). They told me about the decked up city and its people, the pandals, the frenzy.
Calcutta, I was told at least 29 times on last count, was splendid during the pujo. Now, I must admit that my last two visits to Calcutta had left me rather disappointed with the city. I found the city of joy’s pace sluggish and I could sense sitting in the yellow-painted cabs a strange dullness and sadness around me. I would inadvertently draw comparisons between Calcutta and Bombay and wonder how the latter was so strikingly vibrant and zestful. The comparison only worsened my dislike for Calcutta. And carrying such an impression about the city, it was difficult for me to think of any festivity shaking Calcutta out of its slumber.
Predictably, I wasn’t in the least excited about my impending trip but decided to view the city and its big festival objectively. Now that I am back, my friends have been asking whether I liked the pujos? Much to their joy, my answer is in the affirmative.
I am not really a festival person and have tried to refrain from community festivities all my life. For this reason I sparingly took part in the Ganpati festival in Bombay when I was there and perhaps never really observed the festival closely.
I did that with Durga Puja in Calcutta and found that it was simply beautiful. I would have not realized the beauty, had I not been dragged out of the house and shown around the pandals in South Calcutta. And it was not just the idols of Goddess Durga and the carefully designed and decorated pandals (some so gorgeous that Bhansali’s Devdas sets would appear sober in comparison), but the activity on the streets was the most striking. The city appeared to be holding an all-night mela with people in their finest clothing (as someone rightly said that people dress up for the pujo as is there is no tomorrow) hopping from one pandal to another, with well-lit buildings providing the perfect festival backdrop.
My better half, who is from Calcutta but was attending the pujo after a long gap, told me about one pujo when he walked 15 kms to cover as many pandals as possible. This time, we moved around in a cab we had booked for the night and saw people walking, sitting on cycle-rickshaws, cars, bikes.. whatever.. but moving around through the night, mingling, talking and yes, like in dandiya nights in Bombay, eyeing strangers and falling in love with them.
When I reached home after my first pandal hopping, I for the first time felt the gloom lift from the city. Calcutta, does wake up from its slumber, to celebrate.