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Showing posts with label Vijay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vijay. Show all posts

Reservation? Yes To that!

By Vijay Narayan

F**k you.

That, dear reader (and by God I hope there’s more than one of you), was the response I received when I mentioned to a friend that I had plans of writing this article. Frankly, I don’t suffer from any illusion that the few of you still reading this feel any differently. A few days ago, I’d have felt the same too.

So here’s the scenario at hand. It’s 9am and I’ve just sat down to write a Political Concepts paper. (I’ve also had an exam the day before, not to mention another one the next day, so it’s safe to assume I’m not thinking as clearly as I would like). The question put forward to me was this. “Based on the concepts of equality and justice, make arguments for and against reservation in Indian education, and finally take a stand.” What follows is something akin to what I scribbled in that paper (and did very well, thank you for asking!)

Honestly, I don’t care for reservation. Reserved seats for people solely because they are minorities? That’s bullshit. That’s the reason (or so I would like to believe) that I did not get into IIT. But for the sake of a decent grade, I shall attempt to answer this as best as possible.

The question of reservation is a tricky one, so let’s try to break it down a bit. For starters, do we really need to help anybody? Well, that one’s easy enough. To a certain degree, we’re all egalitarians (at least the sane ones in a democracy), in that our consciences wouldn’t be clear if we found someone was being treated unfairly/unequally and did nothing about it. To a certain degree, we all want equality. (The outrage following the Shaheen Dhada case and the Delhi rape should be more than enough to prove my point.) . That leaves us with, “Who are we trying to help?”, and “How do we help them?” Since the question has not been more specific, I’ve assumed that we’re talking about people from backward classes who have no access to education, due to a variety of factors that could range from financial problems to social stigma. Also, this argument is being made for students alone, and not for the reservation of teaching positions for the backward classes( Apparently that’s a big debate as well!)

So, how do we help the people in question? This is where we’ve got to consider whether financial remuneration would be the solution. (Most people, including myself until very recently, believe that this is a viable one). If only it were that easy. Studies have shown (They actually exist, says my prof) that a fair number of families belonging to the backward classes are quite well off. If that’s the case, then why can’t they bloody well get in without the help of the college administration? The answer is quite simple. Social Stigma.

Now you and I may have no problem when it comes to interacting with people from other castes, but the same cannot be said for the rest of the country. The caste/class system, banned as it may be , still exists throughout India. And while the fact is lamented, it is generally ignored when it comes to the decision making process. The solution therefore, is the elimination of social stigma. Easier said than done, because it would be excruciatingly difficult to change the mind-set of an entire nation. The only other option is to improve the social standing of those in need. Now, this is a far cry from the preferred solution, but the best that is possible. It may seem ‘unjust’ to the larger sections of society, but the term justice itself is relative, and depends on the situation at hand.

The most important decision now is to pick the theory of equality that we intend to follow while trying to bring about change. The libertarian theory advocates a free market, where all of us are free to make our own decisions without the coercion of the government(which would only interfere to maintain the safety of its citizens). Essentially, survival of the fittest. We’d be equal in the sense that we’re all allowed to do as we please. Granted, even considering this theory seems a little foolish (at least in this country), since the democratic government we have is present to safeguard the future of all its citizens.The Equality of Resources theory also does not pan out, since this could amount to little more than a socialist regime, where resources are distributed in equal measures to all members of society. So while it may help the backward classes, it could potentially lead to a stagnant economy.

But what about equality of welfare or equality of opportunity? Now these theories state that an individual cannot be held responsible for factors he has no control over, including his caste or sex. Therefore, to ensure that every member of society has the same basic welfare opportunities, we would have to take the ‘backward class’ factor into account and end up providing reservations for them.

The equality of opportunity concept is slightly trickier. There are two main interpretations to this theory. The first is Rawls’ theory of egalitarian nature, which advocates the hidden veil principle. In simple words, we make decisions in an unbiased manner for the least privileged members of society first. By this logic, offering reservation would be a natural step in that direction. Dworkin’s theory of equality on the other hand, says that (and I apologize if the meaning of this one doesn’t come across easily) the government should offer the citizen a fixed amount of resources. These resources can be in any form, though the net amount can be the same, and the citizen has the liberty to pick and choose whichever privileges he desires. Something akin to giving you a lunch box and telling you to fill it up with whatever the hell you want. By this logic, reservation is completely unnecessary, since the individual has the right to make his own decisions. Sure, one would hope that he would make the smart move and opt for education, but pushing him in that direction would actually impinge on his freedom, with the government no longer remaining a democracy (god, I hate these loopholes!)
You know what, screw it. If there’s one theory I hope you remember, it’s the concept of equality based on responsibility and justice. Basically, it would be unjust of you to let another person suffer due to social stigma, and it would therefore be your responsibility to help him out, because we were not born to be brutes. We place so much importance to slogans like ‘Mera Bharat Mahaan’ but it’s not a claim that can be substantiated unless the most down-trodden member of society can say it. Only then can we say that we’ve been able to bring about a rational sense of equality.

And now I present to you, the loophole I shall take advantage of. (Said detractors from the beginning may now smile with satisfaction). Do I think reservation is needed and can benefit our society? Yes. Do I actually think it can be brought about successfully? Sadly, not for a while. Honestly, I don’t think the average Indian is ready to accept this yet. Now, I’m not going to preach about how the Indian male is too driven by his hormones to rationally make those decisions. Just open up Facebook in the aftermath of the Delhi rape case and you’ll get a earful.

I’m assuming that you’re an educated, urban youth, and therefore a minority. It’s about time we started looking at issues from the point of view of the government as well, before reaching conclusions about them. I’m honestly racking my brains to come up with a line about us being the youth of the nation and how the masses will look to us for help etc etc. I don’t think I need to though. You already know what’s at stake.

You Ought To Know


This post took shape in my head around the time when Anna was the latest craze. On a totally different note, what happened to him? Or the Lok Pal bill? Don’t you just love how Indians seem to forget events like that so fast? (Yeah, I’m part of them, move past that). But enough about the really serious, caring about the world crap. Time to get back to the hate rant.
It became popular thanks to men like Mandela, Gandhi and thousands of others. It’s probably why we’re free as well. Yes, I’m talking about freedom of expression. And on some primal level, I respect that. The problem with the right to free speech is the part where people forget their boundaries. And I don’t just mean you and me. I’m talking about famous people, of whom others just can’t get enough. Well, thanks to that lovely right to expression, I’ve taken it upon myself to point out just a few of them, and what I’d love to say to said person assuming if we were to ever meet. Unloading a clip of bullets into them would prove my point much better, but I’m trying to be civil, despite all my cave-man inclinations, and use words instead.
Ekta Kapoor - One saas-bahu serial was fine, two on the air was tolerable, three was like having nails driven through you. Considering the number of TV serials she’s made and the number of years they’ve lasted, I’m surprised members of some desi TV loving spinoff of the Al-Qaida hasn’t tried to assassinate her yet.
Justin Bieber - words cannot express the pain and disgust you have made me feel over the years. And the odd part is, I’ve never heard of parents complaining about you either. Aren’t parents always supposed to complain about the crap their kids listen to? (My best guess is that they figured a 16 year old girl can’t do much damage). Hendrix, Cobain and others would spew insults at you, but they’re a little busy rolling over and subsequently throwing up in their graves.




REBECCA BLACK- Pretty much everything I just said about Bieber, but I guess that just isn’t insulting enough. For the lyrics that you wrote, I’m surprised that you had to wait till you were 13 to sing ‘Friday”. Most kids know the days of the week by the time they’re six. I’m just hoping the next time you sit on the rim of the back seat of a car, you decide to drive through a low tunnel. Just saying. Also, How’d you feel when even Bieber said he didn’t want to sing with you?

CHETAN BHAGAT- Obviously, being an actual engineering student, I can’t stand you. FYI: Not everyone who has pegs of neat vodka before exams screw them up. Sometimes those papers just turn out to be awesome. (I’ve a friend who says so) Your latest book is on sale for 20 bucks a copy (or so I’ve been told. It’s against whatever few morals I have left to go and actually find out for myself) Toilet paper is now more expensive. Take a hint and stop writing. (pretty please with a cherry on top?)
Kim Karda (something that I just can’t spell) – ok, it seems I’ve made a mistake by including her here. She’s part of my “Celebrities I adore and wish to meet and and do nasty things to” list. She’s just freaking awesome.

Stephanie Meyer - the thing about miracles is that they don’t come by in quick succession. You should’ve waited a few more decades until Harry Potter ended before printing that Twilight crap. Sparkly vampires? Seriously? Go watch Dracula or Blade for acceptable descriptions.
ARINDHAM CHOUDHARI- I’m not sure if I spelt the surname correctly, but who gives a f***? It’s not like he’s Kim what’s-her-name. First off, go for a haircut. Second, why in god’s name aren’t you advertising for a toothpaste commercial? Your teeth are so sparkly! If you do decide to keep the hair and throw in a few fangs, you could actually audition for the next Twilight movie (I’m hoping they never make it, but who listens to me anyway?) I haven’t written so much about the others yet, and I STILL haven’t started talking about IIPM , or as the casual reader might know it, the college that’s #1 in Global Exposure( WTF? Sasha Gray. Jenna Jameson. These are the names that spring to mind when one talks about global exposure. Not IIPM!!) . And how can I forget that you advise students to dream beyond the IIT’s and the IIM’s. I’m guessing you failed to get into either of them then? And, might I remind you, they’re still pretty much the best we’ve got.

Rakhi Sawant- Here’s what people normally need, to succeed. Dedication. Brains. Hard work. Good Looks (not essential, but apparently helps. Again, what would I know, I’m a wannabe engineer FFS, not a model! *insert appropriate smiley here*). It doesn’t hurt to know English either. Now let’s run through the list. It’s obvious the last one doesn’t apply to you. This makes your paragraph a little disappointing since you probably can’t even read this. I’m not too sure about your Hindi either. As for hard work and brains. You do find Baba Ramdev hot. The only thing you seem dedicated towards is trying to make the average sex hungry Indian (most people in my college) notice that you exist. Well, I guess you got that much at least. How’s that working out for you? I’m trying desperately to come up with a joke trashing Rakhi Ki Swayamvar , though I’m not able to put my finger on it. Advice anybody? How about Rakhi ka Insaf? I’m thinking something along the lines of, “how can SHE give advice to married couples?” though it just doesn’t show how much I can’t stand her.
And now we’re back to that awkward part where I have no idea what else to say. Seeing as I’m done insulting most of the people I want to, I guess it’s time to end it with some well meaning, clichéd bullshit.
*insert well meaning, clichéd bullshit here*
Disclaimer - The above article does not reflect the views of the author. He was forced to write it at gun-point, by people who shall not be named. He would probably say pretty similar stuff though. After all, he really is a wannabe engineer. But feel free to share the post. The author is sure that the one who shall not be named would love it if others read this.

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Vijay Narayan


Inject The Venom

Doping in sports
Ivan Drago. A fictional character from the Rocky world though he may have been, was still a mountain of a man. A man who is remembered for two things. 1- he had his arse handed to him on a platter by an old, washed out leftie named Rocky balboa. 2- He took copious amounts of nutritional supplements.
 
Nobody normally remembers the guy who finishes 2nd. Sports, as such, is driven by records. It’s a race, a struggle, even a battle at times, to be the best of the best. Sadly, when grit and determination just isn’t enough, athletes turn to performance enhancing drugs.
 
Cheating, you say? Perhaps not. Unethical? For sure. Sports is a dirty arena. Everybody knows that. It’s been like that since the Olympics( the old ones) . Competitors would try to get their rival teams intoxicated, just so that they would not be in any position to compete during the actual event. In more recent times, broken glass would be scattered on the road used by long distance runners or cyclists, just to slow them down.
 
But that’s all passé. Welcome to the 21st century. In sports, anything goes.

One can’t blame the athletes entirely though. Yes, we’ve already established that he wants to win for the glory and the fame. But you must also consider the outside pressure. Spectators want a good show. They want something unbelievable. Something that cannot be replicated at home. One would expect things would have changed since the era of gladiators. But the sad truth is, that nothing has. People want to be entertained. They want their money’s worth. And it’s up to the athletes to deliver. Add sponsors and promoters to the mix and you’ve got a heady cocktail. It’s all about business for them. And as long as it goes unnoticed, anything goes in the corporate world. Everything including, but not limited to, sexual harassment! They expect the same from the athletes they sponsor. Anything goes, just give us good numbers. Give us something that will make us heroes in the eye of the shareholder. All this and yet the blame, more often than not falls squarely on the shoulders of the athletes.

Then again, it’s not always the athletes who are to be blamed. In the most recent doping scandal in India, some of the athletes claim that while they had been given unnamed supplements, they had no idea that they were illegal. In these cases, it’s the sporting authorities who are to answer. It’s not unheard of though. In countries like Russia, athletes are used as scapegoats. When the country itself is forcing their athletes to cross that slender line of morality, it’s rather hypocritical of the government to disgrace the athletes as well when the shit hits the fan (proverbially). It now becomes a contest of pride. Peaceful combat between countries if you will.

And don’t for a second believe that these athletes lives will remain the same. Not from the public abuse. Not from the shame. But from the drugs themselves, which ravage their bodies to a point that eventually, all they can do is pray for death to come swiftly. Let me elaborate by cashing in on the Harry Potter frenzy that seems to have swept the world. In the long run, drugs impact athletes and their bodies the same way horcruxes impacted Lord Voldemort’s facial features. I know Karnam Malleswari isn’t much of a looker but compared to Voldemort well....

There are innumerable facts to back up claims that these drugs can, in the long run, kill the users. But let’s leave facts aside. Perhaps look at it from a moral point of view.
 
Should taking supplements be illegal? That depends, of course, on whether you want a good show. If you don’t , go ahead. Ban the stuff. It’s not going to stop countries from wanting the gold. It hasn’t really stopped countries like China in the past either. Or you could blur the lines a bit, turn a blind eye to what’s going on, and get entertained when the team you root for wins. You think watching Chess is a snore? Wait till they have players on LSD. The chessboard is suddenly a death-maze and the pawns are in fact demons from the movie “Constantine”!
 
It all boils down to one simple question in the end-
“How badly do you want to win?”

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Vijay Narayan


Forever And For Always




Forever 27 Club
 It is one of the most elite clubs in the world. In all of history, no more than 47 members have had the privilege, the woe, and the angst to be a part of it. The requirements are stringent, the rewards include being remembered forever as a person who could not fight his or her demons. To be a part of this club, you need to be all of the following- a talented, famous musician, regarded by most as genius You also have to suffer from an addiction, and be 27 years of age. And you have to die.

Simply put, this is the Forever 27 club. It’s members include legends like Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, Jim Morrison, Amy Winehouse and Janis Joplin. Factually, there is little I can tell you about their lives that a simple Wikipedia search cannot. This article isn’t about their fame, their notoriety or their mark in the field of music. From what I have gleaned from their music, I’ll strive to tell you who they were.

One fact is true of all these people. They were geniuses. Each one of them had a vision, an idea to change the music industry. More often than not, they managed it. And in the end, that was their curse. They were different. It’s odd that the very people who are elevated to the top of society, are never truly understood by the rest of them. These people yearned acceptance. Not in the social sense of the word. There was no event or party where they would not be recognized or even hero worshiped. They wanted true acceptance, understanding if you will, by the people who surrounded them. Their pain is all too visible. Just listen to their songs,focus on the lyrics, and you will see it as well.

Most of them came from humble beginnings, with an aim to change the world in a little way. I believe that they would have been perfectly happy without being touted as the leaders of the ‘new revolutions’ in music. They lived for their music, because it was all that made real sense to them. The only avenue where they could express all that worried them.

All that they were looking for was solace. As a society, we failed to give them that. So they turned to a less satisfactory substitute. One that could be found at the bottom of the whiskey bottle or the heart of the pills that they swallowed.

Kurt Cobain once said”I’m not afraid of dying. Total peace after death, becoming someone else is the best hope I’ve got.” This is essentially true of all the members of the Forever 27. To them, their own lives were so difficult to understand, that they yearned for one that was entirely different.
Amy Winehouse
Needless to say, they did die. As odd as it may seem to rephrase a movie line- for them, peace was never an option. Even after death they are remembered . Sadly, they aren’t remembered as people who strove to be normal. They are remembered as addicts who could not resist temptation in the end, and finally succumbed.

They will go down in the annals of music as people who revolutionized the world. Would it be too hard for us to remember them as people who just wanted to get along?

Love them if you want. Hate them if you wish. Ignore them if you must. But never forget them. Not the people they wished to be remembered as.

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Vijay Narayan


That 70s Show Review



By Vijay Narayan



The moment that we( team LTGTR) decided we were going to do a retro issue, I knew I simply HAD to write a review on That 70's Show. Call it absolute boredom , or the fact that the actors are so freaking brilliant ( Mila Kunis .... *sighs*) or perhaps the fact that for the past week, I'd done nothing except watch episodes of this very sitcom, but I doubt the reasons for writing it are as important as the review itself, so here goes nothing. 
Created by ...... All right, I'll admit. I've no clue who really created it. Once again, it hardly matters! On the surface, That '70s Show appears to be a straightforward sitcom with a penchant for the occasional dream sequence or other bits of high concept fluff. But if you truly pay attention, you'll find a rather established cultural outlook to it. The show essentially parodies the 1970's, probably one of the most controversial times in the United States-- energy crises, the resignation of Nixon, the end of the Vietnam war, Star wars and of course, the disastrous perms, bell bottomed jeans and disco balls ( which are actually kind of cool, I’ll admit).
However, what truly brought the show alive was the brilliant acting by the main cast members . The show is set in the fictional Point Place, located in the state of Wisconsin. It revolves around Eric Foreman (Topher Grace-the guy who played Venom in Spiderman 3!), who is 17 and obsessing about the same things that all boys that age think about: beer, cars, and girls(not necessarily in that order), and who better to dampen his mood than a Communist-hating Vietnam veteran for a father, and a well-meaning alcoholic nurse for a mother! Throw in his promiscuous sister( who 'got around' with pretty much every guy in town) and you have a perfectly dysfunctional family.


Of course..ONE crazy family just isn't enough. Enter Eric's next door neighbor/ best friend/ girlfriend Donna , a feisty redhead feminist, who ,by all indications, can kick pretty much anyone's ass. Oddly enough, she's saddled with a couple of parents who are trying WAY too hard to be ‘hip’. Bob and Midge are the butt of most jokes, including a running gag about Bob's afro, which destroys the credibly of the very look that Hendrix popularized( a fact made clear to Bob repeatedly!)
Also included in the show are the characters of Hyde, Michael Kelso, Jackie and Fez. Hyde is a smart-alecky, Led- Zeppelin loving, wannabe hippie who sees government conspiracies in everything. This is probably due to the fact that he supplies most of the weed to the group and is almost permanently high. Michael Kelso ( played by Ashton Kutcher) is a rather dim, though well meaning playboy who eventually becomes a cop( and gets thrown into jail himself half the time). Jackie( yes, finally, Mila Kunis!), is a spoiled and snobby little rich kid who believes the world revolves around her. Where would any show be without the stereotyped foreigner! Fez fill this spot on the show; he’s a foreign exchange student with a strong Hispanic accent, a hair fetish, and a rather voyeuristic nature.
The plot itself is fairly lightweight, but certainly gets the job done. The show describes the daily lives of these kids- hanging out in a basement, smoking up every chance they get, stealing beers, and, if time ever permits, attending school. I could go on praising this show forever, but some things are better left unsaid, so I will end it on this note
What makes this show really appealing? Strip the show of its crazy jokes, the marijuana sessions, it’s rather caustic view of the government, and you're left with a show about teens trying to find some meaning in their lives-a sentiment shared by almost everybody our age. Definitely a must watch for... well, everybody.

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Vijay Narayan


No Easy Way Out!



It hurt. A lot. To put it any other way would be a barefaced lie. 

Where was I? Oh, I was living any boxer’s dream. A shot at the world title. At the world’s largest casino at that. I was sitting in my corner, surrounded by my posse, waiting today to throw myself at my opponent yet again. My coach stood above me, wearing his trademark green and yellow sweatshirt, shouting advice into my ear. Something about attacking his body, not his head. Honestly. At this point of time, I couldn’t care less. I had reached the grandest stage in boxing terms. I look at my coach once again. For a chain smoker turning 60, the guy’s got a remarkable set of lungs. I watch as his mouth forms words that are ultimately spewed in my direction.. Oh well, that hasn’t changed in the last 10 years. The man has taken great pride in criticizing everything I do. Every jab, every hook, every feint is critically analyzed and then regarded as pathetic. Well, there’s no pleasing some people. To be fair to him though, he has stuck around. And we’ve finally made it. At 38, I’m pretty much a dinosaur in the boxing circles. And with a win/loss record of 21-40, I’m pretty much regarded as a joke as well. And courtesy of the lovely managers of the casino I’m boxing at; my stats are being displayed to the public on large screens that hang 15 feet above the rink. 

I look around, stare at the crowd. I see their faces. They’d come there to see a slaughter, To watch the reigning world champion almost destroy the aging veteran who had dared take a shot at the coveted title that he so cherished. And instead, what they had witnessed seemed to have stunned them into silence. The ageing veteran had actually lasted 9 whole rounds. (9 whole rounds!) When they were placing bets that I would be knocked out in 4. That look in their eyes- a mixture of grudging respect, hatred, and most of all, sympathy. 9 rounds I had lasted, but a tenth seemed unlikely. Later on, they’ll probably ask me how I ever managed it. Sure, my PR team (read - my coach) will come up with a long heart rending story of how I had been practicing hours and hours on end, honing my skills, waiting to pounce on my opponent like a hungry wolf pounces on a gazelle. Not a bad story, eh? But frankly, the only reason I’ve survived till now is pure, dumb, stupid luck. And for that I shall hate my opponent forever. 

To be honest, I’d never expected to even be given the chance to fight this guy. My coach, the old warhorse that he is, however, decided that I couldn’t retire without having sought a title. And surprisingly, the Boxing association apparently felt the same way. Either that or they just wanted to see me getting mauled. Probably the latter. 





So, to cut a long story short, here I am. And for 36 long minutes in the ring interspersed by 9 in my corner, I had gone through hell. No, not the kind of pain that acts as the fire that can cleanse you (they did mention that in Rocky Balboa, just saying). No, this is the sort of pain that makes you want to kill yourself so that you don’t have to suffer for one more moment. The sort of pain that makes you wonder whether that damn title is even worth it. 


I look straight ahead. 15 feet away from me, sits my opponent. Sadly, the guy doesn’t look tired. He looks angry. Understandable for a 26 year old world champion who weights over 200 pounds and has a win loss record of 54-9. This guy hates losing. His last loss was apparently 20 matches ago. A 20 match winning streak. That meant twenty opponents who had been younger, faster, and probably stronger than me had been taken apart by him. And I stand in his way of the 21st win. Maybe the guy likes blackjack, just a thought. But card games aside, this guy was mad. And who could blame him. Twenty of the best boxers in the world couldn’t beat him, and some ancient relic had taken him to a tenth and final round. For that, he will hate me. And for putting me through such torture, I hate him just as much.
The saddest part was that even after 9 rounds, he looks as fit as a fiddle. There’s barely any blood on him. Sure, there’s a bloody gash where his lips are supposed to be, but apart from that, he barely even looks bruised. Apart from the gash and a thin lining of sweat on his muscular frame, one would think the guy was just getting into the gym for some practice.
I, on the other hand, looked like I had been through the mill. A gash on my forehead, a broken rib, and bruising on every part of the upper body. I looked and felt like a dead man walking. Not a very comforting thought. 


I was brought out of my reverie by a tap on the shoulder. The coach, yet again. It was time to get up for the tenth round. Three more minutes of pain. As I wearily lift my battered frame off the chair, all the lights immediately switch back to the ring. I could hear the commentators shouting into their mikes. Something about this being the last shot I had to take down the monster in front of me. I could hear them questioning my capacity to bear pain. Would I last this one round? Or will the world champion successfully defend his title. My bet was on the latter. 


The referee comes over to me, and shouts in my ear. Apparently this is my last chance to back down before the fight starts. I could quit now, or walk into the  labyrinth of pain. I’ll admit, he didn’t put it that way, but considering the state I was in, it was all the same thing. The mouthpiece in place, there was no way I could answer verbally. An attempt to shake my head was satisfying enough an answer for him though. 


And as the bell tolled, I looked one last time into the crowd, as I had done countless times before. It was sort of a ritual that I followed. To look at the first row of spectators. To look into the eyes of my wife . She sat there, in a dark business dress and as she had done countless times before, she looked back into mine. For 15 years, this woman had stood by me in my worst times. And for 15 years, had loved me, and taken care of me. A woman who, despite a successful career, was always there supporting me in mine. And like she had done before, she looked at me with those light brown eyes, those beautiful eyes that sparkled so brightly in the present atmosphere, and I knew that win or lose - everything would be okay. 

Beside the lovely woman who I was proud to call mine, sat my six year old son in a white T-shirt over denim jeans, with a cap covering his curly hair, Normally, I’d have ordered him to stay at home, where he didn’t have to see his father being manhandled in front of thousands of others in the same arena. But this time was different. This was my first, and probably last, shot at the title. And I wanted him to be there when I took that shot. I wanted him to watch proudly as his father stepped up to the occasion and looked like a god. And in that one moment, in one fell swoop, I realized what I was looking at in his eyes... it wasn’t pride, it was fear. 

That one look almost made me stop in my tracks. I could see my opponent slowly advancing towards me, coming in for the kill. And yet, my mind was elsewhere. Memories flashed past my eyes - that fateful day in the delivery room when my son entered the world; the day we first played in the park, the day he took his first step, the day we celebrated his first birthday. His first day of school. Great, amazing time to get emotional, I chided myself, and yet, for some inexplicable reason, I couldn’t stop. 

And then, in one fell swoop, I realize that I don’t want to be here. All I want to do is get out of this place, and walk away. Go away with my family far, far away from all of this. I’ve been a quitter for almost 2 decades, why should anything change now? Won’t it be fitting if I quit right now? I can see the critics destroying me already - the guy who finally went so far, right to the end….only to quit. Oh….it’s going to be priceless…. 

I’m ready to raise my hand, to signal the referee... Oh, my opponent is not going to like this. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of knocking ME out. 21 wins or not… he will hate me for walking away. Somehow I think that will help me. I’ve been thrown around a rink for more than half an hour now. I deserve some fun, don’t I? And just as I turn in his direction to give him one last vindictive smile, I realize that he’s no longer advancing towards me.
In fact, he’s less than 2 feet away from me… and his fist is coming straight towards my face.

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Vijay Narayan


No More Mister Nice Guy

 By Vijay Narayan

They screwed me. That, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the long and short of it. To try and obscure the truth in a rather verbose, inscrutable manner would be an insult to your intellect. And frankly, a waste of my time. Who screwed me? To that, I really don’t have a definite answer. ‘They’ is not just a group of individuals. It happens to be a whole organization (which, by any definition, happens to be a group of people, and yet at
the same time, far from it)

When and how did they screw with me? Again, not a definite answer . In the light of certain recent events that I shall not bore you with, I’ve come to realize that ‘they’, might just be the world in general. For the purpose of sounding cynical and rebellious, I shall just call it the system. So what is the problem with the system?

I’m sure that at some point or the other in your life, you must have wondered what’s wrong with the organization, be it a college administration, a court, a political party, or the whole government itself. And the only answer I can come up with is protocol. Protocol is the term that any person who is truly afraid of change hides behind. Seriously, you want to hide behind a bunch of rules crafted decades, perhaps even centuries ago? 

Rules which (perhaps i’m exaggerating a little bit ) are designed to leave everybody unhappy. Rules which, if I may say so frankly, are a tad outdated. Look around you. In this present day and age, who IS happy with the way things are run in ANY country? Ironic ,isn’t it, since logically everything IS run by people themselves.
The problem lies in the rules. Guidelines, constitutions, academic rulebooks - call them what you want. In most cases, the rules were set probably decades ago. And people are just unwilling to change the rules, citing reasons like ‘it’s tradition’ or ‘that’s how we’ve always done it’ . Get over yourself and your precious traditions. While they may give you a sense of culture, they actually hinder your progress. The world has changed so much in the last 50 odd years. But you don’t need me to tell you that. Just ask your parents or grandparents. When the situation changes, so does the solution to it. It’s like trying to drive a car with wheels that were designed for chariots centuries ago. It just doesn’t work out. 

Everybody is quick to accept the fact that change is the natural order of things. That change is evolution in its most unadulterated form. And yet, hypocrites that we are, most of us are unwilling to accept change itself. Any attempt to bring about change in the present order of things is contested strongly by many. Pray, tell me, why is that? Are we, humans, inherently flawed? We take control of a whole planet, and yet, there is something wrong. You might like to say that people just cannot change themselves, but therein lies the problem. We’re unwilling to change ourselves to accept that accepting change is the only solution to all our problems.


So what do we do? Certainly, sitting on our asses doing nothing isn’t really an option.( well ok,…it is…but it’s really no fun ). I for one, shall be both bitter and cynical and shall bitch about the system, hoping that you’re reading this and actually considering making changes.
What about you?

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Vijay Narayan


Dude...Seriously?

So there I was, sitting at the dining table on a Sunday morning reading the jokes in the paper (say what you will… fat, lazy, orange cats are always hilarious) when I noticed the supplement. You know, the nonsense that gets printed on flashy paper with pictures of supposedly seductive looking B-grade actresses.
On said flashy paper, was a rather delightful (for lack of a better word) article named – ‘3 Mistakes of the Decade’ (Apparently a play on the name of some cheap, random book). The author’s name escapes me (predictably, a very forgettable one). I do remember reading about him in the past though. You know, the leader of the NEW breed of Indian authors. One of those IIT and IIM graduates who decided that being investment bankers just wasn’t good enough for them.
But I digress. The writer decided that at the end of the decade, it was time (and apparently loads of fun, because the article had a picture of him on the side smiling like a 1000 watt advertisement sign) to remind the country of its worst mistakes this decade. And the winners are - (If you like, you can picture Scarlett Johannson or some other blonde bombshell saying this… whatever gets you going)

1 - The Agra Summit (July 2001)
2 - The Godhra Riots (Feb 2002)
3 - The Commonwealth Games 2010  
For a variety of reasons, I’ve decided to comment mainly on the last one.
Take your pick from the list of reasons:
1- The first two occurred when I was too young to even know or care about what was happening to the country.
2- Generally when there are 3 mistakes/options...the author intends that the 3rd would be the biggest.
3- I’m lazy (read point 2).
The Commonwealth Games 2010  
A disaster all the way (Yeah... tell that to the 101 medals that we won, and all the new talent that sprang up) and enough has been said on why it is so (and yet you still keep writing about it). The games cost too much (Printing stuff like that previous line also costs quite a bit, did you know?), most of the world doesn’t even care about them… sure, the US, China, Japan and most of Europe is not part of the Commonwealth. (For someone who keeps writing about how we shouldn’t follow the western countries et al., you seem to really want to do stuff that grabs their attention).
There was rampant corruption, it didn’t change the sporting culture in the country (Again...101 medals, ring any bells?), there were quality and hygiene issues (As you have pointed out in all your books, this is India...what have you come to expect? FYI, Secunderabad railway station is supposed to be the cleanest railway station in India… ever been there?), India got its worst PR in decades internationally (No, the worst PR was when an IIT/IIM graduate decided that he could write well and should therefore... become an author. He actually managed to write 3 or 4 of them!), the government has still not punished the culprits and, frankly, the athletes would have won their medals abroad even if we didn’t host them (we won 101 medals in 2010, 50 in 2006....and since you’ve also mentioned that there has been no change in the sporting culture... I wonder how we managed it…?).
Under the garb of good intentions, one of the biggest scams in independent Indian history was executed (Try as I might, I can’t disagree. *sniff*). The only silver lining is that the scam was exposed and it somewhat changed the public’s passive attitude towards corruption. More scams have come out since, and people are following the story, waiting for the culprits to be punished this time. It is an expensive way to fix things, but may still be worth it. (I’m sorry...we’re making headway when it comes to curbing corruption... and it’s still a mistake? I’m sorry, I’ve lost track of time... since when has corruption NOT been the biggest problem in this country?)
Seriously, how do you call peace talks and communal riots ‘mistakes of the decade’?  That’s as bad as saying that Justin Bieber is the ‘Artist of the Century’!! (Ok... I’ll admit... it’s not that bad… but still!). True... they weren’t exactly the happiest times for the country... but to call them mistakes?
You want mistakes? I’ll give you some examples.
Government not legalizing marijuana. Mistake
Letting Himesh Reshammiya act. Mistake
Letting Rakhi ka Swayamvar infect our televisions. Mistake
Letting the Twilight series release in India. *BIG* Mistake
My point being this... you want to be critical of our country, do it in your books. Don’t let it take up precious space in the paper. Just so you know, they could easily have fit pictures of 2 hot models in the space that your article took up. Perhaps even three if they were size zero... Think about that.
 NOTE TO AUTHOR
While the tone of the above article might make you think I don’t like you, I should let you know I’m a huge fan. I’ve got a ‘smashingly’ original idea for a novel that you can write. It’s about a young pale looking girl who gets into IIT. On her first day she falls in love with this hot 10 pointer nerd who turns out to be a vampire.... I’m telling you.... It’s going to be legen.....Keep waiting for it...!!

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Vijay Narayan


Losing My Senses


ENVY
Employee
8.45 pm ....hmm...15 minutes before the ‘big’ man left the office. Yes... I mean the President himself, the puppet master in this pathetic excuse of a workplace. Don’t get me wrong, being the Head of Marketing of a huge company does have its perks. But still...all I could dream of in my inebriated state was having his life! Now, the Boss was one man who definitely had it good. Look at him...He had everything!! Loads of money, good looks, that adds to the glam! His social groups included the rich and mighty. He partied with the new Governor, a personal friend of his. He had a beautiful beach house. He was married to one of the most beautiful women in the world. Rumors had it that he was even going at it with the wife one of the vice-presidents of the company( The wife of the head of Logistics, I hear)
And yet....it seemed unfair. Why was he the Boss and not me? I remember twenty years ago, we were good friends; teenagers with a big dream. A vision, that one day, we would make it big in the world. And by God, did we manage it! But here’s the problem. Everyone knows that I’ve always been the smarter one. Everyone, including him, knows that it was my brains that got the two of us to the top. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, he was the Boss, and not me. I, on the other hand, was made to watch as he soared in the financial circles. I was rich as well, no doubt about that, but just not as rich as him! While he was going around with a multitude of gorgeous women, I had to go home late every night to my pregnant wife ( who, for some reason, just didn’t seem to want me around any longer)
Why?
What had he done that I hadn’t??
And in one fell swoop, I made a decision. Enough was enough. For too long had I been the man in the background; and I was sick of it. Perhaps it was the whisky that was doing this to me. Yet somehow, in that haze of alcohol, things seemed crystal clear to me. It was time to take matters into my own hands. Everything that he had rightfully belonged to me. And now was my chance to take it back.
Except for the two of us, the office was deserted. I opened my drawer and took out my prized possession. Yes, there it was…a .45 Walther pistol. That really did bring back memories. It had originally been part of a set of two. And guess who had the other one? Yes, twenty years ago, when we were still the best of friends, the Boss and I had decided to pick up the set. As a token of our…well, brotherly love for each other. But why go there? All that was important to me at the time was the fact that it was loaded.
I slowly made my way to his office. Everything seemed to happen so slow, and yet inexplicably , everything was a blur. Everything else seemed pointless to me. All I knew was that I wanted blood. His blood.
I walked into his office. He was sitting right there at his desk, staring into space. I called out to him. He looked up, and in his eyes I saw something strange…resentment. Odd! But I had more important things to take care about. I raised the gun, and kept pulling the trigger.
By God, it was loud!! And surprisingly painful…I looked down, and watched the blood spurt out of my chest…. This was not going to be fun.
Boss
Why him? Of all the women in the world , why did it have to be the wife of the  man who brought me to the top? The man, who as a boy, and shared a dream with me. A dream to make it big.
Everything had been going fine till last year. True, I had been overworking him, but for a reason. Having mingled with all the right people, I knew some things that most others didn’t. The state needed a new Governor, and They had asked me for a suggestion. And I had given his name. Sadly, to make him seem like a viable candidate, he had to be tested. He had to prove that he could take the pressure. He couldn’t.
And then, as he turned to alcohol, I tried to help him. I went to his wife to see what we could do about him. Oh God!! Everything went so wrong then…I couldn’t control myself. She was a beautiful woman, in an unhappy marriage. They had been trying to have a child for a year, and it wasn’t going so well. She was vulnerable, and I …like a fool, unwittingly took advantage of that…
When she told me she was pregnant, everything became clear to me. I wanted the life he had. It didn’t seem fair. I was the richer one obviously, but it was his wife I fell in love with. I was so bloody jealous of him. He had everything he needed. And I wanted it. I wanted to be able to father that child that was growing inside of her. My child…
It seemed so unfair. I loved her, and he was the one who got to go home to her every night. He was the one who got to kiss her when he got home. Not me… And why?? God alone knew.
All I knew was that I wanted him out of the way. That child would be mine, not his.
I realized what I had to do…and it wasn’t going to be easy. He had, after all been like a brother to me in the past.
And then suddenly, he walked in. And I just lost it. I was mad at him, and I would make him pay. In a flash, I had the drawer opened and I had taken out the Walther. I was going to sever every bond we had. I pulled the trigger.
Funny…I never expected it to hurt so much. I watched as he fell slowly to the ground. And then, I noticed the gun in his hand. My vision started to blur. Everything was going cold.


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Vijay Narayan



 

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