History - Top Ten Places of Historical Interest (Part I)

I had mentioned in my last Blogmaster address that I would soon be posting a piece on this. However, as I have been writing it, I have realized that I have enough material for several blogs as far as places of historial interest are concerned. So this is Part I, where I cover the top three places of historical interest, which are Persepolis (Iran), the Parthenon (Greece) and Angkor Wat (Cambodia). There are many other places of historical interest I want to write about, and I will soon. They include Hagia Sophia (Istanbul, Turkey), Vijaynagar (Hampi, India), Carthage (Tunisia), Machu Picchu (Peru) and several others. Hope you like this one.

These are places that I have read a great deal about and would love to visit before I am summoned to that Great Gig In the Sky. So here goes:

• Persepolis (near Shiraz, Iran): Twenty-six hundred years after it was built at the foot of the Mount of Mercy in the Persian highlands and twenty-three hundred years after it was burned to the ground by the drunk Alexander the Macedonian, the mighty pillars of the Hall of a Hundred Columns still stand, bearing mute testimony to the greatest and richest empire the world has ever seen. The name still inspires awe among lovers of ancient history. Persepolis (Old Persian name ‘Takht-E-Jamshed” or “Throne of Jamshed”) was the center of the largest and powerful empire on earth – the Persian Achaemenid Empire (named after a mythical ancestor Hakamanush). It was the capital and nerve-center of an empire that stretched from the banks of the Indus River in modern-day Pakistan, to Thrace in modern-day Greece, from the Volga River in the Russian steppes to the Nile in Egypt. The King’s Royal Roads spread out from Persepolis to the far corners of the empire – to Taxila in India a thousand miles away in the East, and to Byzantium on the shores of the Mediterranean, a thousand miles to the West. The King’s Peace ensured that traders and travelers traveling across this vast empire were unmolested by bandits and thieves.

The first World Empire was not Roman, contrary to what most people think. It was Persian, and Persepolis was its capital, located high in the Persian highlands of the Zagros Mountains, in the south-west corner of modern-day Iran. It was built by Darius the Great and his son Xerxes, successors to the founder of the empire, Cyrus the Great. The palace complex on the mountain was quite simply an architectural marvel – the most magnificent collection of buildings in the world in its time (and for a millennium after that). The showcase of the complex was the Apadana Palace with its’ Hall of a Hundred Columns – a breathtakingly impressive building. The Apadana had a grand hall in the shape of a square, each side sixty meters long with seventy-two columns, thirteen of which still stand on the enormous platform. It was the only building in the world to have a portico on all four of its massive sides. The Parthenon built by Athenian leader Pericles on the Acropolis in Athens is but a pale imitation of the Apadana Palace, which was just one of many splendid buildings at Persepolis. Some of the other great buildings on the platform were the palaces of Darius and Xerxes and the Tripylon or Debating Hall.

Each of the seventy two columns of the Apadana Palace was nineteen meters high with a square Taurus and plinth. The columns carried the weight of the vast and heavy ceiling. The tops of the columns were made from animal sculptures such as two headed bulls, lions and eagles. The interiors of the palace were decorated with glittering jewels, silk curtains and intricate wall hangings.

And in the center of the great Apadana Palace, in the Hall of the Mountain King, sat the Great King himself on the Lion Throne, facing the rising sun and guarded by the Ten Thousand Immortals, receiving ambassadors from Mesopotamia and Egypt, from Sparta and India and dispensing justice to the subjects of his far-flung empire.

Unfortunately, the successors of Cyrus, Darius and Xerxes were not great philosopher warrior kings like their ancestors. When Alexander fought the last Persian Great King Darius III at Gaugamela in 331 B.C, he won when he should have lost. Darius III panicked just when the tide of the battle was turning and the formidable Persian cavalry led by the elite Ten Thousand Immortals was besting the Macedonian Companion cavalry. Darius III fled, Alexander suddenly became heir to the largest and richest empire in the world and in a fit of drunken rage and egged on by his prostitute friend, Thais of Athens, burned Persepolis to the ground.

And so the greatest and most sophisticated city in the world was destroyed by a bunch of drunken Macedonian goat-herders. Alexander was a great military tactician, but a poor administrator. The empire he inherited disintegrated into chaos and confusion within just fourteen years of his conquest, until the second Persian Empire of the Parthians came along a century later.

The Achaemenid Persian Empire bequeathed the world many things, including great engineering works, art and sculpture, an administrative system that was copied by the Romans right down to the last detail, a system of governance that was based on religious tolerance, the first Charter of Human Rights, a sophisticated irrigation system that is still used today, and the first monotheistic religion in Zoroastrianism – a religion from which the Old Testament borrowed heavily. Zoroastrianism played a significant role in the evolution of Judaism, and later Christianity and Islam.

But the ruins of Persepolis including many of the towering columns of the Apadana Palace still stand, a reminder of empire and greatness. Someday, I would like to walk through the Persian highlands and upto the gates of Persepolis.

On a cool spring day in the highlands when the skies are blue and the wildflowers are in bloom, I would like to sit at the foot of the Mount of Mercy and try and imagine what it must have felt like to watch Darius the Great seated in the Great King’s Sun Chariot on the ceremonial New Year’s Day of the spring equinox (“Navjot”), passing under the monumental Gateway to All the Lands at the head of the Ten Thousand Immortals, their lances raised in salute, their armor glittering in the sun, the trumpeters heralding the approach of the Awesome Royal Glory, and the Palace Guards Commander Hydarnes announcing “All hail the Achaemenid, the King of Kings, Lord of All the Lands”, with the Golden Eagle Standard of the Empire catching the sun and fluttering in the spring breeze.

The Awesome Royal Glory (as the Achaemenid Persian line of Great Kings was known) is gone forever, but faint echoes of its majesty and grandeur can still be found in the ruins of Persepolis, that most magnificent of ancient cities.

• The Parthenon (Athens, Greece): It is not possible to talk about the Persians without mentioning their ancient rivals - the Greeks. Of course, the term “the Greeks” is something of a misnomer since there was no single Greek state at the time (circa 560 B.C to 330 B.C). There were several different Greek states such as Athens, Sparta, Thebes and Thrace who were usually at odds with each other, except when it came to battling the old enemy – the Persians. The Greek speaking population that lived in Europe were called “Dorian Greeks”. The part of the Greek speaking population that lived in what is now coastal Turkey (Asia Minor) were called “Milesian Greeks”. The Milesian Greeks were richer and more civilized than their Dorian counterparts. Also, they willingly became part of the ever-expanding Achaemenid Persian Empire because for them, it meant political stability, security and access to huge markets for their goods and services.

Eventually, this caused increasing tension between the Persian Empire and the European Greeks, who kept stirring up trouble across the Aegean Sea (that divides Europe and Asia). Finally, in 491 B.C, the Persian Great King Darius I (Darius the Great) had enough and ordered an invasion of Greece. The Persians crossed the Bosphorus at Byzantium and entered European Greece. The campaign went well at first as the Persians advanced step by step towards Athens, subduing the various Dorian Greek states in their way.

The Athenians and their allies were in a state of panic. The Spartans refused to come to their aid. The Greek oracles at Delphi and elsewhere predicted a complete Persian victory. The Athenians and their allies the Thebans made one last desperate stand at Marathon, 26 miles from Athens (now you know why the marathon race is so named). The Athenian forces had a natural advantage over the advancing Persians – they were camped up on a hillside and higher ground is always a critical advantage in any battle. Higher ground in this case also meant that the Greek hoplites (heavily armored infantry) could negate the Persian cavalry who were lower down on the slopes. The Persian cavalry was a formidable military force, but their infantry (kardachi) was lightly armored and equipped.

The Athenians charged and while the Persians broke through the Athenian center, they got caught on ground unfavorable for deploying their cavalry. The Athenians outflanked the Persians, circled back in a pincer move and caught them in the rear. The Athenians won, though not by the margin that so-called ancient Greek “historians” talk about. It was a hard-fought battle, not a rout. This battle also highlighted the contrasting fighting styles of the Greeks (and later the Romans) and the Persians. Whenever the ground conditions suited cavalry warfare, the Persians usually won. Whenever the conditions suited infantry warfare, the Greeks (and later the Romans) won. The Persians were superb horsemen, while the Greeks and Romans were excellent infantrymen (the heavily armored hoplites and later the Roman legions).

For the next two centuries, the Dorian Greek states and the Persians fought many famous battles with no clear victor. The Greeks staved off the Persians in Europe, and though the Persian Great King Xerxes sacked Athens twice during the second Persian campaign, he could not hold the Greek mainland for any length of time, as the Greeks repeatedly attacked his long supply lines leading back to Asia. The Greeks in turn were unable to break the Persian stranglehold on the Greek states in Asia Minor (Milesian Greece) and Egypt.

But what the Persians could not win through military conquest, they won through diplomacy. By the time the Peloponnesian War broke out in 430 B.C or so between Sparta and Athens, the Persians had become the chief power broker in the region, playing off one against the other and ensuring that Asia Minor remained a Persian province.

Now coming to the Parthenon (finally, you say). The Parthenon is a temple dedicated to the pre-eminent Greek goddess Athena – the mother goddess of the city of Athens. The temple was built after the Greco-Persian wars as a token of gratitude to the goddess for having saved the Athenians from Persian domination. The original Athena temple on the Acropolis (the hill on which the Parthenon stands) was burnt to the ground by Persian Great King Xerxes during the second Greco-Persian War in 479 B.C.

The new Parthenon was built in approximately 447 B.C. by the famous Athenian general Pericles. The Athenians signed a peace treaty with the Persians in 449 B.C. Having beating back the Persians over the last fifty years, the Athenians were confident and believed that they were the leaders of the European Greek states. The Parthenon represents the high point of Athenian and indeed ancient Greek civilization. The temple itself stands on the Acropolis, a hill from which the entire city of Athens is visible. Twenty-five hundred years after it was built, it still dominates the skyline of the city.

The sculptures and friezes inside the Parthenon signify the high point of Greek art. While the Persian art at Persepolis is very classical in nature, the Greek art on display at the Parthenon is very individualistic in nature, signifying the supposed triumph of individualism over monarchy. The relief sculptures on the sides of the temple illustrate various stories from ancient Greek history, myth and legend. The reliefs on the south illustrate the battle between the Greeks and the Trojans. Those at the west end depict the contest between Poseidon and Athena for the right to be the patron deity of Athens. The eastern friezes show the birth of Athena from Zeus' head. This structure suffered badly when the Parthenon was hit by a Venetian shell in 1687 and the powder magazine inside exploded.

Over the last two thousand years, the Parthenon has been witness to the rise and fall of empires and religions in Greece. In the 6th century AD it was converted into a temple. In 1456, Athens fell to the Ottoman Turks and was converted into a mosque. The Ottoman rulers were respectful of the monument’s history and heritage and left it untouched.

The Parthenon still stands, a testament to a time when Athens and Greece shaped Western thought, ideals and civilization.

• Angkor Wat (Cambodia): Even ardent lovers of history sometimes forget that South-east Asia has plenty to offer. Countries such as Thailand, Vietnam and Cambodia have their own ancient Buddhist and Hindu history, culture and architecture that is fascinating. Tucked away deep in the jungles of Cambodia lies one such treasure – Angkor Wat. The word means “City Temple” in old Cambodian, which is similar to Sanskrit.

Imagine yourself as a character in an Indiana Jones movie, walking through a dense, thick, humid tropical forest only to suddenly chance upon a near mythical city full of exquisite art, sculpture and buildings –a magical ghost city deep in a tropical forest with bright eyed monkeys in the trees and many-colored tropical birds flying overhead. That is Angkor Wat. Would be fun, wouldn’t it?

Angkor Wat was designed as a temple complex dedicated to the Hindu God Vishnu. The construction of the temple complex was started in the middle of the 12th century A.D by the great Cambodian king, Suryavarman II, a member of the Khmer Dynasty. Unfortunately, the word “Khmer” has acquired an evil reputation because of the Khmer Rouge, a violent ultra-left political group that ruled Cambodia in the 1970s. The Khmer Rouge was headed by the psychopath Pol Pot, who in a decade of misrule, tortured and killed a quarter of his country’s population.

But the Khmer Empire itself was enlightened, erudite and sophisticated. The Angkor Wat temple complex is a feat of very sophisticated engineering. Angkor Wat combines two basic plans of Khmer temple architecture: the temple mountain and the later galleried temples. It is designed to represent Mount Meru, home of the gods in Hindu mythology. Within a moat and an outer wall nearly four kilometers long are three rectangular galleries, each raised above the next. At the centre of the temple stands a phalanx of towers.

One of the first Western visitors to the temple was Antonio da Magdalena, a Portuguese monk who visited in 1586 and said that it "is of such extraordinary construction that it is not possible to describe it with a pen, particularly since it is like no other building in the world. It has towers and decoration and all the refinements which the human genius can conceive of". It is generally agreed that the architectural design of the temple complex at Angkor Wat is as good as or even better than the ancient temples at Athens or Rome or the Sistine Chapel.

Unfortunately, in the last two decades, many of the exquisite sculptures have been plundered and sold to rich art dealers in the U.S. and other countries. Angkor Wat is a now world heritage site and a reminder of a great civilization and culture. A walk through a jungle to suddenly discover a magical, near mythical city that could keep me entranced for days? Oh yes, I could definitely do that.

Music - Third Top Ten List

Welcome to my third Top Ten music list. The first two were such a hit that I was under tremendous pressure to come up with a third!! Of course I jest, but yes, a few people did like the first two and said so, so here is the third. And yes, there will be some love songs in this list as well (for people who think that I don’t like love songs) – unconventional love songs perhaps, but love songs nonetheless. Not weepy sentimental stuff, but songs that have real intelligence, power, emotion and meaning.

This list will have songs by some artists you have heard of – such as David Bowie with his “weary android” voice (my patent – this description of old David’s voice), the Beatles and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. You may not have heard of some of the other artists or songs. Some songs are just a year old, others are fifty years old. Let nobody say that my musical tastes are anything less than eclectic. I also have enough stuff for a fourth Top Ten list which will be released soon.

So where do I start? Ah, yes –the Clash.

Maestro, drum roll please:

• The Guns of Brixton – The Clash (1980): The Clash who formed in 1977, were the biggest punk rock band after the Sex Pistols and they lasted a lot longer. They were a product of their environment – the turbulent and depressed England of the mid to late 1970s. The late 1970s were a particularly bad time for the UK – high unemployment, an economy in shambles (the UK was labeled “the sick man of Europe”) and race riots on the streets between extreme right-wing white youth on one side and the West Indian and South Asian communities on the other. Disillusionment and anger reigned. Race riots in depressed areas such as Toxteth and Brixton were routine. The punks, led by the Sex Pistols reviled the music of older bands such as Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin, dismissing them as irrelevant, “corporatized money grabbers” and “boring old farts”.

The Clash were a little different. Their musical influences were some of the British bands of the previous generation (especially the Who) and reggae. By the 1970s, the West Indian community in the UK was making their musical and cultural influence felt far beyond the confines of their community.

The Clash wrote mostly political songs – they were left-leaning and supported the left-wing governments in the world at the time, including the Sandinista regime in Nicaragua. They also tried to build bridges across races and communities in the UK, and wrote about South American dictatorships and rebels in the hills. The Clash were the only punk band to make it really big in the United States – punk was largely a British phenomenon.

This particular song is about one of the more deadly race riots in Brixton. The song condemns the riots and has a hypnotic, snaky reggae backbeat. The lyrics are pretty chilling too.

“When they kick at your front door,
How you gonna come
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun,
When the law break in,
How you gonna go,
Shot down on the pavement,
Or waitin’ in Death Row”

• London Calling/Brand New Cadillac – The Clash (1980): Staying with the Clash for a moment, these two songs are also great. “London Calling” is a pounding rocker that paints a picture of an apocalyptic future, where the Third World War has broken out and a nuclear bomb has been dropped on London. “Brand New Cadillac” is an amalgam of American Tex-Mex, rockabilly and Jamaican reggae musical styles and is irresistibly foot-tapping, with a sudden explosive guitar solo right at the bridge of the song.

• Because the Night – Patti Smith – (1976): When punk crossed the Atlantic, it influenced singers like Patti Smith. Unlike other female rockers at the time, Patti was not seductive or pretty. She did not sing weepy love songs about sad romantic relationships. But she had a great bellow of a voice and was a great songwriter. She was one tough broad. This song was originally written by Bruce Springsteen but Patti made it her own. Her version is about a woman obsessed with a man – her obsession is complete and frightening. The song is a great rocker and enjoyable (though a little scary) to listen to. The woman in the song has got a real bad case of the hots for the guy she is singing about. You may heard the version by the 10,000 Maniacs a few years ago.

• Turn, Turn, Turn – The Byrds – (1966): This song was originally written by folk singer Pete Seeger in 1962. The version by the Byrds came out in 1966, and quickly became a huge hit and a cry for peace and reconciliation during the divisive Vietnam War. The Byrds were the first super-group in the 1960s. They sounded very different from everybody else, thanks to Roger McGuinn’s ringing rhythm guitar that sounded like chiming church-bells. Actually, their songs sounded like poems put to song, sung by choirboys. Like one reviewer said, the Byrds brought Ecclesiastes to the charts. They pretty much invented folk-rock along with Bob Dylan. The tunes and arrangements to their songs were gorgeous, lovely to listen to. The incarnations of the band kept changing. Many esteemed talents played in this band, right from Roger McGuinn to David Crosby to the late, great Gram Parsons. This is such a beautiful song.

• Love, Reign O’er Me – The Who – (1973): This song makes one want to believe in romantic love again. It is one of the few love songs by the Who. Part of the band’s 1973 magnum opus “Quadrophenia”, it is about a confused young man growing up in mid 1960s Britain. His name is Jimmy. By the end of the album, Jimmy does not know where life is taking him. He is depressed and at the crossroads. The song is a desperate cry for someone to love, someone to care. The album was made into a movie in 1979 starring Sting as Jimmy, and launched Sting’s acting career. The movie and the album were a huge British hit, since both chronicled growing up working class in mid 1960s Britain – a country and world poised on the brink of a social revolution.

Roger Daltrey’s impassioned vocals, combined with superb lyrics and unusually lush musical arrangements by Pete Townshend make this song a classic. The song was also covered by Pearl Jam this year and has featured as part of the soundtrack for several movies. Eddie Vedder of course is a huge Pete Townshend fan, like me. The song is delicate, thundering, emotional and ballsy – all at the same time. A very rare combination indeed.

“Only love can make it rain
The way the beach is kissed by the sea
Only love can make it rain
Like the sweat of lovers
Laying in the fields.

Love, Reign o'er me
Love, Reign o'er me, rain on me

Only love can bring the rain
That makes you yearn to the sky
Only love can bring the rain
That falls like tears from on high

Love Reign O'er me”

This song can still move me to tears so many years after I first heard it.

• Blackbird – The Beatles – (1968): Anybody who thinks that Paul McCartney did not write intelligent, meaningful songs should listen to this song as well the whole of Side B of the “Abbey Road” album. Paul always gets a bad rap as the one who sold out, while John gets the credit as someone who maintained his artistic integrity. Rubbish. Paul could write songs with beautiful lyrics and lovely tunes, as this song demonstrates. Actually, this whole album ("White Album") is great – a glimpse of the Beatles fragmenting – artistically. They are preparing for the solo careers. The estrangement between John and Paul is becoming increasingly evident. John’s songs sound completely different from Paul’s. By this point, they are no longer collaborating but writing separately. George is coming into his own as a songwriter and guitarist and developing his own identity. By 1968, the Beatles were well along the way to breaking up. This is more than a song – it is poetry set to music.

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night”

• Heroes – David Bowie – (1977): Tired of being labeled the father of “glam rock”, the relentless glare of celebrity, depressed and battling a crippling cocaine addiction, Bowie checked out of Southern California in 1975 and headed to Berlin, to get his mind, body and life back together. There he released three relatively low-profile albums which turned out to be the best in his career. The three were “Low”, “Heroes” and “Lodger”. These albums came to be known as his “Berlin trilogy”. The song “Heroes” (from the album of the same name) is about lovers separated by the Berlin Wall yearning to be together and willing to confront death to do so. The song also features Bowie’s trademark “weary android” voice and superb spacey, spidery synthesizer playing by the great Brian Eno.

“I can remember
Standing, by the wall
And the guns, shot above our heads
And we kissed, as though nothing could fall
And the shame, was on the other side
Oh we can beat them, for ever and ever
Then we could be Heroes, just for one day

Though nothing, will keep us together
We could steal time, just for one day
We can be Heroes, for ever and ever”

• Desecration Smile – Red Hot Chili Peppers – (2006): These guys have passed the longevity test. They have been around for twenty five years. Through singer Anthony Kiedis’s long, nearly fatal heroin addiction and guitarist John Frusciante’s mental breakdown and institutionalization, these guys have kept battling away. John Frusciante, in my opinion, is the finest guitarist of his generation. He has the “yaargh”, the creativity and imagination to come up with astonishing guitar riffs and licks. Check out the opening guitar riff to this song – delicate, haunting, simple and unforgettable. Kiedis has matured a great deal as a songwriter over the past decade. He is fit, happy and healthy and his voice sounds very good on the last few albums.

And what can I say about bass player Flea? He is one of my all-time heroes. He is just the best bass guitar player in the world apart from being a disarmingly honest, simple, unaffected human being who lives to make music. This man doesn’t do things in half-measure. He is the heart and soul of this band. Like Pete Townshend, he gives it everything when he plays – and nobody could ask for more than that. The 1990s were a bad time for this band. However, they look and sound like they are having fun again, which is very good news for the rest of us.

“Never in the wrong time or wrong place
Desecration is the smile on my face
The love I made is the shape of my space
My face my face”

• Under the Bridge - Red Hot Chili Peppers - (1991): I clearly remember when this song came out. I was living outside of Denver, Colorado. I guess that dates me. The Peppers were a fixture on American college campuses and a cult favorite before this song out. This song along with “Give It Away” which was also released in 1991, made them superstars. The song is about being alone, homeless and a heroin addict in Los Angeles. It is about feeling abandoned and completely bereft. It reflected Anthony Kiedis’s physical and mental state at the time. Pretty powerful stuff. Haven’t we all felt like this sometimes?

“Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner
Sometimes I feel like my only friend
Is the city I live in, The city of Angels
Lonely as I am, Together we cry”

• Running Scared – Roy Orbison – 1962: Here is a real old gem. What a voice Roy Orbison had!! That soaring falsetto could and still does shivers down my spine. A simple, plain-spoken man with a great gift for conveying emotion through that voice. This song is a classic – you must get hold of this song – beg, borrow or steal it. It is about a woman who is torn between two men. The protagonist is one of these two men and he is sure that she will leave him for the other. Listen as Orbison builds the tension in the song – you do not know what is going to happen. And as that falsetto soars through the roof at the end of the song:

“Just runnin' scared, feelin' low
Runnin' scared, you love him so
Just runnin' scared, afraid to lose
If he came back which one would you choose

Then all at once he was standing there
So sure of himself, his head in the air
My heart was breaking, which one would it be
You turned around and walked away with me”

Don’t you love happy endings? I do.

Humor - The Revenge of Pheluda

A few weeks ago, I had posted a blog called “May God Bless Pheluda” (for those who have not read it, please go to my blog-spot and check out “Humor – May God Bless Pheluda”). Pheluda of course, is the fictional name of the middle-aged Bengali gentleman from Kolkata I had bumped into during my last trekking trip to Uttaranchal.

The blog was meant to (gently) poke fun at middle-class Kolkata Bengalis who travel all over India on vacation during the Durga Puja break in October. Come Durga Puja time, and the shawls, mufflers, monkey caps/ski-masks and bedrolls suddenly make an appearance. Never mind that temperatures in most of India in October are still relatively balmy. Pheluda is prepared for the worst as far as the weather is concerned. He has read about global warming but is still not convinced that its adverse effects have reached the hills of Uttaranchal and Darjeeling.

I love Pheluda and his breed, I really do – as I mentioned in that blog. And I am part-Bengali myself, though I was born and brought up in Mumbai, that most cosmopolitan of all Indian cities. So in case anyone feels that I have slighted Pheluda in any way whatsoever, let me say that he is doing well, very well – thank you very much. And he does not care what people like you or me think.

As a dedicated Marxist-Leninist, his mind is at rest because he knows that he has backed the right political horse, so to speak. Though he was one of the many angry young leftist ideologues who stormed the barricades in the 1960s and early 1970s, he is disturbed by the violent Naxalite movements in large swathes of North and Eastern India. Why can’t those fellows follow enlightened Bengal, he asks, and just vote the people with the right political beliefs into power? Why the violence and the endless class struggle?

He strongly supports Buddhadeb Bhattarcharya, the current Chief Minister of communist led West Bengal. “Clean man”, he says to all who will listen. “Not a whiff of scandal or corruption has ever touched Budoda”. This is true. He knows that the future of Bengal is in capable hands, with Budoda in charge.

However, even a committed Marxist-Leninist like Pheluda has his doubts about the world and his place in it, just like the rest of us. He is not sure about Budoda’s new industrial policy for Bengal. After spending decades on agrarian land reform, is Budoda doing the right thing by inviting the hated class enemy – the petty bourgeoisie, Indian and western capitalists, to set up manufacturing units – in places like Nandigram? And what will happen to the landless laborers that supported the Communist Party in the first place? Whatever happened to the slogan “Death to the capitalists and all their running dogs?” Pheluda loved that slogan back in the 1960s.

Pheluda does not have the answers to these vexing questions. But he does know that something needs to be done. His brother now lives in the US, where he is a respected astrophysicist and academic at a very well reputed American university. He loves his brother dearly and paid for part of his education in the US. He is very happy for his brother though sadly, he feels that he has been seduced and corrupted by the capitalist way of life. His brother sends pictures of his large house with its two car garage in an affluent, leafy American suburb and also of vacations in Europe. On their bi-annual visits to India, his brother’s children speak in a strange accent and Pheluda cannot understand them when they speak to him in English – a language he knows well.

His sister’s sons have moved out of Kolkata and live and work in call centers and information technology parks in Mumbai and Bangalore. Pheluda knows that Bengal needs jobs and employment. He is just not sure that inviting capitalists is the best way to do that.

On the domestic front, there are difficult issues to deal with as well. His daughter who has recently graduated from college wears tight, revealing clothes and watches too much MTV. Pheluda also suspects her of having a tempestuous romantic relationship with that young Marwari fellow who lives across the road, the one whose father Pheluda suspects of hoarding “black” money. Of course, Pheluda has no proof of this, and has not brought it up with her. She never discusses her life with him and never listens to him. She is just like her mother. He hopes that he has given her a proper Bengali upbringing, but he still worries sometimes. I need to get her married soon, he reminds himself, to a nice Bengali boy.

His son has a pony-tail and spends his spare time listening to strange music – he calls it “rap” and “trance”. These words have different connotations for Pheluda. A “trance” was something one went into when one smoked too much of that hashish that his old dealer used to sell outside Howrah station. Of course, Pheluda has not told his family of his somewhat checkered youth. No need for them to know – though he has fond memories of that potent hashish. Besides, what does “trance” have to do with music?

When he asks his son about what he calls “gangsta rap”, the boy replies that this is the way that the oppressed boyz in the ‘hood choose to express themselves. What boys and what is ‘hood? And if these boys are indeed oppressed and poor, how come they are driving around in expensive Mercedes Benz cars in those MTV music videos, with attractive, scantily clad girls writhing in their laps? By the way, Pheluda is a fair-minded man and will be the first to admit that some of these women in the videos are indeed nice to look at. And what do the mean streets of East Los Angeles have to do with his nice, peaceful “paraa” in Kolkata? More questions that Pheluda does not have an answer to.

His children no longer get their clothes stitched from the friendly “paraa” tailor, an old man Pheluda has known since his own youth. Instead, they go to one of the opulent malls that have recently sprung up in Kolkata, and buy brands with strange (and sometimes obscene) names such as Mango and FCUK (Pheluda has banned the wearing of any clothes with the logo “FCUK” in his home). He is a fair-minded man, but one has to draw the line somewhere.

Yes indeed, the world is changing, but Pheluda is a philosophical man. He has done the best for his family for the thirty years that he has worked. He has saved enough for his son’s education and his daughter’s marriage. None of his family members share his belief in Communism as a force of salvation. This disappoints Pheluda, but in the end, he loves them and wants all of them to be happy – even if that means his daughter marrying that Marwari fellow who lives across the road.

Trekking - Chasing the Rainbow

There is a lot of beauty in this world. One has to look for the beauty, but it is definitely there. Living in crowded cities sometimes makes one forget this.

What makes you happy? Personally speaking, I am at my happiest walking among the clouds, high on a sun-drenched Himalayan mountainside. I usually go in the month of November – the best time of year for trekking. The days are perfect for walking (though the nights are cold), there is no pollution and as you get off the main motorable roads, you feel a century away from the modern world.

These are memories I cherish, because they sustain me through the less-than-happy times. I have lived in the American Rockies - very nice mountains. I imagine the Alps are similar. They are beautiful, but the Himalayas are a different experience altogether. They inspire not just respect, but reverence. This feeling of reverence is easy to experience, but difficult to explain or convey. However, I will try.

Why is it such a joyous, life-affirming experience? Because when I am in the middle of a forest in the Himalayas on a clear day, miles from a main road and surrounded by everything nature has to offer, I am in my element. All my insecurities, jealousies and pettiness cease to exist. I am strong but compassionate, calm yet curious, fearless yet prudent, grave yet with my sense of humor intact, detached yet connected to everything around me in a way that I cannot describe.

At times, I enter the "Zone" - where for a moment, I become one with the earth below my feet, the sky above me, the trees around me and the mountains that dominate the horizon. I feel connected to everything that there is, everything that ever was, and everything that ever will be. It is a feeling better than money, sex or anything else this world has to offer. And I am not a New Age philosopher by any stretch of imagination.

These are the moments of epiphany, of enlightenment. In moments such as these, I become the man I have always wanted to be. I regain my faith in humanity and again believe that it is possible for me to leave this world a better place than when I found it.

I remember the lyrics to an old Bob Dylan song (correctly, I hope):

"Saw a shooting star last night,
And I thought of me,
Whether I ever became
The man I wanted me to be”

To get the opportunity (however brief) to glimpse one’s own full potential, to know what one is capable of, is in itself reason enough to undergo hours and sometimes days of rigorous, exhausting physical activity. It is chasing a state of perfection -I will never get there.

"I'd gladly lose me to find you,
Gladly give up all I got,
To win you,
I am going to run and never stop".

Far away, the dark clouds have dispersed and the rain has cleared on the high mountain ridges, and there is a rainbow. That is my next destination. I will chase that rainbow, though there is no pot of gold at the end of it. But the joy comes in the pursuit of the rainbow, not reaching it. And in the end, it is the journey and what one does along the way that matters and not the destination – in trekking as well as in life.

So, I am looking forward to blue skies, friendly apple-cheeked villagers, dark evergreen forests interspersed with beautiful flowers of a hundred hues, slivers of bright, clear sunshine, glistening ribbon-like rivers, purple valleys and above all, the mighty, high, silver Himalayas.

I am looking forward to the simple camaraderie of a trek with a friend, the tiny tea-shops along the way, the little wisps of cloud in an azure sky, the giant Himalayan eagles circling for prey in the valley far below, the feeling of being part of Mother Nature's universal and unique heartbeat and of being connected to something that has been there forever – nothing in the world compares with it.

I remember the lyrics to an old song by a long-defunct band called Canned Heat:

"I'm goin' where the water tastes like wine,
Gonna jump in the water,
Stay drunk all the time"

Who knows? Maybe someday I will become what the Tibetans call a sennin - a crazy old man of the mountains - half mystic, half madman. I doubt that, though some of you may say that I am already well along the way!!

People - The Meaning of Greatness

How does one define a great human being? He or she is reasonably intelligent, caring, compassionate, ethical, humorous, well-read and passionate about what they do with their lives. All of them touch and positively affect other people around them.

This is a short definition, and going by it, there probably are millions of people around the world who would qualify. However, you will agree that very few of us personally know many great human beings. There must be some intangible quality then that must be present in a great person that distinguishes them from the multitudes. These intangible qualities vary.

For example, the great Carthaginian general Hannibal was an exceptional military leader and motivator of men. Two hundred years before the birth of Christ, he led a multi-cultural mercenary army on a spectacular march across the Alps in Italy to defeat the much larger Roman armies in battle. This army was not composed of troops from his home country – Carthage (modern-day Tunisia). They were from all over Africa and what is modern-day Spain. So patriotism was not an influencing factor in their love for Hannibal.

Yet he managed to command their loyalty and devotion for sixteen long years, even towards the end, when he was finally overwhelmed by the numerically superior Romans and his army was struck down by disease and attrition. Contrary to much history written at the time, Hannibal was no barbarian. In many cases, recorded history has no relation to the actual events that may have taken place, since it is written by the winners. But that is the story of another blog. Hannibal was an extremely cultured, well-read man and probably the single greatest military genius of all time (apologies to Cyrus the Persian, Alexander the Macedonian and Julius Caesar the Roman).

Mahatma Gandhi was a great man who preached peace instead of war. Albert Einstein was a great man because of his path-breaking discoveries in the field of physics and because of his humility. Nelson Mandela is a great man because he preached reconciliation between the races in South Africa – a very difficult thing because of the history of hatred between blacks and whites in that nation. He forgave those who hated him and wanted him dead. He single-handedly prevented civil war in South Africa in the early 1990s.

One trait that distinguishes the great from the good is that great people keep doing what they love, irrespective of whether they are recognized for it or not. They do not care if the world views them as heroes or not. They are often ridiculed and threatened. They do not care if they look foolish or quixotic at times. They never give up in the face of huge odds that would daunt or discourage the rest of us. One such man is Baba Amte – someone who in my opinion has done as much if not more for the people of the Indian state of Maharashtra than his peers and so-called social activists, most of whom have been conferred many more awards and accolades.

Who is Baba Amte? He is a 93 old year old man who has devoted his life to eradicating leprosy, preaching environmental conservation and teaching rural children to read and write – all of this in the most backward parts of the Indian state of Maharashtra. He has never asked for money, recognition or public adulation. He resists all attempts to deify him. He insists that he is no saint – just an ordinary human being. He has done so much for so many and asked for so little in return. And he has a wonderful, gentle sense of humor to go with all his other qualities. He was recently described as a legend in a self-centred nation. That is about right.

The Dalai Lama is another great man with an infectious sense of humor. At a recent interview, he was asked how it felt to be a god-king and spiritual leader of millions. He threw his head back, laughed whole-heartedly and said “I am an ordinary Buddhist monk”. No false modesty here, just the truth. Incidentally, I am not religious but Buddhism is the one way of life I admire. Twenty-five hundred years ago, the Buddha proclaimed two simple principles:

(1) True liberation of the soul is achieved by relinquishing control not acquiring it – this is contrary to the basic principles preached by all other organized religions, which state that rules and control imposed by a Higher Being should govern our lives. This principle was path-breaking and truly profound for its time, and still is.

(2) Real happiness comes from within, not without.

But I digress. What are the other hallmarks of great people? Many of them have faced unimaginable horrors and seen human nature at its worst. Yet their souls are untarnished, uncorrupted. They are intelligent yet simple, consistent and possess a child-like innocence that cannot be touched. The core of who they are as human beings is not for sale or compromise. That is wonderful to see. What makes the rest of us cynical and jaded only makes them stronger and more committed. They thrive in the face of adversity.

Greatness has nothing to do with how one looks, or whether one is well-educated, wealthy or well-traveled. It has everything to do with being able to consistently empathize with those around you. It has everything to do with bringing out the best in those around you, without actually trying. It is about being able to ignite the spark of divinity and goodness that exists in us all. Great people make us want to be better human beings, consciously or unconsciously.

Many people think they possess these qualities – in reality, very few do.

Great people stand out like beacons during the bad times. Like lighthouses in the days of old, they guide you home when you are lost. There is an old blues song that goes “Nobody knows you when you are down and out”. Well, these people do. I know a couple of such individuals. I will not embarrass them by mentioning their names since they will have visited this blog-spot by now, and some of you will know them. Suffice to say, I have known both of them for many years now. They are my “go-to” people – those I turn to when there is nowhere else to go. For this, and for their exemplary patience, empathy, good humor and talent for telling it like it is, I will be forever in their debt. Being who they are, they do not view it like that and would be genuinely surprised and embarrassed if I ever brought it up. So I won’t.

We tend to confuse great qualities or attributes with greatness. They are not the same. Somebody could be a great scientist or athlete but not be a great human being. I like money as much as the next person, but all rich people are not great human beings. Therefore, greatness is not always visible and not always easy to identify or objectively assess.

As I mentioned at the start of this essay, greatness is an intangible quality. But more people than you think may possess this quality. So watch out because the great walk in our midst.

Environment - Save the Tiger, save India

The tiger is under threat - everywhere. Recently, the International Tiger Coalition, comprising 35 organizations working to save wild tigers including the World Wildlife Fund, assembled the world's largest photo mosaic of a tiger in front of the World Forum Convention Center in The Hague with the message "End Tiger Trade”.

Currently, the chief threat to the tiger comes from China, where tiger parts and bones are used in ancient Chinese medicine. Tiger parts and bones allegedly cure everything from cancer to impotence, though there is no scientific evidence for these claims.
While the Chinese government has banned the sale of tiger parts for the last fourteen years, there is increasing pressure from Chinese “tiger farm” owners to lift the ban. “Tiger farm” owners in China have bred five thousand tigers in the hope that the Chinese government will lift the ban on the sale of tiger parts and re-establish this extremely lucrative trade.

Lifting this ban would be a disaster because it would again mean an increase in the poaching of wild tigers. A majority of wild tigers live in India. In addition, there are about three hundred Siberian tigers left in northeastern Russia - in a biosphere near Vladivostok. Siberian tigers are the largest cats in the world, and can grow to be ten feet long and weigh upto six hundred pounds. There also are a few hundred tigers left in Nepal, Bangladesh, Myanmar, Vietnam, Cambodia and Indonesia.

Estimates of the number of wild tigers in India vary – the actual number is probably in the region of two thousand. These tigers mostly live in forest sanctuaries such as Corbett National Park and Ranthambore National Park. These sanctuaries serve as “islands” and are the last refuge of this majestic animal. The low numbers of tigers and the “islanding” of their population has already meant that wild tigers in India are susceptible to many diseases, due to inbreeding. We can ill afford further reduction in their numbers.

The Rajasthan High Court has come down heavily on the state government and the Ranthambore Tiger Reserve authorities who are to blame for the dwindling number of tigers in the park. Tiger numbers are dwindling in India and across the world as a recent survey of the Sariska National Park shows. There are very few or no tigers left within Sariska.

The High Court has observed that governmental and park authorities are more focused on obtaining domestic and international funds (supposedly obtained to protect the tiger) instead of actually taking concrete steps on the ground.

The tiger is more than a majestic big cat. It is our national animal and the symbol of India, and represents everything that is wild, beautiful and free in our country. If we lose the tiger, it will be a quick, slippery descent into ecological hell for India. In the long run, protecting the tiger means protecting our rivers and forests and the future of our children. The extinction of the tiger will eventually hasten our demise as a species.

The whole approach to tiger conservation in India needs to be revamped - by taking it out of the hands of corrupt governmental officials (who often swallow the funds sent by local and international aid agencies for tiger conservation) and placing it squarely in the hands of local people who live in the forests. A comprehensive awareness campaign needs to be developed and implemented to educate those who live within or near our forests. The campaign needs to focus on how saving the tiger and its environment can be both economically and ecologically beneficial.

This has been done successfully at Corbett National Park in Uttaranchal. The locals have realized that protecting the tiger is good for the local economy and their bank balances. The tourists who visit Corbett bring money with them. Locals in the Ramnagar area get job opportunities as hotel staff, drivers, guides, etc. They have an economic imperative to protect the tiger and the national park. It makes eminent sense for them to do so.

In addition, forest officers need to be well-armed and well-compensated. Currently, there are many of them who work in our country’s forest reserves only because they are dedicated to preserving and protecting our nation’s natural heritage. They are poorly paid and armed with vintage, single-shot rifles that do not work most of the time. Those who do not succumb to the lure of big money offered by the organized and rich poacher mafia take their lives into their own hands every time they do their jobs. They are outnumbered and outgunned by the poachers.

In the face of such odds, an extreme measure that some countries have adopted is to hand over the protection of national forests and endangered species to their armed forces.

Time is slipping away for the tiger in India. The inept Central Government has no time for real action - they only mouth platitudes. Recent governmental attempts to save the tiger have become mired in politicking, finger-pointing and bureaucracy. There are a few dedicated individuals such as Valmik Thapar and Bittu Sehgal who are in the forefront of the “Save the Tiger” campaign.

Join them. Do what you can. Every little bit helps. Donate money or your time. Spread the message. Raise awareness. Ask your friends to read this blog.

Save the tiger - save India.

Music - Cry If You Want

This is an old post - first written on August 29, 2006 - before the new Who album was released.


The Who is playing some relatively obscure songs on their current World Tour. Some of these songs are gems ("So Sad About Us", "A Legal Matter", "How Many Friends", etc). But for me, the one I really want to listen to live is "Cry If You Want".

"Cry If You Want" is the last song on their final album they made back in 1982. The album ("It's Hard") is by their high standards, insipid and characterless. The lyrics lack the wit, intelligence, humour and sarcasm of their earlier albums - it sounds like a Sting solo album (I now await the righteous indignation of Sting fans). The band sounds like they are just going through the motions here, and this is the only Who album that doesn't tell you a story or advance a well-thought out point of view. Musically, it lacks any sting or punch whatsoever. Though the album sold very well when it was released, it was a critical disappointment.

It was the sad story of popular music in the 1980s - a barren decade for good rock music. It would have been a great album by the standards of corporate rock bands like Styx or Journey or Foreigner that dominated the airwaves in the early 1980s. But by Pete Townshend's own high standards, it was a sad way to say goodbye.

The album was poor - all except for the last song "Cry If You Want". Just when the listener had despaired of ever finding anything worthwhile on the album, this song came on. The opening bars crackle with menace and tension, and then Roger Daltrey's voice - unapologetic and whip-like, suddenly makes an appearance.

The song is about looking back at youth from the vantage point of rapidly advancing middle age. In the hands of anyone else, this would be a nostalgic, weepy, sentimental song. Not when Roger is singing it, though. Instead, it becomes a clear-eyed look at a past that started out full of innocence and high hopes, and ended in hearbreak.

The song focuses on the disasters that occured along the way - the deaths of geniuses like Keith Moon, the sheer waste of young life through over-indulgence and excess, the breakdown of marriages and relationships and the way the whole brave new world of the 1960s was hijacked and distorted by drug-crazed radicals, a mercenary record industry and a ravenous media hungry for sensationalism.

The beauty of the song lies precisely in its refusal to look at the past through rose coloured glasses and the ability to look at one's own flaws and follies without giving excuses. This song challenges the listener - it is not friendly or forgiving, it is in-your-face and real. When Pete Townshend writes such brutally honest, intense songs, nobody can match him, except maybe John Lennon in his "Working Class Hero" days. Songs like this are not for everybody because they are uncomfortable to listen to. But for those who decide to stay, there is no other way to write (or listen to) modern music.

"Once there was just innocence,
Brash ideas and insolence,
But you will never get away,
With the things you say today,
You can cry - if you want"

And finally, right at the very end of the song come the staccato machine-gun bursts of electric guitar - the famous Pete Townshend power chords that are absent in the rest of the album. They will blow you away, I promise. Maybe this was Pete's way of saying goodbye to the band he created. Maybe at the very end of the first incarnation of the band, he felt guilty that had foisted such a mediocre album on the fans that had stayed loyal for more than a decade and a half. Who knows?

If the band's first album in twenty four years (about to be released) contains songs even half as good as "Cry If You Want", it will blow every single current band out of the water. Anyway, the old boys are back in business and playing this song at several venues of their current World Tour. For those who are fortunate enough to catch the band live - enjoy!!

Trekking - A Walk up to Mohan's Cafe and a Cunning Plan

October 12, 2006

"I have a cunning plan, m'lord"

- Baldrick, the extremely stupid manservant to his extremely manipulative but unsuccessful master Edmund Blackadder, in every single episode of the British TV show "Blackadder"

Like Baldrick, I too have a cunning plan. But before I tell you all about it, I am happy to let you know that I did a nice 16 kilometre trek today, and feel pretty good about it. A few words about this trek are warranted.

I am in the Himalayas again. I walked up from the town I am vacationing in to a place called "Crank's Ridge" in the Lonely Planet Guide to India. This place is at 7,000 feet squarely facing 300 kilometres of the middle Himalayas. It is supposed to have a mystical aura about it. The number and types of famous people who have visited here make for interesting reading.

Indian mystics such as Swami Vivekananda and Rabindranath Tagore spent some time here, in addition to Jawaharlal Nehru and Mahatma Gandhi. In the 1970s, it was home for a few months to people like Timothy Leary, Bob Dylan, Allen Ginsberg, Cat Stevens and George Harrison of the Beatles. These guys probably came here as much for the high-quality marijuana (which is available in plenty) as for spiritual enlightenment. The writer D.H. Lawrence spent two summers here many years ago as well.

In the nearby town of Almora is located the Uday Shankar School of Dance. Uday Shankar was a famous dancer in the 1930s and was the elder brother of sitar maestro Ravi Shankar. Alumni of the school include late Indian film-maker Guru Dutt, Ravi Shankar’s first wife and sitarist Annapurna Devi and actress Zohra Sehgal. There are also several Buddhist centers up on Crank’s Ridge, as well as a hospital founded by the daughter of 1950s movie star and comedian, Danny Kaye.

Today, it is home to about 200 foreign residents, most of who are from Britain, Germany and Israel. In fact, the Israelis occupy a three-storied building and a lot of them come here to smoke dope, trek, gaze at the mountains and make love after they finish the mandatory military service in Israel. Not a bad way to spend a few months, actually.

I stopped for lunch at Mohan's Cafe - a great location with the Himalayas on one side and rolling green valleys on the other. This is an Italian restaurant that serves authentic Italian food including avocadoes (of all things), pizzas, Italian salads and pastas. It was founded by an Italian guy who has probably long since left. Avocadoes in this remote corner of the Indian Himalayas!!! The mind boggles (and stays boggled if one chooses to partake of the potent local marijuana - it is some pretty powerful juju medicine). I was the only Indian in the restaurant - all the others were either hippie types or foreign trekkers (the super-fit types). I heard harsh German accents, proper Queen's English and my favorite, the familiar nasal twang of a guy who must have been from Northern New Jersey. I had a brief conversation with a friendly young Israeli woman. She looked not just happy, but radiant, which made her beautiful indeed. She had to leave quickly - no doubt a hirsute, stoned Israeli boyfriend with a bad case of the munchies lurked somewhere in the background.

It was a very enjoyable day. This place now has broadband Internet cafes and thanks to the foreign residents, one can buy the choicest European chocolates and six different kinds of muesli breakfast cereal. I remember the place from twenty years ago, when there was nothing here except for a few stray hippies. The world is getting smaller, for sure. Every time I come here, I have to fight off the urge to sing the George Harrison song "My Sweet Lord" at the top of my voice. The place has something going for it, for sure. The great Himalayas, sunlight glinting on a butterfly's wing, rolling meadows and tall, evergreen trees. Even an ardent non-believer like me can see that.

And now for my cunning plan. I had a brainwave a few days ago (unaided by alcohol or organic stimulants, I might add). What if one made a plan to walk through the Uttaranchal Himalayas starting from the eastern border with Nepal, and proceeded to walk right through it (past the "Char Dhams" or 4 religious centres of Hinduism which are Badrinath, Kedarnath, Gangotri and Yamunotri), and into Himachal Pradesh upto Lahul-Spiti?

The entire trip would take about 7 to 8 weeks assuming one covered 40 to 45 kilometres a week - this is entirely feasible if one is reasonably fit, had a knowledgable guide, a bunch of pack animals and a oversize supply of toilet paper. This route (and a trade route of this nature does exist) would take one through the most beautiful mountain country in the world at altitudes between 6,500 and 11,000 feet - not lung-busting altitudes, for sure.

I brought this plan up with Bharat Shah, my friend here who is a trekking guide extraordinaire. He is excited about it and has started doing background research about possible routes, villages, stopovers, etc. Of course, this means an investment of money and time. I also plan to capture the trip on video, put in a script and add a voice-over. Not my voice, of course, which is sounding more and more gravelly - sort of like Bob Dylan singing "Masters of War" at the Grammy Awards a few years ago. But I will write the script, for sure.

I would then try and sell the end product to a TV channel. To my knowledge, no such program content exists. The objective is not to make money (though money is welcome), but to capture on film what would be an once-in-a-lifetime trip.

I will also need Bharat to accompany me, since he is familiar with the terrain at least within the Uttaranchal portion of the Himalayas. He is also a part-time anthropologist, and is very knowledgable about the culture, myths and legends of the hill-folk of the state of Uttaranchal.

I will not be able to make this trip next year. This is an expedition, and will require money. I hope to have enough money and time to make this trip sometime in 2008 or 2009.

So wish me luck. Unlike Baldrick's cunning plans, I hope mine do work out.

Music - Tribute to George Harrison

January 19, 2006

The sweet, ineffable electric slide guitar sound is unmistakable. Thirty six years after the song was recorded, one listen to the song and you know who the lead guitar player is. Yes - I am talking about the late lead guitar player of the most popular band of all time - George Harrison of the Beatles, who died four years ago of cancer.

All great guitar players have an unmistakable signature guitar playing style and sound that reflects their personalities - from the muscular, lean, rhythmic sound of Pete Townshend of the Who, to the rough bump and grind of Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones to the bluesy, caterwauling, wah-wah steel pedal of Eric Clapton and of course, the spacey, intergalactic style of the greatest of them all - Jimi Hendrix.

Great guitar playing is not about technical brilliance or how fast someone can play - it is about developing a style that is distinctive and unique - and George had this in spades. His guitar playing style was very different from everyone else's - it could be sweet and ringing - listen to his first solo album in 1970 ("All Things Must Pass"), or it could snarl, bite and cut as deep as a switchblade knife - listen to his guitar solo on John Lennon's song "Gimme Some Truth" on John's second solo album "Imagine" in 1971.

Incidentally, 'Gimme Some Truth" is one of the greatest rock songs of all time. For three straight minutes, John Lennon raves and rants about everything wrong about post 1960s society - from his own heroin addiction, to the breakup of the Beatles and the end of his friendship with Paul McCartney, to the US presidency of Richard Nixon and the death of his own idealism. It is a song that shakes listeners out of their complacency. And, George's guitar work on the song is exemplary - it matches Lennon's impassioned singing blow for blow, and the stinging, sweet guitar solo takes your breath away.

George made some lovely albums in the 1970s and then faded from view, only to resurface in the late 1980s in a supergroup called the Traveling Wilburys with fellow old farts and 1960s legends Bob Dylan, Jeff Lynne, Roy Orbison and Tom Petty. Hanging out, having fun and making music with such eminent personalities reminded him of how enjoyable rock music could be, and the results show in his rejuvenated guitar playing on these albums. His songs on that album are self-deprecatory, funny, profound and poignant - all at the same time.

George was a mystic and an avid student of Hindu philosophy. He spent months up in Rishikesh and in a little town above Almora in the Uttaranchal Himalayas back in the 1970s.

The next time I am up there, I am goin' trekking up to that town. The town itself has become like a New-Age spiritual center. There is a small artists colony and a few meditation centers promising you a short-cut to nirvana. I will sit on a green mountainside on a beautiful, cloudless autumn day, forward to the song "My Sweet Lord" on my beat-up old Discman, turn up the volume, and raise a toast to George Harrison, the quiet Beatle.

If there is an afterlife, George's spirit will be somewhere in those beautiful mountains, looking down and smiling at me.

Amen

Music - Live At Leeds - All those years ago

June 17, 2006



The Who (or the Two still surviving) will be playing at Leeds University tonight - 36 years after their landmark concert at the University Refectory there in 1970. The UK newspapers "The Guardian" and "The Independent" are full of news about the concert and the anticipation it has generated. After all, these guys are the only reminder of the old days - along with the Rolling Stones. The Yorkshire Evening Post had a picture of the people lined up for tickets with the caption "Hope I buy before I get cold" - a clever take on the song "My Generation" with its immortal teenage rebellion lyrics "Hope I die before I get old".


The 1970 concert was made into the greatest live rock album of all time - titled simply "Live at Leeds". It was an awesome album.

Listen to the long instrumental break in the "Magic Bus-My Generation" jam - simply the greatest live guitar playing ever (apologies to Jimi Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughan), with Keith Moon's possessed drumming somehow laying a impeccable backbeat, perfectly in sync: John Entwistle's thunderous, fluid melodic bass guitar playing and Pete Townshend weaving chords in and out of the thunderous rhythm section, all the while leaping about like a monkey, without missing a single beat. This is rock music at its finest - great thought-provoking lyrics, humor, muscular, crisp instrumentals, not a note wasted, not an ounce of flab. Loud and melodic at the same time, beautiful yet simple, awe-inspiring yet accessible.

36 years later, after drugs, death, the Vietnam war, divorces, civil rights, nervous breakdowns and everything else, the remaining two members will be playing at the Leeds University Refectory tonight. It is a far cry from 1970, when student unions ruled the roost at American and British universities. Guitarist-songwriter Pete Townshend is 61 years old, singer Roger Daltrey is 62. Founder-members Keith Moon and John Entwistle are dead.

But some things never change. The janitor at the Leeds University Refectory is the same woman now, who as a young woman in 1970 found Roger Daltrey attractive, and had a beer with him at the local pub after the show. Their sound engineer Bobby Pridden will still be around to record the show. Some of the old students who were hippie rebels in 1970 and saw the show have now become conservative Tory MPs, accountants and anesthetists. But they'll still be there. And though Keith Moon is dead, his god-son Zak Starkey (son of Keith's best friend and ex-Beatle Ringo Starr) will be there playing drums.

And the Who will unveil songs from their first album since 1982.

So, jump, Pete jump!! This is the closest thing to eternity that ever comes around in our short lives. Hopefully, some things never change, they only get better.

Football World Cup - Old Guys Rule!!

June 28, 2006

I love it when old guys like me do well in sport.

Last night's game between France and Spain showed why football (soccer) is called the beautiful game.

Frenchman Frank Ribery's equaliser after Spain had scored was a thing of joy. From thirty yards out, Patrick Viera passed the ball out into what looked like acres of open space in the Spanish half of the field. Not a Frenchman in sight. Suddenly, out from the right, runs in Franck Ribery, at pace. He leaves both his markers for dead out on the right wing, runs diagonally across the face of the goal, runs coolly around Spanish goalkeeper Casillas, and puts the ball into the net.

Ribery would not win any prizes in a beauty contest. He looks like one of Johnny Depp's more disreputable pirate side-kicks in "Pirates of the Caribbean". But like the Americans say - he got game!!!! No wonder he is being touted as the next Zinedine Zidane. He has speed, tremendous ball control, dribbling skills, and like most great strikers, an unerring instinct to head for the opposition's goal and to create open spaces in free play.

After struggling for most of the game, the old boy himself scored. In injury time, 34 year old Zinedine Zidane ran down the Spanish left flank, wrongfooted Spanish defender Carlos Puyol, and swivelled. Spanish goalkeeper Casillas expected him to swivel half-way across, and instinctively dove to his left. Zidane swivelled 90 degrees and slotted the ball into the top right hand corner of the net. Great goal from a great old player. For a moment, you saw all the grace, touch, control and artistry that Zidane is known for.

The old guy still rules!!

Football - The Story of Garrincha - The "Little Bird"

July 12, 2006

Now that the World Cup is over, and the legends of the game are being counted, it is important to remember a man who died an alcoholic, alone and nearly anonymous - Garrincha or the "Little Bird" - the man who led Brazil to World Cup victory in 1958 and 1962. Those who saw him play rated him a better player than even the great Pele, which means he was the best football player the world has ever seen.

Garrincha or "Little Bird" was born Manuel Francisco dos Santos in a poor Brazilian family. He was born with a defect in one of his legs - one leg was shorter and curved inwards. This defect however was perfect when it came to football. It gave him the ability to dribble rings around players, and to suddenly turn and accelerate at great speed, leaving opposing defenders stranded in his wake. He was, undisputedly, the greatest dribbler of the football the world has ever seen.

In 1962, he won the World Cup games against England and Chile almost single-handed in the absence of Pele, who was injured. An interesting fact is that Brazil never lost a game when Garrincha and Pele played together in the Brazilian team.

Garrincha was a man of slight build and stature. He was also a simple, uncomplicated man. When his team-mates were celebrating the 1958 World Cup win, he was initially bemused, having been under the impression that the competition was more league-like and that Brazil would play all the other teams twice!!

Pele was an industrious man, who saved and invested his money wisely. He appeared in commercials, worked hard, became a football celebrity and a multi-millionaire. Garrincha believed whole-heartedly in having fun. His passions in life were football, women and alcohol - in that order. He is known to have fathered at least 14 illegitimate children from numerous women, none of whom was his wife. He was interested in playing football - he did not know how to handle money or celebrity. Other raunchy stories about him are legion - it is said that he lost his virginity to a goat. Of course, Garrincha isn't around to verify or dispute these stories.

He died in 1983 at the age of 49, of liver failure caused by years of alcohol abuse. Even on his deathbed in the hospital, he could not restrain himself. He drank prodigiously and had sex with nurses assigned to look after him.

He was a cripple, an illiterate, an alcoholic, a womaniser - and a complete footballing genius. Maybe the message on his gravestone says it best: "Here rests in peace the one who was the Joy of the People — Mané Garrincha."

Economics - The Dumb Debate over SEZs

September 27, 2006

The Congress (I) Conclave in the salubrious environs of Nainital in Uttaranchal ended a couple of days ago. In between pious pronouncements about the welfare of farmers and minorities (all designed to win the U.P. assembly elections early next year), was an astounding statement by Ms. Sonia Gandhi regarding Special Economic Zones (SEZs).

The current coalition government after many stops and starts had approved the large-scale development of SEZs. This was a wise decision approved by the entire UPA alliance, except of course, the Communists, who oppose any initiative that promises progress and prosperity.

Now Ms. Gandhi says that the interests of farmers should not be harmed by the construction of SEZs. What are SEZs? SEZs are large tracts of land that are turned into hubs of manufacturing or service led activity. They fall outside the scope of the government’s tax and licensing structure, which make them nimble and efficient. They are primarily set up to encourage export-oriented manufacturing and services led growth, boost rural employment and enhance the country’s GDP and international competitiveness. All of these are very laudable objectives.

However, as usual, in India , there are fears that there will be unscrupulous land-grabbing of agricultural land, without adequate compensation to local farmers. Instead of setting up a transparent, accountable mechanism that ensures that farmers are adequately compensated for any land bought from them for SEZ development, the government’s policy now is to go slow on SEZs. This is like throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

The need for SEZs is undisputed. India already has too many farmers. Agriculture provides a livelihood to 60% of the country’s population or about 600 million people. However, agriculture contributes only 25% to India ’s GDP. A majority of these 600 million people are marginal, subsistence farmers who would gladly move to other professions, if they were given half a chance. They constitute India ’s rural poor, and are farmers out of compulsion, not choice. This is especially true in North India . Well-managed SEZs will provide the rural poor millions of jobs in manufacturing and service industries, and make a severe dent in India ’s high poverty rate. It would also reduce the migration of the rural poor into cities, in search of jobs. Here is a golden opportunity to employ India ’s rural poor and make them competitive in the global marketplace.

There are other innovative ways in which SEZs can contribute. Instead of paying taxes to inefficient and corrupt state and central governments, companies within SEZs can be asked to build schools and hospitals within the zones they operate in. This would ensure efficient usage of tax revenues without the interference of bureaucrats, and provide India ’s crumbling rural education infrastructure a boost. This would be a great way to educate rural children and also ensure that they have other career options apart from cultivating small plots of farmland.

It does not require a rocket scientist or a doctoral degree in Economics from an Ivy League school to figure this out. All it needs is clear, transparent policies, a well developed game plan, and a few responsible people who will drive this SEZ initiative.

So, do SEZs work? Just look at China – they set up SEZs in the mid 1980s to achieve a quantum leap in their economic growth, and look at where they are today. Hope and pray that at least some of our leaders will help in making this happen in India.

Places - A Visit to Auroville

February 12, 2007

I just returned last night after a visit to Pondicherry and Auroville. More on Pondicherry later. Auroville was founded by Sri Aurobindo and his French companion - she is simply called Ma. He apparently passed away sometime in the 1950s. Ma passed away in 1973. Sri Aurobindo was a yogi and philosopher. The approach to Auroville is very pretty indeed. One good thing the Auroville authorities have done is to protect the environment around the community, in terms of forest cover. It is much greener than the surrounding towns and villages. I do not know much of Sri Aurobindo's philosophy, but I got the strong impression that Auroville is Ma's idea.

The idea was to set up a utopian community without social hierarchies and where people from all over the world could work together in a collaborative (as opposed to competitive) spirit. This sounds suspiciously New-Agey and hippie-like and a born skeptic like me is full of questions.

While this sounds very good on paper, history demonstrates that such attempts to build utopian communities invariably fail. Leaderless communities disintegrate into chaos. Ultimately, a social hierarchy of some sort always develops. Whether we like it or not, capitalism is still the only viable form of economic governance between human beings. This is because it is based on rational self-interest. Is capitalism perfect? No. Can a balance be drawn between pure capitalism and concern for humanity? Yes - this is the quintessential search that has occupied most well-meaning people since the beginning of civilization.

While the community's goals sound lofty, the impression I got is that Auroville is ultimately not what Sri Aurobindo set out to achieve. As a yogi, he probably realized that the spiritual quest is essentially an individual one. By attempting to commoditize it as at Auroville, it appears that one set of community beliefs (organized religion with a leader) has been replaced by another, which is remarkably similar to it.

The centerpiece of Auroville is the huge golden-plated geodesic dome in the centre of the campus. While the dome is certainly worth a look, I am not sure that it accomplishes any specific objective in particular - apart from providing Auroville with an unforgettable symbol and brand recognition. Of course, this could be the whole idea. I found the enormous, ancient banyan tree next to the geodesic dome to be more interesting.

The place is populated by hippies, young and old. The place is a little "Disneyfied", with a gift shop selling highly priced artifacts and souvenirs.

There is, however, a undeniable sense of calm and serenity at Auroville, which is probably what most "seekers" come for. I sat near the geodesic dome for an hour, soaking in the ambience.

Oddly, the one memory I will always carry from Auroville has nothing to do with the place at all. There was a little boy of four or five who was lost near the Information Area at the Visitors' Centre. He looked like a small child from one of the surrounding villages. He was about to start panicking, when he spotted his parents. The look on his face when he saw his parents, as well as the joy and relief he felt upon being re-united with them was worth going miles to see.

And that ultimately, is the human experience. To want and love, and to be wanted and loved in return is what constitutes life. Yogis or saints preaching renunciation may have something valuable to say, but for me, the key to salvation lies in engagement with humanity and not retreat from it.

Music - Second Top Ten List

February 23, 2007

Some time ago, I had sent out a list of my Top Ten favourite songs. By popular demand (OK, I know that nobody specifically asked for it, but writer's ego and all that....) here is the second part of my Top Ten list on my favorite songs (songs 11 through 20). The earlier list had ten songs. This one has ten songs also.

Here goes:

(11) Lola - The Kinks (1969): There are many candidates for "best barroom song in the world”, including the Stones "Honky Tonk Women", the Faces "Stay With Me" which was featured in my earlier list, and Dexy and the Midnight Runners "Come On, Eileen". All worthy candidates, all very catchy and funny sing-along songs. But my favourite is "Lola" by the Kinks. The Kinks were the P.G. Wodehouse of the 1960s and 1970s. Ray Davies skewered the 1960s Swinging London scene with songs like "Well-Respected Man" and "Dedicated Follower of Fashion". Lola is a song about an innocent country boy falling in love with a transvestite in a bar in Soho. Very funny stuff.

"I'm not dumb, but I can't understand
Why she walked like a woman and talked like a man,
Lola, Lola
Well, I'm not the world's most physical guy,
But when she squeezed me tight,
She nearly broke my spine,
Lola, Lola"

(12) Come On, Eileen – Dexys Midnight Runners (1982): Another great barroom sing-along song by the original Irish folk-rock band. Before U2, there was Dexys Midnight Runners. They were fronted by an eccentric fellow named Kevin Rowland. Their attempts to combine rock and traditional Irish folk music met with mixed success. When it worked, the results were thrilling as in this song. The song is not complex or thought-provoking – just a a young man in a bar trying to persuade a lovely woman named Eileen to you know, uh, come on, if you get my drift.

Imagine a tired young man in Cork or Dublin - just an average joe, who has worked all day at a menial job - he may be a bricklayer or plumber. After a hard day at work, he pops into his local pub for a couple of quick ones on the way home. Imagine his astonishment as he sees the girl who lives down the road (Eileen) whom he has known and ignored for years, standing in a corner of the bar, looking very fetching indeed. After emboldening himself with a couple of cold ones at the bar, he sidles up to Eileen and starts making amorous advances.

“Ah come on let's, take off everything
pretty red dress,
Oh Eileen tell him yes
Ah come on let's,
Ah come on Eileen

At these moments,
You mean everything
With you in that dress,
Oh my thoughts I confess
Verge on dirty”

The song does not tell you if our young hero was successful in his endeavours or not. But it is very funny and the tune is irresistibly hummable and will make you tap your feet. No wonder it got to No.1 on the Billboard Charts on both sides of the Atlantic in 1982 - back when the world was young.

(13) Walk On The Wild Side - Lou Reed - (1972): Lou Reed was a friend of Andy Warhol and the chronicler of all things decadent on the New York art scene in the 1970s. This song is an observation of all the freaks, transvestites, hangers-on and junkies that hung out in Andy Warhol's studio. The singer is part of the scene, but detached at the same time. And - the song has a great bass-line.

(14) Gloria - Patti Smith - (1975): This is the definitive punk cover version of the original Van Morrison song. Patti sings, hisses, chants and bellows her way through the song, while adding a few lyrics of her own.

"Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine"

(15) Bang A Gong (Get It On) - T.Rex (1972): This song is about the joys of uh, getting it on. No two ways about it. It is also one of the catchiest songs you will ever hear. Marc Bolan sings and breathes orgasmically throughout this song. The bass line is irresistible and infectious. Nothing coy here - just an open-hearted song about a guy who loves to make love to his beautiful girlfriend, whom he adores. Listening to it makes one want to, uh, you know what (I hope nobody is scandalised here)!!!!

(16) Who Knows Where The Time Goes - Fairport Convention - 1970: Sandy Denny's voice !! She could be singing the telephone directory - it doesn't matter. When you combine that voice with guitarist Richard Thompson’s chords and a wistfulness and nostalgia about past good times - it just doesn't get any better than this.

(17) Baba O'Riley - The Who – 1971: Great lyrics, pounding rhythms, arresting synthesizer work and that transcendental violin solo at the end that makes you feel like you are having an out-of-body experience. A song about love, devotion, individualism and trying to explore ways to live life to the fullest. I still believe in this song, after all these years.

"Out here in the fields,
I fought for my meals,
I get my back into my living,
I don't need to fight
To prove I'm right,
I don't need to be forgiven"

(18) It’s All Over Now – the Rolling Stones – 1964: This is before the Rolling Stones became famous. A very young Mick Jagger full of attitude, a very young Keith Richards playing a guitar solo and a great backbeat by drummer Charlie Watts transform this R&B staple composed by the late Sam Cooke. Jagger sounds spiteful, Richards’ guitar solo is simple and effective, and makes you want to shake your moneymaker.

(19) Into The Mystic - Van Morrison - 1970: Sublime. A song about a sailor coming home to his beloved after a long, arduous journey (shades of Ulysses returning to Penelope at the end of the Trojan War). Van Morrison's soulful voice, beautiful acoustic guitar and a lovely saxophone solo make this a classic. Anybody who has been away from home for extended periods of time and is finally returning, will know what this song is about. Like most Van Morrison songs, this one also creates an atmosphere - very few artists can do that.

"When that foghorn whistle blows,
You know I will be coming home,
You can hear it, I can feel it,
And I'm gonna rock your gypsy soul,
Just like way back in the days of old,
And together we will flow,
Into the Mystic"

I know I am one song short, but I love so many songs!! More will follow soon. Hope you enjoyed it.