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(Late K.P. Tripathi: 1910- 14.4.1984)
(Ex-Member of 1 st Parliament, Finance Minister of Assam, Vice-President INTUC, Chairman National Textiles Corporation)
Exactly this day, 31 years ago you left us; but you are as fresh and relevant in our lives even today. And that is the making of a noble and great soul.
Every now and then, after a couple of steps I halt to reminisce your teachings and will continue do so.
May you rest in peace.
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By Kamlesh Tripathi
The desperate debate raging on ‘Equal Internet’ in India is reflecting very badly on the Czars of telecos. Who otherwise project themselves to be the cat’s whiskers. In their day to day life they project themselves as honest citizens. True to India and its citizenry and especially its youth-force. But behind the scene they form such unethical cartels. That may scuttle and whittle the chances of many innovators and beginners and that too just for some extra pennies.
This stealthy move jeopardizing equal internet has however exposed them. Ruling BJP should be very careful in playing into their hands. As they have lost a lot of sheen. Ever since they came to power. For not much has changed on the ground. The so called “Acchey Din” continues to be that alluring mirage. Please join the movement against this day light robbery of internet freedom.
Nice editorial in TOI of today: for your ready perusal
“An Equal Internet
Government and Trai heed citizens cry for net neutrality”
*****
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Finding is such pure joy. And how rare, too! It had been several years since I had picked up anything when I found a penknife, a Hindi thriller and a five rupee coin, the last named beaming at me from below the seat of a ramshackle bus plying in our very own metropolis. Recalling that Elvis ditty ‘finders keepers, losers weepers’ I closed my eyes, stiffened my sinews and commended my soul to God before picking up the coin glistening in the errant sunbeam which had chanced through one of the innumerable slits in the roof. Nobody noticed. The conductor did raise a quizzical eye brow but that was about all. The term ‘conductor’ through over use has lost its semantic substance. The fellow is basically a logistics manager and with training can outsmart any sophisticated route operator. Even a funambulist might take a cue from the number of jobs he juggles while on board the boneshaker. This perception is wholly reserved for our country. Now coming back to the treasure trove -the Hindi thriller was a disappointment- not a patch on the Col Vinod and Capt Hameed era whodunits. Hindi detective fiction since then has been on the decline, virtually on the ‘endangered species’ list. Such a sorry state is inexplicable considering the vast treasure of Indian fiction available in genres like Sorcery, Witchcraft, Tilism, and detective fiction. ‘Chandrakanta’ and ‘Bhootnath’ had once fired the imagination of generation of readers and also contributed immensely to the popularity of Hindi language. These works of Devaki Nandan Khatri have outlived the copyright regime and are in the public domain since the early 60s. That is why they were churning out Chandrakanta serials decades ago paying scant regard to the original text and plot. But perhaps I am digressing.
In a life time frittered away looking at the mirror I scarcely noticed the ‘sixpence lying at my feet’. I was never much of a chance finder. At times one does strike a gold mine but the instances are so far removed that they vanish like the may snow drift. Once while waiting to get my vintage Ambassador car serviced I came across an unclaimed copy Of Human Bondage by Somerset Maugham. I was familiar with the works of Maugham and therefore happy to add to my collection of Moon and the Sixpence and Eyeless in Gaza. The neo-intellectuals in my college days would talk of Camus, Kafka and Maugham in the same breath. Perusal of their works was considered the hallmark of intellectual prowess and was a sure passport to the local salons where deipnosophists abound. Photograph of Camus in a trench coat and fedora with a cigarette dangling loosely from the corner of the mouth, looking very much the Bogart of the noir genre, was one of the most widely reproduced photograph of the time.
HUMPHRY BOGART
God’s largesse did not end with the book. This time it was a crumpled hundred rupee note with remnants of superfine khaini , the closest western variant being the snuff, much in vogue among the aristocracy of Europe in the days of yore. This bonanza came my way while going to Ranchi town from my college campus at Mesra. It was not one of those savoury trips one looks forward to but an undignified exit due to hostel vacation orders. As the college had been closed sine die it was being hotly debated whether to push homewards or to foregather in some cosy pastoral retreat for some good times together. It all depended on the pelf and riches.
Emboldened by the find I decided to join the merry revelers, home being at ‘Lands End’. Though I put the money to good use I still haven’t been able to figure out what made the fellow to ‘crumple it’ and to tuck the promissory note under the seat. Perhaps he was a chance finder like me and had acted the way he did to avoid detection by fellow passengers. Of course he would take the booty away while disembarking. Another plausible theory was that he has merely stored the surplus khaini there for a rainy day quite forgetting the king’s ransom in the form of a crumpled note.
I might add, that now and then, perhaps a ball pen, pocket comb or a sparsely populated purse or some such trifles, no matter how well supplied one may be with, cannot be acquired without a thrill. Think of a Blackbury or a Rayban thus found. We all live and learn. A defeatist may venture something like “it takes all sorts”.
The essence of finding something which brings to us unalloyed joy is half unexpectedness and half uniqueness. There being no aposematic forecast, no intuitive premonition and the ‘gift’ coming to you by chance: no one is to be thanked, no one to be owed anything. “Something for nothing … ” Ay, there’s the rub…”. Shakespeare has put these things so beautifully. To look for the thing is to transform the whole plot-to rob it of its ‘sublime suddenness’-perchance to become even concerned or greedy.
In its larger context we may use the word discovery-something akin to Columbus discovering America or was it the West Indies. Our concern for trifles and small findings are at once so stimulating and pure joy that to meddle with it would only appeal to a killjoy. Yet there are people who have an unsavoury sense of the sport!
I recall the small rustic game or charade being played out by stringing a purse or paper money (bill or note) or any such desirable object which the casual walker gleefully stoops to pick up. The pranksters conveniently hidden from view have a field day as they pull the string leading the unsuspecting wayfarer on a merry chase. There are many clever variants which the fun-seeking lads have in their repertoire. In this cyber age of ours such diversions may seem blasé. But for a country whose half the population lives below poverty line there may still be some relevance left in such innocuous and simple pastimes.
One common thread which runs through this serendipity is the absence of haste. My once rural seat and current urban dwellings present contrasting styles in time management. Reckon a simple activity like breakfast. Absence of haste is anathema to modern spirit. For most commuters it is always charged with disturbing quiet. The unnerving scenario of buses disappearing round the corner and the cacophony of traffic jams brood over the chota hazri , transforming mild God-fearing men into wild harpies as they sprint out like bats from hell. Down at the rural seat the meals are leisurely and indolent- a perfect epitome of laid-back country life of a cultured man. It is a breakfast of ease and languescent mood, a meal of ‘soft murmurs and rustling papers’.
Circumstances afford little options. This harum-scarum age of ours has everything excepting time where brutish bolting of food is the in-thing. However, a quiet leisurely, laid- back meal by the crackling logs in winter has its unwavering charm.
Let’s take a little time off for ourselves.
“We look before and after
And pine for what is not”
A.K.Tripathi,
Guwahati-2015
*****
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Neither Popcorn nor Vadapaav, nor Prime-Time shows can force people, to see Marathi movies. If the movie has content it doesn’t require any of these support systems and if doesn’t, then support systems may help once or may be twice but not beyond that. And, it is indeed ironic that Devendra Fadnavis, CM of Maharashtra sitting in the thicket of Indian film industry missed this moot point, or he shammed, by offering an expired political lollipop. For at his beck and call is the entire Bollywood film industry who could have suggested better ways to promote Marathi movies, and thereby, Marathi culture. But before that the CM needs to make up his mind if he wants to Promote ‘Marathi’ culture only via Marathi movies; and have all other ways and means of promoting Marathi culture, been exhausted?
Promoting a ‘culture’ is a two way process and not a three hour film show as being made out. Movies can definitely provide a fillip to cultures, but then ‘cultures’ per se, also need to reach out to areas and population where it too wants to spread.
And, in fact the great old ‘Marathi’ culture does not require the crutches of any Marathi film, positioned in prime time and posh PVRs. But, what it requires is the seamless intermingling and hand holding with other communities, languages and societies and for this to happen some Marathi Netas should stop their periodic tirades against people who have settled in Mumbai and Maharashtra from other states.
For, let us not forget, though all-time great, Chatrapati Shivaji Maharaj had an iron grip on his sword, he also had a family called ‘Bharat’ also called ‘India.’
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Mystery deepens today on Subhash Chandra Bose. For who was Gumnami Baba? Read the full column till the end and the two newspaper clippings appended.
Everything needn’t be proved. The world can as well live, with unproven stuff. For there is no scientific proof that God exists. Yet the majority on planet earth, believes in some form of God. Arising, purely out of faith. And ‘faith moves mountains’ as the saying goes. Post Subhash Chandra Bose’s air crash some believed he was dead, and some felt he was alive. In Lucknow there was a strong buzz, that Subhash Chandra Bose is alive and in solitary confinement near Ayodhya, and this how the story goes.
‘When I was young and in a school in Lucknow. There were rumours galore that an old ‘Baba’ stays near Ayodhya in a secluded ‘mutt’ and that he is Subhash Chandra Bose in hiding. And that many senior political leaders and government officials often come to see him but no civilian is allowed to meet him. So, then, who was he, if not Subhash Chandra Bose? This was a common hearsay in Lucknow, Faizabad and even Ayodhya around late sixties and early seventies. The veracity of this story can be traced back to some intelligence archives of the UP Government. But the moot question remained, why was Subhash Chandra Bose in hiding?
And, to that we were told that Government of India had an unwritten understanding with the British, after independence. That ever in future. If Subhash Chandra Bose was found alive post the air crash on 18th August 1945. He would be handed over to the British Government for his secessionist acts. Where, the only punishment would be ‘capital punishment.’ But Government of India could not have handed over, its worthy son of the soil to the Britishers, even if clandestinely committed. So, when Subhash Chandra Bose was found alive, after the air crash he was kept under house arrest, and in hiding at a secret location in Ayodhya. And, later after some years there were rumours that the baba had died.
Whether proven or unproven. There is no smoke without fire and such issues where the masses are not at rest keep simmering off and on.
Read the article by M.J. Akbar on Nehru snooping titled. “Some Fire Smouldering Within Smoke.” Appended above.
And below is another interesting article titled–“Mystery lives on: Did Netaji Subhas Bose really die in that plane crash.”
By Kamlesh Tripathi
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https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com
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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause the bank details are given below:
NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION
Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)
IFSC code: BKID0006805
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By Kamlesh Tripathi
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https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com
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Share it if you like it
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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause the bank details are given below:
NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION
Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)
IFSC code: BKID0006805
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Our publications
GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE
(The book is about a young cancer patient. Now archived in 7 prestigious libraries of the US, including, Harvard University and Library of Congress. It can also be accessed in MIT through Worldcat.org. Besides, it is also available for reading in Libraries and archives of Canada and Cancer Aid and Research Foundation Mumbai)
ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY
(Is a book on ‘singlehood’ about a Delhi girl now archived in Connemara Library, Chennai and Delhi Public Library, GOI, Ministry of Culture, Delhi)
AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES
(Is a fiction written around the great city of Nawabs—Lucknow. It describes Lucknow in great detail and also talks about its Hindu-Muslim amity. That happens to be its undying characteristic. The book was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival of 2014)
REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD
(Co-published by Cankids–Kidscan, a pan India NGO and Shravan Charity Mission, that works for Child cancer in India. The book is endorsed by Ms Preetha Reddy, MD Apollo Hospitals Group. It was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2016)
TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN
(Is a story of an Indian salesman who is, humbly qualified. Yet he fights his ways through unceasing uncertainties to reach the top. A good read not only for salesmen. The book was launched on 10th February, 2018 in Gorakhpur Lit-Fest. Now available in Amazon, Flipkart and Onlinegatha
(ALL THE ABOVE TITLES ARE AVAILABLE FOR SALE IN AMAZON, FLIPKART AND OTHER ONLINE STORES OR YOU COULD EVEN WRITE TO US FOR A COPY)
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Seshachalam forest massacre
Entire India is upset with what has happened in Seshachalam forest except, perhaps, the Government of Andhra Pradesh which one way or the other is trying to justify this dastardly act and has no sense of proportion when it kills 20 woodcutters for 20 logs that were recovered from the sight as per TOI.
But is this any way of carrying a dead body? Isn’t it inhuman and violates human dignity? And who will resign on this absurdity, the CM Chandrababu Naidu or the DGP of Andhra Pradesh, JV Ramudu? Can one think of carrying any VIPs dead body like this then why a labourers body? You are bringing shame to India.
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By Kamlesh Tripathi
Court’s Stand Puts Pressure on Centre- Cabinet likely to take up bill
Supreme Court as usual has done extremely well. In coaxing the centre to have a re-look at the law. Providing mild punishment to juveniles when they are involved in heinous offences. In fact the Supreme Court has requested Parliament to differentiate between juveniles involved in innocuous and serious crimes.
In today’s day and age. Children mature much faster. And, from an early age of around eight to ten years they learn to handle mobiles, smart-phones, Tabs, Computers and even NET-surfing. They go global to compete with the best or the worst of the world. They do not dwell so much on the noble values of their parents. But get more influenced by the heft of materialism. The strings of loose morals that manifest in their parents and families.
A case in point could be Aakash in Gurgaon. Who could not be reformed as a juvenile. Recently he was held for a second murder at the age of twenty one. The first being at the age 14. When he killed his school mate with the revolver of his macho dad. That he carried to school.
Read, the column below that appeared in TOI recently; an eye opener.
GURGAON: Gurgaon Police has arrested Aakash (21) who shot his friend dead in a city market on March 25. This was Aakash’s second murder. Seven years back, when he was only 14, Aakash had smuggled to his school – Euro International in Gurgaon — a revolver that belonged to his father’s friend and shot dead a classmate with whom he had a scrap a few days back.
According to sources, acting on a tip-off, a police team carried out a search operation around Sultanpur Lake on Sunday night and arrested Aakash alias Ashu and his three associates from a Mahindra Scorpio which was parked there. He evaded arrest so far by hiding in parts of Himachal Pradesh and then in Rohtak district. Cops recovered two illegal pistols from the vehicle. On Monday morning, all four accused were sent to three-day police remand by a city court. “All the accused have confessed to their role in the murder. We are questioning them further and hope to solve the case soon,” said Ved Prakash Godara, DCP (crime).
In his confession, Aakash reportedly told cops that Manish Kumar alias Bihari (23) repeatedly tried to kill him after a dispute over money, leaving him with no option than to kill him first in “self-defence”.
“Aakash has told us that more than a year back Manish sought his help in recovering around Rs 1.5 lakh from a third party and promised to share the money. Once Manish got the money, he refused Aakash his share and they had a fight over it. Aakash claims once Manish forcefully stopped his car with the intent of killing him but he escaped narrowly. Another such attempt was made during a friend’s wedding in Manesar,” an investigator told TOI.
Aakash then planned to kill Manish with the help of three other friends, one of whom is undergoing trial for the murder of a village sarpanch in 2011.
The three aides have been identified as Ashok alias Mental, native of Gijhi village, Manjit alias Monu, resident of Titoli village in Rohtak, and Manish alias Moga, native of Dundahera village.
While Manjit and Manish have no past crime record, Ashok is undergoing trial for the 2011 murder of Dalbeer Sarpanch of Nayagaon-Nayabas village in Rohtak.
On March 25, around 9pm, the accused came in a car and shot Manish Kumar at point blank range while he was eating momos at a stall in Sector 21 market. The victim, a native of Muzaffarpur in Bihar, himself was a history-sheeter and had been booked in several cases of murder and theft. He was recently released after serving a jail term for attempting to murder a lawyer in Kapashera.
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Recently when I was in Lucknow. My hometown. I met quite a few of my old school friends. Whom I had not met for an eon. It was nostalgic. Seeing them and their better-halves. Some of whom. I was interfacing for the first time in my life. Ever since they had got married. But, strangely, I couldn’t meet their children barring a few. As most of them had moved out, to either Mumbai, Bengaluru, Pune, Chennai, Hyderabad, Delhi-NCR and some even abroad. In pursuit of professional careers and greener pastures. But as a saving grace. I could meet the children of two of my friends. One in business and the other in politics. Both readying themselves. To take on the mantle from their father. This got me thinking. As to why, all these children had to leave their hometown. Perhaps, it was in pursuit of their careers. And, in the process they had to leave behind their parents, many of them now old. In fact, what I came to know later was. They had to leave their homes much earlier and way before. They even started their professional careers. First for professional education and then for jobs. This brings me to the sad point. That most of my friends are now living alone, with their spouses.
Post, India’s independence. When Jawahar Lal Nehru became the Prime Minister of India. He towed with an interesting idea of having one ‘heavy Industry’ in every district. That could have given employment and career opportunities to many, locally. But, unfortunately the bright idea never saw the light of the day. Perhaps, Nehru had realised. Though India is an agrarian society. Agriculture alone will not be able to take the load of its population explosion. From around thirty crore then. To a hundred and twenty five now.
Meanwhile, some smart states of India. Driven by their vibrant and entrepreneurial combo of PBEs (politicians-bureaucrats-entrepreneurs). Took lead in developing pockets of industrial corridors in their states. That served as an early bird advantage. Such pockets came up mainly in the states of Maharashtra, Gujarat, Karnataka, Tamil Nadu, Haryana, Punjab, Delhi, parts of Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh. To name a few, soon after independence. This now gives them, an exponential edge over other states. That did not follow suit, only to become laggard states. And, how quickly and craftily. The business savvy PBE of these states also realised. That Industry and entrepreneurship should not be close to the seat of power that is Delhi. Therefore they made Mumbai the financial and business hub of India. Now let’s see what happened to some other big key states of India after independence.
Let us start with Bengal. A front line state of India then. Much promoted and hyped as a business-savvy state by the Britishers. But, it stopped thinking about business. The moment Stalin, Lenin and Marx started parading the streets of Bengal. The tremors of which were felt in the entire North East. When existing businesses started closing down and new ones feared to enter. The age old and much hyped Bengal centric boast of, “What Bengal thinks today, India will think tomorrow,’ died down. Entrepreneurial drive vanished. In fact, on a lighter vein. I even remember a joke that goes on as follows:
‘What will happen if you give a dozen Bananas each. To a needy Punjabi, Bengali or a person from the Hindi heartland of UP-Bihar? The most likely answer would be. Bengali will eat all the bananas in one go, UP-Bihar will eat six and save six for the next meal and Punjabi would eat six and sell six. And ergo, that sizes it up, quite well.
But, what happened to Bihar including the present day Jharkhand. And Uttar Pradesh including Uttarakhand. The political nerve centre of India. Is historically amazing, and to be more precise, pathetic. We have had eight Prime Ministers from Uttar Pradesh. They all have served India including UP and Bihar for 44 years. But still U.P. is where it was-Laggard. Further, many important portfolios under these Prime Ministers have been held by great stalwarts as ministers from Bihar. But still, Bihar is where it was- both backward and laggard. Except, for adding a few new trains as a royalty of sorts. Not much has been done for these states by these ministers. In fact a stray Integral Coach Factory that was once gifted to Allahabad, was also handed over by Mrs Indira Gandhi to Kapurthala during Punjab agitation to please the Sikhs. When easily she could have announced any other project. Or given an additional coach factory to Punjab, or could have announced something in return, for Allahabad. But she did nothing of that sort.
UP-Bihar is a typical case of Chirag tale andhera. U.P. only knows how to make Prime Ministers. Which is an old loaded pride of the state. In return. These Prime Ministers who hailed from Uttar Pradesh genuinely thought of serving and developing India. But not the state of U.P. as a whole, where they hailed from. On the contrary they only focused on their own constituencies for development and that too. Not in a professional manner. And never ever concentrated on the entire state. For example take the case of Rae-Bareilly. It has been the bastion of Gandhi family for decades. But is still nothing to pride upon, even after so many years. Specifically, if we were to compare it with Baramati. The bastion of Sharad Pawar.
The other point that comes to my mind was the combo of PBE in UP-Bihar. That never worked in unison and ran their own agendas. Unlike the ones in the advanced states. Where entrepreneurial bench marking, economic progress and educational sufficiency of the state was an important cardinal rule, irrespective of which party ruled. Truly, a tacit understanding. And, in all of this. The much complacent populace of these states also need to be blamed. As they never demanded the best out of their PBEs. Rather, they kept smiling at whatever they got. Not realising that their children, one day will have to face the brunt of all this.
And, last but not the least. Netas from UP-Bihar did not fare well in business, entrepreneurial and industrial astuteness. They never had a hidden string of understanding among themselves, while they belonged to several parties. To take their state on the path of progress. As compared to their counterparts from advance states. Where they also bickered. But when it came to intrinsic issues about the progress of state. They joined cause and had some form of understanding and unity. In fact netas from UP-Bihar were far ahead in political brinkmanship. But that only helped their party, themselves personally and their family and friends.
In domino effect. I’m sure the present generation of job seekers and professionals from the laggard states must be asking. Why Bengal, Bihar, Jharkhand, UP and Uttarakhand are not like Maharashtra, Gujarat, or Karnataka? What have the dynamic combo of PBEs of these advanced states done which our PBEs couldn’t do? When will people from Mumbai, Bengaluru and Gurgaon come to work in Lucknow, Patna and Ranchi. And more specifically when will I get a chance to work in Ranchi, Patna, Lucknow and more specifically my hometown. The harsh answer remains the same. Not during their lifetime. But I don’t rule out miracles.
By Kamlesh Tripathi
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In the epic Mahabharat, Bhishma or Bhishma Pitahmah was the eighth son of Kuru King Shantanu who was blessed with a wish- long life (more precisely the boon of Ichcha mrityu) and had sworn to serve the ruling Kuru king and grand uncle of both the Pandavas and the Kauravas. An unparalleled archer and warrior, he once fought his own guru the mighty Parusrama and defeated him. He also handed down the Vishnu Sahasranama to Yudhistir when he was on his death bed of arrows in the battle field of Kurukshetra.
The epic of Mahabharat has twice been shown, in two very long spanning, super hit TV serials, and many of us are aware that when the first one was aired, normally on Sunday mornings, trains were made to stop, by passengers for watching the serial. And so, not much needs to be explained and told about the life and character of mighty Bhishma Pitamah.
Bhishma means He of the terrible oath, referring to his vow of lifelong celibacy. Originally named Devavratha, he became known as Bhishma after he took the Bhishma pratigya (terrible oath) the vow of lifelong celibacy, and of service to whomever sat on the throne of his father (the throne of Hastinapur) and had he not taken this vow, he perhaps would have fought from the Pandava’s side.
And in today’s context BJP refers LKA (LK Advani) as their Bhishma Pitamah, more on the cadence of Hindu mythology. But, at times I wonder if LKA would even agree, if asked to play this larger than life role that ends on a bed of arrows, unless this also has been imposed on him as his forced retirement of sorts.
For logically speaking, if BJP positions LKA as its Bhishma Pitamah; then Bhishma Pitamah is surely in the company of Giriraj Singh a BJP leader and a minister who is a misogynist and a serial offender of the kind.
And Giriraj Singh rattles the soul of Rajiv Gandhi, when he insults Sonia Gandhi. His reeking comments about women remind in some ways of the misdeeds of Duryodhana and Dushashana, and the episode of disrobing Draupadi and he further goes to insult Nigerian women who happen to be dark; not realising that in some ways he is insulting Goddess Kali and also Hidimba who happens to be Vir Ghatotkacha’s mother and wife of Bhim who also was dark and from the Asur clan and therefore in every possible manner insulting Indian women. And in all of this the present day Bhishma Pitamah (LKA) helpessly keeps silent. So then why would he remain the Bhishma Pitamah of BJP?
Further Bhishma Pitamah of Mahabharta was stuck to the wrong throne where he had no powers to govern, and neither had the choice to move away, even if he wanted, on account of his pratigya, but what about LKA who is not bound by any pratigya? So should he stay on, even if the party degenerates morally?
Until now, LKA has stayed on with BJP, nursing his recent political bruises and insults, but what happens when the population of people like Giriraj increase and the throne itself comes under fire; for he is apparently not stuck to any pratigya; and then will he still stay on as Bhishma Pitamah or move away? For let’s not forget LKA started the famous ‘Rath Yatra’ that led to BJPs victory in the Lok Sabha polls; and that exhibits he still might be a man with convictions and fire in the belly.
And for Giriraj Singh who happens to be a father of a daughter and a believer in Hindu mythology, needs to regularly remind himself that we have many Goddess, who appear in many colours including black. And, the exemplary example of male God could be of Lord Shiva who turned blue because he drank all the poison that came out of Samudra Manthan. And, so India is not colour allergic, maybe Giriraj Singh is.
And BJP should be careful while using mythological titles such as ‘Bhishma Pitamah’ for patriarchs such as LKA, especially when it has colour allergics and misogynist leaders like Giriraj Singh. The latest caution point being L.K. Advani deviating from the tradition of delivering his customary speech which he did over the last 35 years in the recent BJP National Executive meet. Perhaps, he is smelling the coffee.
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Both Sabharwal and Swami were very senior to me both in age and seniority. Our office those days was in the sprawling boulevard of Parliament Street in New Delhi. Just opposite to the VIP police station, and not very far from the point where it embraced the ever famous Connaught circus. The pride of New Delhi and even India.
Sabharwal, a Punjabi Khatri used to reside in Kirti Nagar. While, Swami a Tamil Brahmin in Karol Bagh. That happened to be the nerve center of the huge South Indian population, residing in Delhi then. Sabharwal and Swami (S&S) made an interesting duo. One being the likes of a carefree, lively and mast Punjabi. The other, a conservative and ritualistic Brahmin from the South. Sabharwal then was the liaison manager and Swami the admin manager of the company.
While Sabharwal truly believed in YOLO (You only live once) and often basked in the theory of carpe diem. Swami prescribed to the simple Brahmin culture of south. And he made it more evident by sporting the famous horizontal chandan tilak on his forehead. Which noticeably, by the time he use to reach office used to dry up and change its colour.
But even with all the asymmetry between them in terms of their origin, habits, language and gait, I still found S&S to be the toast of office. I guess, the combination was explosive and somewhat different. Apparently, they were very good friends. They used to come to office together in the morning and even leave together in the evening. In Sabharwal’s faded, yet rugged Vespa scooter.
Once, like every other morning. Sabharwal, with his helmet tied to his chin. That reduced his audibility anyway, in the crowded traffic of Karol Bagh. Reached the usual spot, from where Swami use to hop on to his scooter. He saw Swami standing there. And as usual he halted for a moment and moved on. Thinking, Swami is well perched behind him. In about half an hour he reached office. As traffic used to be much less those days. Only to realise Swami was there. Most likely he was left behind.
Sabharwal, perplexed to this very unexpected one waited for some moments at the car park for him. Then slowly walked up to the office in the second floor. And following him soon. In Rambo style entered Swami, fuming. Mobiles were not invented then.
‘Arrey Baba, kya hua? Before, I could even sit. You moved the scooter, when my leg was midair.’
‘Arrey Swami, sorry yaar! I just don’t know what happened to me. I was in deep thoughts. Thinking, how to tackle that idiot in Udyog Bhawan. I stopped and moved, thinking you were on board, and since I was in deep thoughts. I never spoke to you and for some strange reason. I thought even you are quiet today. It was only when I was nearing Patel Chowk. I realised the scooter was feeling very light. Is when I turned around and you were not there.’
Out of breath Swami was slowly coming to terms with Sabharwal’s gross error. Is when we all had a hearty laugh followed by a cup of tea.
Today, Mr Sabharwal is not with us. To laugh and remember about this endearing and hearty episode. But we all have cherished memories of him. And this is what life is all about. My tributes to him, and may, he rest in peace.
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