The Wake Up Call

The Wake up Call

At last, the fast by Anna Hazare is over and there is now a lull for the time being. In the aftermath, while we may keep debating on issues relating to the movement,   what is beyond any doubt is the spirit of patriotism and sense of nationalism   which were seen together for the first time on the streets and, through T.V, in the drawing rooms all over the country and even beyond the borders. The atmosphere reverberated, as never before, with the ranting of patriotic slogans and fluttering of the tri-colours on the huge lawns. 

And, more than anything else, the movement remained unbelievably peaceful and unexpectedly non-violent through out while the nerves of Anna Hazare and his team were on the trial. It was amazing to watch the movement gathering momentum and Anna’s supporters multiplying with unabated zeal and without being bothered to be away from their homes and work places for so long as the agitation lasted. Above all, socio-political life in Independent India having been an exclusive territory of political parties so far, it was surprising to see this agitation being fully bereft of any political affiliation.      

Why and how all this was happening is a matter that needs our attention in the interest of our own future.  If we look the whole thing a little more carefully we will be left with no doubt that this was the culmination of  brewing frustration and anger within most of us over a period of six decades, as we watched helplessly the system, so fondly adopted through the Constitution of India, degenerating in down sliding pattern. It was the anger at our helplessness to see the country drifting into a wrong direction like a ship without radar. We have been watching so far with patience widening gulf between the poor and the rich acquiring threatening proportions, electoral politics degenerating gradually to touch the  lowest ebb,  corruption expanding to get into  every corner of our national life, and , all this  with no perceptible indications in sight towards  containment of  the trend , leave alone  eliminating  the evils that have been plaguing our society.

Whereas the political phenomenon has only been presenting the picture of utter depression,   the cream of intellectuals, capable of providing intelligent lead, sat and watched with indifference leaving politics to be played with the crude game of numbers and money playing obnoxious role. With rising cost at all sectors, from education to medical, services to businesses and the life tainted deeply by unbridled commercialism, corruption and nepotism with ethical norms being replaced by materialistic compulsions, the majority of the population, comprising middle and the lower middle class, finds itself caught in the web of hassles and in the quagmire of penury which they try to conceal behind the vanity of their living styles. With credit cards in their hands and mobiles on their ears, most of them can be seen   braving   their way to meet their both ends, collecting huge and lofty sums to meet the admission and capitation fees of their children or looking for the roof over their heads.    

There have been innumerable causes for such a condition to develop in our country. However, it looks that ‘corruption’, with its very broad connotation to include most of the evils in the society, came handy as an easy word to define their present plight. As for the leadership, they were looking for some one devoid of political moorings to take the cudgel and, in Anna Hazare, the Gandhian to the core, they found the one they were looking for.  In fact, the spontaneous support of lakhs of people for Anna was a powerful expression of their flagging faith in the existing system of governance and desire for speedy change. And for that they could go any far to provide support to the Anna team.  Their anger was against the entire political class, though, the party in power had to bear the brunt as being front ending them in the Parliament.     

At stake, during the thick of the agitation was, the dignity of the august constitutional body, the Parliament, which, in effect, meant the dignity of the Constitution itself which had to be preserved at all costs, though the party in power in particular, and the political class as a whole, were in a dilemma how to get out of the mess that they were in. It indeed goes to the credit of the political leadership that displayed maturity, after initial fiasco, and rightly asserted the supremacy of the Parliament as the legislative body. And, at the same time, the agitation spearheaded by Anna Hazare scored, which they wanted to, which was to demonstrate its popular strength and sending the message to the entire political class that the people will no longer take things lying. Yes, they have succeeded in installing the wolf to remind parliamentarians that either they do their job well in their interest or be prepared to be devoured without a wink. 

In fact , the governing class has been guilty of turning a blind eye to what should have been visible even to a blind man a few decades ago .Were it not so,  we, as a nation, would not have missed to take the important milestones seriously, whether it was fifty years of Independence or of Republic, which  were taken more as rituals for national celebrations, to pat our backs unashamedly at our successes and ignoring the glaring failures whereas , such occasions should have been  taken as a God sent opportunity to pause, sit and introspect and , based on our experience gained as the biggest democracy in world, to review the working of the constitution and  make amends  to keep the highest law of the land in tune with the changing times. Instead we lived from day to day until the aberrations which crept in the system over the years started showing the adverse impact on the life of common men.

This is the wake up call and, if the powers that be do not act, there is every possibility that people may again come on the street. Let us not live on the delusion that it is Lokpal Bill versus Jan Lokpal and that once a strong bill is passed the war will be over. It is only the beginning and we should be prepared to expect more if timely steps are not taken to understand the nature of aberrations and to exercise required correctives in the existing system.                  

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Seize the Moment-History in the Making

SEIZE THE MOMENT BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE

Anna Hazare’s Crusade against Corruption unfolds the simmering discontent amongst the People

While it is a little too early to declare that  the present moment in the history of India  is a turning point , there seems to be no doubt that we , as a nation , are certainly at the cross roads and unless we seize the moment with broad understanding and uncanny wisdom , we may perhaps miss the opportunity that has come our way to bring about much needed  changes to improve upon the existing system of governance with a view to strike at the very source that generates corruption and serves as sweet heaven for evils like casteism, criminalization of politics.

 Peaceful, typically in Gandhian style, the massive support from almost all walks of life all over the country, to the second round of agitation, spearheaded by Anna Hazare, has been simply mind boggling .None expected it, and the worst, the Government failed to assess its magnitude and acted with misplaced confidence that they would scuttle it. That did not happen. The Government could not see the writing on the wall  and had to climb down, in full view of the world, paying heavily in terms of their image  which,  in any case ,  has never  been good and high , as the entire elected class , rightly or wrongly , has been  perceived to be corrupt and arrogant. Like in any other walk of life , the class of politicians too has the mix of good and bad. However, in general perception, the entire class stands  tarnished in black. That perhaps accounts for the reason that they are not trusted to be right even where they are right. It is also for this reason that the support to the team Anna has only  been swelling all over the country with each passing day.   

This agitation led by Anna team is unique  in many ways . While there have been innumerable agitations and movements in the country after Independence ,  those  were   spearheaded  either by  the political parties or by the trade unions. It  is for the first time that an agitation has been kick started by  non-political forces which have rallied round Anna Hazare who began it with his hunger strike against the rising phantom of corruption in the country. And now the agitation has  entered  the second phase with Anna Hazare sitting  on hunger strike from August 16^th 2011,  to press for  a strong Lokpal Bill and rejecting the one introduced by the Government in the Parliament.

Incidentally , while the on going agitation is   ignited by the apparent logjam between the Government and the team Anna representing civil society on the issue of Lokpal Bill, according to a hurried  survey,  around seventy percent of the people participating in the agitation with unprecedented  enthusiasm,  are not aware what lokpal Bill  is all about.  However, be that so , the  spontaneous  massive  support  for Anna Hazare  reflects people’s uneasiness at the growing phantom of  corruption and that is all that they know .  They are  in no mood to tolerate it any longer. Their out cry “ Quit India’,  as seen on the television  amongst hundreds of  innovative slogans,  is symbolic of their rising anger against all pervasive corruption in  the country and takes the agitation to the level which is reminiscent of movements during the days of Freedom Struggle.  

 Unfortunately, the Government , which, in the last six  decades, has become accustomed to handling the agitations by political parties and trade unions , instinctively took this also as the one coming from  a trade union  and confronted it with the same methods and tactics only to be   caught on the wrong foot. Perhaps, they were emboldened by the success of the  mid night action by the police against the agitation of Baba Ramdev , forgetting that it left the entire country aghast and angry, ironically not so much  because of their support for the Baba but because it reminded them of the  unpleasant past.    

But what is agitating my mind is the speed at which the agitation is gathering momentum without the base fully created to take it forward as crusade with clear cut direction . It is easily said than done as “Quit India Movement”. Who to quit India?  Corruption? Unlike  British Imperialists, it is not a  personality or an entity that can easily be  identified  and can be asked to quit or  pushed out . It cannot quit the country like the British rulers did  on  the historic  midnight as the clock struck 12,   saying goodbye to India and Indians  gracefully. Can we expect the same thing to happen  in the case of corruption? At best , it can be the beginning of the protracted battle to combat the ills that plague our democracy.

Corruption is like termite that eats up the vitals rending the whole body unuseworthy. Though it is seen at time as a patch on a  surface, its destructive impact spreads all around  hidden beneath the whole of it, making it almost impossible to locate the area and ascertain the extent of damage.  To put a more apt analogy, it is like  a disease that gets chronic by the years engulfing one organ after the other . It is a  disease that cannot be  cured without  proper diagnosis and  sustained treatment  with appropriate doses of right medicines.  It is not something that can be eradicated or even  contained  by pest control methods. You  kill  hundreds of cockroaches that creep on the floor of your kitchen and another hundreds will come up, unless you strike at the source of their creation.   Have we done it ? Or , are we doing it?  If we do not do it , if we do not  work it out  as a proper  package of strategy to attack at the source of the problem, it will end up as  a cry in the wilderness. 

Let that not be allowed to  happen. All of us, wiping out the lines of differences between the Government, political parties and civil societies, should join hands and give meaning to the rising spirit of upsurge. Let us come out of the psyche of a trade union approach to agitations where there are two sides , where demands are exaggerated to secure maximum gains at the negotiating tables and the other side acts miserly only to concede which  it is forced to do.  Let there not be the two sides of the table  to discuss the Lokpal Bill, assuming that it will be  panacea for all the ills of the society. But let us not refuse to take it up as the first vital step provided it is a well conceived body created to function within the frame work of the Constitution. Let us not assume that God almighty will come down to take charge as the Lokpal and set everybody right. That will be too much to expect from a Lokpal . After all, he/she too will be from amongst us, good and bad , to the extent we  as a nation are. 

 Let us understand the implications of some of the basic issues which distinguishes Government Lokpal Bill with the  draft of the Jan Lokpal Bill of the Civil Society. If needs be, such issues of vital differences can be thrown up for deep consideration of a body of experts  drawn from varied sectors and sections , fully conversant with the system of governance as provided by the Constitution of India that we wrote ourselves. Let us not forget that most of the ills, including the rampant corruption in every walk of life , is the by product of the system that we have adopted, and that  the existing system, far from eliminating the traditionally exiting ills , has only been fanning the fire. Let us start with through analysis of corruption as menace and then find ways to combat it with hopes of hundred percent success.  Let not the energy of angry millions go waste.  Let us Seize the moment, before it is too late.          

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My Encounter With Ghost

 -- This is a modified version of a piece which  I had written in Sept 1995 and was published in Pioneer  on 15th Sept 1995

 “Fear is the little darkroom where negatives are developed” said Michael Pretehard .To me, it appears, that the entire big world is a vast darkroom  where negatives are churned out day in and day out. Only a few wise men are able to see them as the source of positive print outs. And so was it in this case.  Ghost existed for me  because “It  exists only  for those who want to see them.”  

 

My Encounter With Ghost

*

It was one of those unusual days when the life practically gets crippled by the onslaught of snowy cold winter.  The whole  week was  bitten by the cold  wave  that blew mercilessly through  long mountain  slopes of the Himalayas engulfing  the entire north India. Adding to the woes was  incessant  downpour through  the whole  week  that turned the fast buffets of chilling  wind into ferocious hurricane . Thick and long branches  of huge trees, laden with weight of green bushy leaves, lay haphazardly on the roads, blocking the passage to whatever  thin traffic chose to be on the  roads .
                                                                                           
But the chilly weather, which  had forced  almost  entire town to remain indoors that day , could not  stop us from  reaching  our destination, the tiny but  decent restaurant , where six of us would habitually assemble every evening  to gossip, between sips of  tea and puffs of cigarettes, on any thing   under the sun. We fondly called it discussions as if  it was the part of our college curriculum. In between, couple of us would walk out to stroll on the crowded market roads for a change, but would make a hasty retreat, lest our absence for long would deprive the world of our confabulations on a matter of international significance.  Some others would come, participate  and go like co-opted members to a conference.

 Escaping the vigilant eyes of my grand father , I stealthily took out my bicycle and made my way towards the main market to join my friends at the restaurant. And they were all there with the punctuality of a cadet, as if absence could invoke severe punishment. As I could see from their excited faces and frayed tempers, they were  in the midst of an interesting story which  kept them all spell bound.  And the story  was intriguing enough to be really  interesting . After all , it  rotated around  popular myths and mysteries surrounding the existence of  ‘ghosts’ which, by the time I joined the group, had culminated into a lively debate  with lines sharply drawn between believers and non –believers.

 Despite our loud claims to be  rational in our out look, refusing to accept anything without convincing proof, there were obvious marks of skepticism on of the faces. Yes, some of us were  carried by the   spicy stories  that  were being narrated to provide strength and support  to  long  arguments extended by  couple of our friends  who were finding it difficult to dismiss  as mere illusion the existence of ghosts without any incontrovertible proof. Proof, and that too without any shadow of doubt!  No way.  It was not forthcoming on a theme as dicey as this.  Naturally, our so called intellectual group was caught in the dilemma whether ‘to believe or not to believe’ in these unseen phantoms . The twists and turns  in the arguments for and against,  punctuated with punches of spicy anecdotes , were too interesting and thought provoking for the on going  debate to be given up abruptly half way. But, with the darkness of night spreading intensely,  there had to be an end to it, even if  without any conclusions as usual. And we dispersed reluctantly to return to our homes.

The  day had already drawn closer to midnight when I picked up  my old bicycle after nearly four  hours of  marathon  gossiping which, I realized when I came on the road , had kept us quite oblivious of the growing darkness  of the deepening  night outside, devastating impact of thunder  and rains on the roads, the hazards, God forbid, that we might encounter on our  way home. And I did encounter the  formidable foes. I fell in the invisible hands of the Ghosts.
 

The dark clouds overhead , with blinding glares of lightenings  and deafening sounds of thunders, threatened another burst of torrential rains. I found the roads deserted except for a few passers by. Pale flickering lights from the lamp posts did little to inspire confidence. It was as if the entire area wore a dark cloak. I have not been a brave type but not a coward either. But the awful atmosphere forced me to revise my opinion about myself. My palms were moist with mist as  I pedalled hard to pick up speed, humming tunes to myself, more to allay the rising fear than for any lightness of mood. I kept moving on the long stretch which seemed unending, praying  silently  in between the changing tunes, to  reach home safely without encountering any major impediment. But that was not to be.

As I entered the labyrinth  of the old market complex, my  bicycle suddenly came to a grinding halt, as if stopped from behind.  I found myself standing on the road awkwardly, confused and helpless, with not a soul around.  I quickly checked the bicycle and found nothing wrong. It moved  smoothly with me as I walked  with it a few steps. I jumped on it to ride again and it stopped with the same suddenness. I was already jittery.   I could not help the nagging thought that this could be the handiwork of evil spirits who had in me an  easy target to play  pranks. I looked around like a dove caught between hounds. The more I thought, the more I felt the horror of the  rhythmic steps of  ghosts dancing around me  with mocking gestures.

The occasional wails of cats and barks of dogs only added to the weirdness that surrounded the area.   I made one more frantic effort to move the bike but gave up immediately when I found that it would  not move as if held  back by the invisible hands of a mischievous ghost. The prolonged discussions in the cafeteria  on the subject was already fresh on my mind. What had seemed earlier illusions of evil spirits were now coming alive before my eyes as ghosts  in flesh and blood .  All the stories heard about ghosts appeared to be true . I was gradually becoming more and more inclined to believe in their existence as much as I did in my own. What could be a better proof than what I was confronting  at that moment?  

I have  heard people say  that if we are able to overcome the fear of death, we have  conquered man’s  worst enemy . And I had reached a point where death looked imminent and  inevitable. There seemed to be no way but to fight it out with all the might and wisdom that I had in me. Once  this inevitable reality sunk in my mind and I reconciled  to the  impending fatal  disaster, the fear that had overtaken me so far  withered away like the scent in the air. ‘Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness’, the old chinese proverb flashed my mind. And I felt better. Cursing my friends for the predicament I was in , I mustered all the courage  and made the last ditch effort to save my life.

                                                                                           

 Remembering the words of  Jeremy Schwartz, "Live every day as if it is your last, because one of these days , it will be.”, I lifted the bicycle over the head and banged it on the road with all the force I could gather. And I did it using the bicycle to be a lethal  instrument in hand to hit the ghost. The sound of its fall made me feel still better. I stood motionless for  a few seconds watching the steel frame that lay on the metalled  road  with its rear rim curled up. Silence that followed the bang  assured me that I had hit the target and forced  them to retreat. I looked around cautiously for any counter attack before  I pulled up the bicycle on its two wheels and, finding nothing but eerie of terrifying silence,  jumped quickly on it. Surprisingly it moved , though with low intermittent creaking sounds . Despite the pride of a victor, I hurried towards my home without daring to look back. As I was drawing away from the scene, I started  feeling elated at the thought that I could outsmart the ghosts and had beaten them down. 

As I entered the lit premises of my residential area, I stopped to catch my breath. Holding the bicycle , I stood at the roadside for a few minutes to get over the trauma of the past and impending wrath of the future at home. Suddenly it occurred to me to  check the machine  to find out where the noise was coming from. As I looked at the rear wheel ,  my eyes got fixed on the brake. I found that the lever of the brake had tilted in a manner that the slightest pressure from above would bring it closer to the rim.  Relieved of the pressure, the rim was free to move.  As the mystery of the dancing Ghosts unfolded itself and  the truth dawned on me, I laughed aloud heartily, without bothering  that I might be taken a lunatic by  a few of the passers by . I felt like dancing on the road. After all, on time discovery of  an otherwise  insignificant fact saved me from becoming  all time convert to a diehard believer in the existence of ghosts. But the sudden  thought of two piercing eyes of my old grand father waiting restlessly for the return of his spoilt grand son busted my balloon of mirth  and mellowed down my jubilant mood. 

Delusion of Appearance---a piece of write up

This piece is based on a incident stored in the recess of my memory which serves to remind me never to form an opinion about a person  in a haste. He  may be far too different from the picture you draw about him on his  face value.  

DELUSION OF APPEARANCE

“Travel, in the younger sort, is a part of education; in the elder, a part of experience”, wrote  Francis Bacon . True, but if I say that it was both  a  precious  education and a sweet experience  when  I  had to   travel  by a passenger train , I  may perhaps not be taken seriously. Who will believe in this age of superfasts  that  I can   feel enamoured of having  travelled in a passenger train?  But, believe me, it is true and the whole stretch of journey is still fresh in my mind even after four decades.

It was a hot sunset  when,  after a long hectic day , I, accompanied by a  college friend,  rushed fast  to catch the bus which we missed by a few minutes.   Instead of waiting indefinitely for the next bus , we took a chance at the railway station and, luckily for us, a passenger train , which was running late as usual , stood  at the platform, as if  waiting to receive us. We did not give a second thought  and   boarded  a general compartment . Travelling by a passenger train ! So what .  It was better to be in the illusion of movement, we reflected , than  be  stranded.

We  stood  at the entrance and  surveyed the inside view to get acclimatized  to an atmosphere which was  alien to us  and to  locate a dignified spot where two of us could be accommodated comfortably. After all, we were white collared shairi babus(urban elite), amply proud of our English speaking talent. As I threw a casual glance ,  I saw people rubbing shoulders to create space for themselves. Most of the berths   were  already occupied by passengers of different hues and colours.  The village  folks   in their traditional attires were engaged in activities , from caressing their children to munching their meals . A group of young men were engrossed in the game of cards , unmindful of the surrounding . Some sat there lost in their own thoughts. A few amongst  women were  talking  in hush hush voices, perhaps about their inlaws and husbands. At last, my roving eyes stopped at the cabin where a group of  reasonably well dressed gentlemen was sitting ready to resume the pitch of their  discussions  which perhaps got dim and inaudible in  the din of    commotion of the standing train at one of the biggest stations on the route. And that was the spot where we settled down.   

As the train moved  I heard  the  group  talking loudly amongst them, perhaps resuming  their gossiping on topics of interest, from qualities of recent releases of films to  personal lives  of film stars , their acting talents, stories of collapsed marriages, their affairs and characters.  Gradually gossiping transformed into serious discussions, from increasing rate of crimes to increasing prices in the market , from casteist politics to pseudo-secularism. Each one spoke with an air of confidence and with authority of  an expert shifting subjects  from vagaries of weather to shrewd moves of politicians.

Though we pretended  to be indifferent, we had  our ears to their heated debates all the time . We were finding it difficult to keep aloof  and  no sooner I got the opportunity to  intervene, I pounced at it and made a valid  point. We  got drawn to the  stream of  so called intellectual interaction  and became part of the group,  as if we knew each other for years. As the discussion  advanced on a topic of utmost importance, the future of democracy in our country , views expressed by some of them made lot of sense. And I found it all to be such an exhilarating experience that I  had to revise my opinion  about traveling in a passenger train.

Far from being averse to its stoppages at short intervals , I started enjoying the journey   for its  leisurely movement , crowded and yet specious. Nobody seemed  to be in a hurry, not the train  at least. I could look  at the faces that spoke  volumes, heard peels of laughter reflecting carefree attitudes, eyes that wept without trickles of tears telling tales of want and misery.  It brought me  face to face with the bitterness of  human  existence. I could see   each one of us  carrying  an invisible burden of life like a bull carries hump on its back. And the best part was that it provided   a natural   forum for thoughtful exchange of ideas , lively discussions, heated debates,  meaningful seminars without being tied up to the formal  rules of the game or the constraints of the formats.

  

As the discussion shifted to  spirituality and metaphysics involving Vedic scriptures, Bhagavat Gita, Buddhism, Islam and Christianity,   our chatting became more and more  loud and aggressive. The pitch got raised to a crescendo synchronizing  rhythmically  with the clattering sound of the  moving  wheels of the train. But there was sudden fall of the pitch and swift mellowing down of the excitement. We had to be silent for a few minutes.

 In fact , as the  train  stopped , we saw an  old man , half clad in  dirty clothes, boarding  the compartment .and making  his way to occupy a seat facing ours.We watched him in disgust.   His black skin, coated with patches of  dust was glistening with  darkness  and touches of repulsive whiteness. His dishevelled  and dry long hair, uncut for years , as if rubbed in sand,  rested on his head like  a deserted  nest on the branch of a dried up tree. His eyes  protruding through two holes  were roving and restless  as if looking for something that was not there. He sat on the berth  unmindful of our presence and seemed lost in his own thoughts . Person with such a demeanour could hardly be welcome to an area which was predominantly occupied by white collared gentry.

As the commotion created by  sudden intrusion of this new guest subsided ,we resumed the debate, returning to the same high pitch . We could not help  watching the old man now and then from the corner of our eyes as he threw casual glances on speakers as they spoke.   Irritated by the  foul smell that his body emitted, some one amongst us commented contemptuously  about him  in English . We had no choice but to ignore him and get back to our topic of discussion. 

One of the speakers spoke  about the role of fate. He argued. "Well, if nothing happens without the will of Providence , call it with  whatever name , the god, the almighty , luck, fate or destiny, what is then the relevance of action, the karma, which forms important part of the philosophy  of Bhagavat Gita . How could the mortal beings be responsible for their actions , if they are pre-ordained . It is like holding a motor bike responsible for an accident whereas the rider on it, not the bike, has the real control over it."  His argument was contested by counter arguments. "True," countered someone, " that destiny has a part to play. But God has blessed the  man with His most covetous gift, the brain. If he cannot use it to decide what is right and what is wrong,  then  what befalls on him as a consequence of his action , he  escapes by  attributing it to the fate . Is it not pure and simple escapism?"  The arguments went on heatedly, and as it happens in case of discussions on such a ticklish subject , none was  ready to concede to the others' point of view.  

And then  we heard the thunderous voice as if coming from a long tunnel. No. It was from the tattered looking man facing us. In  his sharp baritone voice he intervened in fluent English that left us baffled and shocked .  In a few chosen words, he commented on the theory of Karma quoting profusely from Bhagavat Gita. He said that  Arjun also posed the same question to Lord Krishna, when he said :

“Sannyasam Karmanam  krsnapunaryogam ca samsasi

Yacchreya etaorekam tanme bruhi sunisctam”

(You extol renunciation of action and at the same time advocate yoga of action.  Krishna, give your considered view which one of the two is decidedly better.)

And Sri Krishna replied:

Sannyasah karmayogasca nihsreyasakaravubhautayostu

Tayostu karmasannyasatkarayogo visisyate

(Both, renunciation as well as yoga, are beneficial.  But, between the two, yoga(engagement in action ) is preferable.)

Before we could make sense of what he said , the train stopped and there he went  and got lost in the merging crowd at the platform leaving behind the bunch of idiots that we made of ourselves.We felt ashamed at our shallowness. True, in his abnormal attire and demenour he could hardly be  welcome  and that, to an extent,  abated our sense of guilt . But guilty we  did feel at  our  contemptuous remark against him  that we thought he would not be able to decipher.

As if this was not enough to teach us a lesson in humility, we encountered another episode  the same day. The train reached our destination late in the evening. We walked through the exit gate and looked for a rickshaw amongst crowded landscape outside Railway station. None was ready to go to the place where we lived . Those who agreed asked for exorbitant charges and looked expectant for the moment when we would succumb. As we stood depressed, there came from no where   a rickshaw pulled by a tall  and lanky young man in his late thirtees. Ignoring the hostile looks around him, he offered to take us . He did not bargain and was happy to get  what we thought was reasonable.

 We settled on his rickshaw and  he started pulling  it with all the strength in his frail body . As he jumped up and down on the pedal, we spotted a  patch on the back of his shirt too big to be missed. Impressed by his being reasonable despite being poor ,  we felt for him and wanted to be of some help. We  asked probing questions in Hindi and evoked interesting responses. He replied slowly in Hindi. But, in between when we made some comments about him in English for our own  consumption , he inadvertently  switched over to fluent English to reply to our queries. It was now our turn to jump with shock  on our seats. That  was too much in a day to bear.  By the time we recovered, we were in the compound of our residence. We paid him coins conversing fondly in English which brought our entire family out . They looked at us in surprise  as though we had gone mad They were not wrong . The thought of tragic plight of two wonderful characters that we encountered  was enough to drive us mad with shame and sorrow.    

Moderation :Key To Good Health -Beware of bombardment of Scientific advices

MODERATION : KEY TO GOOD HEALTH

Beware of bombardment of Scientific advices

The ‘Times View ‘/ “Counter View” published in Delhi edition of  ‘The Times of India’ on  16^th April 2011 under the headline ‘Experts revise opinion about dietary cholesterol and eggs’  touches upon a  subject which is vital to our lives and an eye opener for all of us who take scientific advice as the ultimate truth. I am not a scientist and therefore not sure how a scientific research is  undertaken and results obtained . As a layman,  I know only what I have heard : Science is two and two make four . Hence , unlike  studies in non- scientific branches   where conclusions are drawn  from surveys based on  assumptions and probables , scientific   research is not expected to draw conclusions  which are alterable with every fresh research. If that happens , people’ faith  is  shaken , leaving  them confused.  

We live in an era when people are far more conscious and fussy in the matter of  health and  dieting habits  than  our predecessors were , thanks to expanding channels for information dissemination.  Naturally, people, in their efforts to remain healthy, go strictly by the book in the matter of their diets without being aware that the rules of the book keep changing . Once confused , they start relying on hearsay which , in turn, begets a chain of damaging  myths about  what is  a healthy diet and what is harmful, as in the case of latest revision on eggs. The end result could be that they may  render themselves weak and vulnerable to diseases  or suffer obesity by following sedentary lifestyle assuming it to be good for the  health. . 

       

While the  research to ascertain the nutritive value of almost all the edible commodities goes on , it is seldom that we are able to keep track of the latest recommendations about  all the commodities all the time .We thus  go by the popular perceptions about their nutritive features  which  may be  the perpetuation of prevailing trends  based on earlier study that has now been turned upside down by latest research .  Eggs , for instance , used to be considered earlier highly nutritive for healthy people and a tonic for  convalescents.  And then came the scientific research  that  restricted its consumption to only two eggs a week, for,  it contained a high degree of cholesterol, depriving people of even the calcium that it contains.  And , now the latest revised opinion of the experts turns it upside down reducing the  earlier findings to mere myths .

What  happens in such a situation. While  at one point of time  eggs became untouchables, a formidable  source of high cholesterol and, as such, a grave risk of  heart attack , now , after the discovery that they have less cholesterol , added with  common assumption that the white in it is all calcium and hence healthy, there will  be open license to consume them more and more This is a dangerous and hazardous to health..

In my opinion, while Times View rightly emphasizes  that ‘Healthy diet  a must’, Mr Ajay Vaishnav , in his counterview, is not wrong either when he expresses the view ‘Eat as you wish’. In fact , for evolving a sensible approach we have to adopt the finer points of both the views. We should take healthy diet with the best of our knowledge but should not over do it assuming it to be containing nothing but nectar, for our knwldge may not be complete. It may contain harmful elements, howsoever minimal they may be. Taken in moderation,  the intake of harmful remains nominal.     

 I am inclined to agree with Mr Ajay Vaishnav’s view that “ In to days’ world , people are being bombarded with ‘scientific advice’ on their health and food habits . Studies are being produced  a dime a dozen on these issues , making neurotics  of people who would otherwise be healthy naturally. Every now and then, new research comes up  with a fresh set of dietary suggestions, which challenge and dethrone the results of previous studies, there by adding to the general confusion .”  It looks that by advising us to “eat as you wish’’, Mr Vaishnav perhaps pointing to the food habits that may have the least  dependence on scientific advise alone. We should  go by our own menus provided  we eat  in moderation. The age old virtue of moderation in eating habits , seems to be the secret of  good health . This means eating  everything  but in moderation  , so that while its healthy contents are absorbed   by the body , its unhealthy elements can be  easily repulsed  by   the cleaning system of our  body.