Tagged....

This is in response to a tag game that apparently does the rounds on the blog site...so I go along.....
1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATER:

Juno….from a purely human relationships point of view…yeah , decent watch…but if the film’s supposed to have some kind of social message, then I either missed it….or the makers got it horribly wrong.

2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?

Diagnostic Ultrasound by Carol Rumac….but I guess it doesn’t count….among non-technical stuff , I’ve been revising Jared Diamond’s “Why is Sex Fun”….splendid read that explores the evolutionary aspects of human sexuality.

3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?

Chess , of course…bridge better than that (but it aint a board game)….also Cluedo , Scotland Yard , Monopoly and Ludo.

4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?

Sportstar…the only magazine I have read for any length of time and have the patience to complete…in general not a magazine kinda person.

5. FAVORITE SMELLS?

The inside of my 15 year old much battered , moth eaten copy of Lord of the Rings…transports me instantaneously to Middle Earth. That apart….mary jane , old monk , El Paso by Lomani , and the smell of pretty much anything clean and far from the maddening crowd.

6. FAVORITE SOUND?
Of Silence….
…..also bluesy guitaring , baritone crooning and Jack Nicholson speaking .

7. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD?

….god and religion and social customs replacing scientific and logical thought.
….indoctrination of impressionable young children.
....hollow patriotism bieng bandied in your face by people who couldnt care less.
....having to communitcate with people you couldnt care less about in the general course of everyday life.

8. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE?

…..fuck….goddamit.

9. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?

…Not given to fast food in any kind or form….much rather prefer a lazy drink and steak.

10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?

My favourite question….hee haw
Lets see…
Eblis o’ Shaugnessey
Turin Turambar dagnir glauranga
Rand al’Thor
Heathcliff
Sherlock Holmes
…that’s the guys…for a girl…
Death

11. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. "IF I HAD A LOT OF MONEY I'D...?

Lets see…firstly give up Medicine…
Then….open a rock n roll themed café….name it “Stairway to Heaven” or “Wonderful Tonight”….get my own ensemble band…and play the blues and rock n roll on weekends.
Or possibly…..
Buy the Arsenal football club !!!!

12. DO YOU DRIVE FAST?
….when I’m stoned.

13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?

…of course….I also wear…pink polka dotted underpants….watch all the saas-bahu serials (even the reruns)…bunk work to watch Sharukh Khan-Yash Chopra films (or for that matter most bollywood films)……pray to GOD 60 times a day....dance nude in a tub full of ox-blood every full moon night so that HE / SHE / IT does not send me to hell….ANYTHING ELSE????

14. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY?

hmm…inconvenient…mostly.

15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?

…if the childhood dinky cars are discounted ( I had at least 15 of those)…then none yet…fingers crossed…hopefully within the next 2 months.

16. FAVORITE DRINK?

Water….with Old Monk / Bacardi / Smirnoff….soda with single malt scotch….chilled white wine….bloody mary….heady beer on summer afternoons......strong coffee…black tea.


17. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD

.....….learn reading music….master the bass and classical and blues guitaring…..work on my ‘nipped in the bud’ drumming skills.....also….perhaps….write a book !!!!

18. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI?

….I only eat meat.

19. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE?

…pretty irrelevant question…considering I’ve nearly lost all of it.

20. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN.

Jamshedpur…Kolkata….Delhi….Pune….Jalandhar…Lucknow…and…some god-forsaken wilderness in the Kashmir Valley.
( lived in..I’ve equated to…spent more than 30 days in one go)….
…also spent considerable amounts of time in…Ranchi…Bombay…Srinagar.

21. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?

Football….Tennis…F1…Golf….Basketball….Rugby….MotoGP….and cricket when Australia’s playing…..can pretty much watch each and very sport.

22. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU

.….that she’s from Kolkata….likes rock n roll….and doesn’t believe in god (or at least looks like it).

23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?

….I’m scared to look….mostly books…books…..and more books....lying there coz there isnt room in room to display them.

24. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE BORN AS YOURSELF AGAIN?

….I’d much rather be spared the inconvenience of being born at all….to quote…I forgot who….Bertrand Russell..or Douglas Adams…perhaps…. “…considering that I’d been dead for millions of years before I’d been born and had suffered not the slightest bit of inceonvenience from it”.

25. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL?

night owl…and also very early morning…it’s the sun high up on the sky that I dislike.

26. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP?

…neither….dark side of the moon…or better…dark side of the LOON!!!

27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX?

……any place…away from the mad rush if humanity.

28. FAVORITE PIE?

Sheperd’s….

29. FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?

…..all said and done…good ol’ vanilla…better….if its spiked with a dash of rum or khalua.

30. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU TAGGED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST?

...My blog’s pretty much a dead end…I don’t expect anyone to respond.

Dictionary of a Cynic

I was tagged on to this by an unknown lady's blog....and the idea was exceedingly fascinating...hence here goes...an A-Z of all that matters...causes sentiments...passions...smiles and hurts.


A …..is for AFMC….the ol’ girl resplendent after nigh on 60 years….who says the flame has died…so what if there are no bikes for the cadets….so what if they actually attend classes and clinics …so what if they study any other time beyond 30 days preceding a university exam….there’s something imperishable about the air….the walls….the gardens……aahh…..quite simply…the show will go on.

B….is for Baggins…..quite simply the best surname in the real and fictitional world combined. I’m sorry Bilbo , ol’ chap….there was nothing Tookish that made you probe William’s pocket , riddle Gollum in the dark , ‘Attercop’ and ‘Tomnoddy’ the nasty spiders of Mirkwood , and not to mention engage Smaug in banter only hobbits can…it was all Baggins….we loves it…we loves it…we loves it forever!!!!


C…..is for Coffee….of which, I get through 8-10 cups in a day…..of any sort and kind…filter , black or machine brewed.

D…..is for Darwin , Dawkins , Dennett , Diamond…..the scholars who gave , structured and simplified the theory of life for us ….. Evolution....the simplest , most beautiful though abominable yet inescapable truth about everything that exists ..and the way it exists.
Also…for Death…the eternal love of my life…oh to look into those eyes…to hear the sound of her wings
Also…for DNA…..the magic molecule of life.
Also…for Dylan ( Bob)…the greatest poet of the 20th century ( Nobel prize or no)
…wow …in other words….D was simply the most DIFFICULT.

E….is for Einstein…the man who changed the way the world looks….the way it functions…and pretty much brought to a naught all that existed the way it did before his time…….all things are relative…but in human society …he seems destined to remain the only constant.

F….is for Football…the most beautiful game on the planet. A toast (and looking forward to many more) to the lip smacking Premiership / La Liga / Serie A weekends , late Tuesday and Wednesday night UCL fixtures….not to mention the summer Euros and WC’s.
For a long suffering fan like me…here’s hoping…
…Arsenal win a champions league title
…Holland finally win a World Cup
…Christiano Ronaldo and Didier Drogba get banned for life for diving and cheating.
And…
…Sir Alex finally hangs up his boots at Old Trafford.

G…is for god…..to sum it simply in the words of Richard Dawkins….
“……. arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction : jealous and proud of it; a petty unjust unforgiving control freak; a vindictive bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynist, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniac, sado-masochistic, capriciously malevolent bully. Those of us schooled from infancy in his ways become insensitive to his horror.”

H…..is for humans…an absurd species that has lived for barely 50,000 years in the 5 billion year history of life on a tiny planet in the solar system of an insignificant sun, located on the fringes of a rather average sized galaxy amidst infinitesimally larger galaxies , stars , and black holes of the known universe…..yet a species which believes that the entire universe and everything within it along with the laws of physics that govern it , are made solely for the purpose that it could exist.
….to quote from Gaiman… “Ah , humanity ! You never cease to amaze me.”

I…..is for Intelligence…or the utter lack of it….which characterizes….the ‘H’ mentioned above….which is inspite of the best evolutionary efforts of massive calvarial and cerebral development. Yet humans remain , mired in petty hegemonies , entrenched in atavistic unscientific societal norms , and utterly resistant to intellectual and philosophical progress of any kind.

J…is for Jimmy ( Page ) , Jimi ( Hendrix) , John ( Lennon , Bonham , Paul Jones , Fogarty etc etc) , (Mick) Jagger , Janis Joplin ( the only double J) , Joan (Baez) , Jim ( Morrison) , James ( Hetfield)….the eternal imperishable spirits of rock n roll….who enable me to clamber out of bed every bleary morning…sustain me through my most trying and testing moment each noisome day…and soothe and lull me into the arms of Murphy at the end of it.

K….is for Kilroy…the ubiquitous , all-pervading , all knowing , rum guzzling , chain smoking , guitar toting ,Floyd quoting, rascally imp….who incidentally also manages to save human lives by practicing medicine.

L….is for Loyola….13 of the very best years…in the very best school….

“Those were the days my friend,
We thought they’d never end;
We’d sing and dance forever and a day.
We’d live the life we choose,
We’d fight and never loose,
For we were young and sure to have out way.”

M….is for Morpheus….the Sandman…the eponymous hero of Gaiman’s cult work….to his endless bretheren…the Corinthian , the immortal Hob Gadling …and all the rest….
Indeed… what power would even hell have if those that dwelt there dreamt not of heaven.

N…..is for Night……time for rest…for musings…time for the blues….to walk under the enchanted stars….and marvel at the lights of ages gone by.....to sleep…in peace for some…in angst for others…awaiting the arrival of the tyrannical sun.

O…is for Old Monk…the elixir of life….and my steadfast companion…whether it be through the travails of an uncertain final year at MBBS , bone chilling winters of Kashmir , or at the fag end of a weary day’s toil in residency.

P…is for Poetry…..anything…from the nonsensical ‘Man in the Moon’….to the immortal verses of Shelley, Keats and Coleridge.

Q…is for quantum mechanics….and the scarce understood, crazy world of strings, quarks and uncertainty, which blasphemous as it sounds , sets the ball rolling for everything that occurs within the universe…..I’m sorry Mr. Einstein , but if such an entity does exist.…it would appear that god DOES play dice with the universe.

R….is for Rock n Roll….the greatest discovery ( or invention if you like) in the history of human civilization…..the language of rebellion….of angst…..of sarcasm…of passion….of romance !!!!

S…is for Schumacher.... In memory of those glorious sunday evenings where the master would make a mockery of the rest of the field. 2 years on ,the sport is not the same…will never be again. A lifetime of my earnings to see one final ‘Schumi-Leap’ atop the victory podium.

T…is for Tolkien…for giving me Middle-Earth…my home away from home for the best part of the past 15 years….for giving me Felagund and Frodo….Aragorn and Aldarion…...Luthien and Arwen…Gondolin and Gondor….for making me weep , rejoice , bleed , feast , sing and philosophise over the countless revisions of the tales from the 3 ages. “Let us at last praise the colonizers of dreams.”

U…is for Us….us..us....and them...them...them
......and after all , we're only ordinary men!!!

V…is for Valhalla…and the childhood tales…..of feasting gods , bloodstained battles , rainbow bridges….the Thunderer , the All-Father and the glorious legions in their train.

W…is for Warne. ...For every bamboozling leg break , googly , flipper, zooter and have what you may that made him the best ever to ply the glorious art of spin. Just sit back and cast your mind back to the moments of magic….Mike Gatting, Basit Ali , Daryl Cullinan, Andrew Strauss…thanks for the memories, Shane!


X…is for X-rays…the mysterious discovery of Wilhelm Roentgen…that revolutionized medical science ….in whose company I am destined to spend the rest of my attenuated life.

Y…..is for Yesterday…in the fond memories of which, we while away our precious todays.

Z…is for Zeppelin.... In the world of rock n roll…first there is Led Zep…..then there’s daylight……..for the most haunting compositions , the most monstrous guitar riffs , the most outrageously orgasmic crooning , and sheer death defying , hell raising, earth shaking drumming……unquestionably the gilded stairway to rock n roll heaven.

'Spit' - Fire

An sms from Puneet at his ‘phlegmatic’ best . I just had to put it down.

Had we Indians discovered some economically productive use for human saliva , we would have been the richest country in the world. I am at the railway station and amusing myself with the amazing potential Indians have to ‘spit’ - all colours and amazing maneuvers. Unfortunately, the only thing most can produce in sputum is AFB

AFB – acid fast bacillus….syn – Mycobacterium tuberculosis (the tubercle bacillus).

INSOMNIA

Tossing and turning, and
rendering drenching wet,
The pillows and sheets with midnight sweat.
Though waking terrors
Plague the mind,
Easier to bear, and far
Less fearful, you find;
Than ghoulish figures that in your dreams are met.

The unsleeping pupil, dark and glazed, as if belladonna stained;
The restless heart, galloping, like some jungle beast untamed.
The mouth bathed and soured
By the ever rising, burning bile,
While the mind walks , ceaseless
Amidst some distant defile.
In such catatonia, you pray in fervour, for the night to wane.

Some moonstruck lover, bemoaning in sighs, his mistress cold,
Or cancerous crone, in writhing pain, yet vainly clutching the mortal fold.
The fallen lord, who lately
Hope in the bottle hath sought.
Or the uneasy, uncertain crown,
In the throes of unwilling battle, caught.
All lie in angst, and in the gloom, their uneasy sorrows mould.

The frenzied brain , glowing bright, in unimaginable hues,
Like artist in desperation, seeking his long forgotten muse.
Gates are opened ,
And instantaneously shut;
While teeming multitudes,
In senseless hunt
Ungirt the mind, and ‘mong the nightly demons, set it loose.

The body is drugged, the senses numbed, yet sleep remains,
As distant, as bright sunlight , from stygian plains.
Then the first gleam
Of a hopeless dawn,
Plunges deeper, the
Unrelenting , insomniac thorn;
From the limb and soul, all semblance, of life blood drains.

Have you ever seen the rain

“I am a brain , Watson. Everything else about me is vestigial and serves only to feed my brain.” – the incomparable Sherlock Holmes

Oh to be Holmes : to dwell in the uninhibited ecstasy of the glorious intellect , to be rid forever of that mansbane passion called emotion, to bind the truant heart in bonds of cold hard, logic and unemotive , calculated reason.
On a time , not so long ago , you deemed humans of all manner miserable : intellectually retarded and emotionally wretched. Yet , you could never stave the ‘human’ yoke off yourself. For all your chest thumping claims of misanthropy , your roots remained firmly entrenched within the same emotions you so loathed. Into every hurdle life had perchance strewn across your path , you stumbled haplessly ; and emerged irrevocably scarred yet none the wiser. Thereupon , true to your kind, you took to chiding life , the people and all else around you that the warped mind could conceptualise.

Yesterday, and days before, The sun is cold and rain is hard,I know; been that way for all my time.Till forever, on it goes,
Through the circle, fast and slow,I know; it cant stop, I wonder

Yet it never occurred to you that mayhap there was nothing wrong with the paths that you trod , or those that strode alongside you. Perhaps those paths were never meant for you. Since the time you held converse with your own reason , the one thing that struck you was how your paths always seemed sundered from those around you. Be it the family, friends or the ‘so called gods’ , your lot has always been aboard the ‘lonesome train’.
It is something you were always at peace with , indeed something you were proud off.
Ever the calvin-child , enconsed comfortably in the flights of your limitless fantasy.
Why then should you seek for the fruits that await the end of the journey more often undertaken , when you have it not within you to bear the toil or the briars on the road. When the landscape seems irksome to you , why do you expect a restful bed at the eve.
Matters of the primitive limbic centres were never meant for you. Your cortex has served you well till now, and will be with you when aught else has deserted and fled. Holmes is more fitting to your kind , not even the hewer of the caves and certainly not the one-handed vagabond.
So , my boy…keep your reason to yourself , let the mind do the thinking . The other organ was never the strongest part of you in any case , horribly fickle and disastrously treacherous. Bind it hard and true and heed not its poisoned whispers and you shall do well.

The Gentlemen of the Game

So , you have it all over again. The loudmouths crying out loud, whatever happened to the gentleman’s game. Racism and sledging, gamesmanship and poor spirit – Sydney provided us with dollops of one of the more unsavoury moments of the glorious history of the sport. The mind immediately casts back to none other than the Battle of Adelaide , 1932, the third test of the infamous bodyline series , more appropriately nicknamed ‘The Ugliest Test’. The tales which came out from there have endured into cricketing folklore…notably Jardine’s “Well bowled , Harold” after Larwood struck his opposite captain Bill Woodfull over the heart….and not to forget Woodfull’s retort to the English Manager , Sir Pelham Warner , “There are 2 teams out there on the field , one is playing cricket and the other isn’t”.
Many other instances come to the mind , where ugliness overtook spirit and victory was deemed as important than honour itself. However I prefer to think of the glorious instances ( by far the more superior in terms of sheer numbers) where cricket appropriately earned itself the sobriquet of being a gentleman’s game.
What better way to start than from the bodyline series itself. For all of the animosity Jardine’s troops faced, 2 englishmen stood out for their steadfastness and commitment to the honour of the sport. Iftikar Ali Khan Pataudi , who after scoring a century in the first test, took ship back home midway through the series, so disappointed was he in his captain’s battle plan; and Gubby Allen, the English fast bowler who refused to bowl bodyline throughout the series and such was the force of his character that even the indomitable Jardine could not drop him to a drinks man.
How about Gary Sobers winning the toss against Ajit Wadekar, and conceding the same to the latter who claimed to have won it himself , without even hinting at a re-toss…that too one-nil down in the series , if you please. Gundappa Vishwanath’s recalling of a dismissed Bob Taylor at the jubilee test in Bombay is part of folklore, as is Courtney Walsh’s refusing to run out Salim Jaffer in the last over of the world cup match in 1986…..which resulted in a loss for the Windies and their being bundled out of the tournament.

The ever-ready modern day doomsday predictors just need reminding themselves of one of the most poignant scenes in recent cricketing history. Andrew Flintoff dismissing Micheal Kasprowicz to win the 2nd ashes test of the 2005 series and helping England draw level at the expense of Brett Lee’s heroic rearguard resistance. While the rest of the poms were going cock a hoop on the field , Freddie’s first reaction was to turn and put his arm around a disconsolate Lee down on his haunches. Such are the sights that still make the eyes brim over on a sports field.

Innumerable other instances come to mind of the true gentlemen of the game…Victor Trumper scoring a double century with a bat offered to him by an expectant young fan (just for the record, the shoulder of the bat broke when he was on 90 , but Victor refused a replacement).
However the story that is closest to my heart is one from the legendary English batsman Jack Hobbs. Having been clearly bowled but ruled not out as the umpire was unsighted and unsure whether the ball had rebounded of the keeper’s gloves , the dismay of the fielding team was palpable (who can blame them , when Hobbs was batting). A completely mystified Hobbs (such was his concentration that he was totally ignorant of the events around him) turned around and enquired politely of the keeper , “Pray , what’s the fuss all about?”. The keeper in all his modesty replied to the great man, “You’ve just been bowled sir, but the umpire hasn’t given you out.”
“In that case,” replied Hobbs , in a typically unplussed manner , “I guess I had better be going” and casually as ever, walked back to the pavilion.
….ah, we survived Bodyline ….Sydney is a mere blimp on the surface…but the game belongs to the Trumpers and the Hobbs’ and the Vishwanaths. Just for the record, the gentlemen never ever vacated the building.

Mandatory Rural Service - a Conundrum

A lot of furore has been created over the health ministry’s proposal to make a year’s rural service mandatory , post internship for the award of the MBBS degree. Understandably so , many might say – yet in spite of much introspection and soul searching , I have personally not been able to decide which way to put my weight . Claims on both sides have some iron clad points in favour of them. The solutions are not that simple , as the roots go deeper than most people realize , or if they do realize , then do not like to get their hands messy probing into such depth.
As a young medico , who has witnessed the struggles of the system , I still get more than the odd pang of guilt at the overwhelming shambles in which the health care setup of the country lies (yeah ! yeah ! Call me humbug !) . Lets examine in detail both sides of the coin and then attempt to offer possible solutions.

THE HEALTH SETUP & MAGNITUDE OF THE PROBLEM

At the outset let us examine the care setup in the country – to state that it is pitiful would an understatement. Why this should be so in spite of 60 years of democracy and , as we would be led to believe , a booming economy , is beyond the scope of this discussion. Dedicated volumes could be written on the same. Let it suffice for the moment that the population is bursting at the seams , basic sanitation is conspicuous by its absence , and the captains of the men of death – the likes of Messers Tuberculosis and Malaria are remarshalling their forces with hitherto unseen hostility. Add to it India’s overwhelming participation in the propagation of global pandemics like HIV and infectious hepatitis. There is a shocking absence of basic obstetric care with unacceptable rates of maternal and infant mortality even in the urban centers. The brunt of this is borne in the rural areas, from where, a sizeable number of figures do not even reach the health statistician’s desk.
The infrastructure in the primary health setup is grossly inadequate with the staff lacking proper training and experience. Feeding off this lack in trained health care personnel and the prevalent socio-cultural superstitions and taboos , quacks abound in multitudes and indulge in downright barbaric criminal practices. Back in undergraduate days , our professors would come up with tales witnessed by them in the rural setup such as administration of intravenous milk , use of sharpened metallic objects as abortifacients and so on. Is there anything to suggest that such practices are still not prevalent in today’s day and age.
It goes without saying that the 2 prime requirements of the rural health setup are trained personnel and optimal infrastructure. A trained medical officer is the natural leader of such a system. Presently the number of doctors in the primary health system are markedly deficient and hence the attempted move to make rural service compulsory for all doctors. It is logical that the fresh crop of doctors should be the ones to attempt to bridge the gulf between the rural and urban health setup. Ideally they would be the ones to initiate some kind of scientific and ethical protocol to combat the terrifying practices that are prevalent. At the very least , sanitary conduct of labour , recognition and management of major emergencies, basic environmental hygiene , family planning , reproductive and child health should form part of the charter of responsibilities of the medical officer.

So as myopic as ever , we pass the legislation to make a year’s rural service mandatory and then sit back and give ourselves a congratulatory pat. Before even starting with the case of the doctors , the move will not achieve anything significant simply because of the sheer lack of infrastructure. Our rural centres lack basic amenities such as oxygen cylinders, emergency drugs like adrenaline and atropine , iv fluids and ambulance facilities for urgent referral to higher centres….the list is simply endless. You put 5 doctors per PHC and they will not be able to make any difference with the existing infrastructure.


DOCTORS – FORCED HUMANITARIANS ?

Let us now consider the case of the students and the young doctors. The problem is quite simple here – as the present scenario stands , the best a medico can do post schooling is 5 ½ yrs for MBBS plus 3 yrs of PG , equaling a minimum of 9 years till the completion of post graduation, which in today’s setup is absolutely imperative for any decent employment with some sort of permanence. However , even this arithmetic is for the select few , what with many colleges and universities still exceeding the basic 5 ½ year stipulated period for the completion of the MBBS curriculum. As for PG, it is either the exceptionally brilliant ,or the monetarily privileged who are able to secure a seat in the first attempt , with most students requiring at least 2 attempts and many going on to 3 or more.
So you have a young doctor , typically from a middle class Indian family , nearly 30 till he/she is sufficiently able to sustain himself independently. Just imagine – nigh on 10 to 12 years of dependence on the family post schooling. Most of us would cringe at the thought of the same , especially with the booming corporate and IT sectors which provide lucrative incomes at much younger ages. For all that has been written about the BPO industry, the fact remains that it offers quick money, easily the biggest drawing card for the modern youth. Already school going children are shying away from pursuing medicine as a career. The reasons for the same are the ones I have just named – too long a time to get settled coupled with inadequate financial remuneration. If such a thing did exist upon a time , the so called nobility of the profession and work for a ‘social cause’ is perhaps the last thing the macroscopic majority of students look for in a prospective career. I am not trying to be judgmental here as everyone is completely free to choose a career as per their priorities in life. However the fact remains that there is a steady decline in the quality of the students entering medicine , ironically the one branch where basic intelligence and quality should not be compromised.
In the midst of all this , the mandatory clause for rural service has implications deeper than simply 365 days of physical service. The frenetic pace at which medical science moves has given a new dimension to the age old method of studying . The internet now forms an integral part of the same along with the revered monstrous textbooks. With the ever increasing trend of postgraduate medical exams being centered around molecular biology , genetics and receptor mechanisms coupled with numerous online coaching services and preparatory exams – the one year hiatus would just widen the gulf in front of the student to secure that elusive PG seat. In addition it would spell the virtual death knell for the sizeable amount that have their eyes fixed on foreign universities for their post graduation. Sitting in a primary health care centre in some far flung corner of the country is hardly the ideal way to prepare for USMLE.

SOLUTIONS ???

Well , I have no idea whatsoever else perhaps I would never be asking so many questions. As I have mentioned earlier , the roots are much deeper than we care to admit , and embedded firmly in the age old socio-cultural norms that shall forever prove the nemesis of the country. Merely posting a large number of doctors to rural centres is hardly the answer to cope with the health care problem of a country with a sixth of the world’s total population , and yet spending less than 3% of its GDP on health services. It is only an ad hoc measure akin to reservations for the backward classes. The basic issues of education of the masses , population control , environmental sanitation are the ones to be tackled , and unfortunately the government happily chooses to play the ostrich when confronted by these issues , by burying its head in the ground.
On a different level, perhaps we might look to revamp the entire system of medical education in India , amalgamating post graduate and undergraduate training, similar to the system followed in the US.
It is tempting to say that doctors should be paid better for their government services but as ever this idea is laughable. The salaries proffered by the government health services are a poor joke when compared to the dividends reaped in the private sector.
Can we perhaps privatize the health sector in some manner , if not anything else , at least operationally while the policy making can still be done at the government level. There would be many hindrances here which I’m not aware of and will require the likes of my economist friend Shyam to enlighten us. The one thing I am sure of is that though the cost it will incur would not be acceptable to the powers that be, it will at the very least ensure better cost-effectiveness and cost benefit.

For the moment I end here . Further ideas might be forthcoming on hearing views to the questions I have put forth.

England , blessed England !!!

In fond memory of English Football, which died , on this, the 21st day of November, 2007. Deeply mourned by a large circle of faithful friends and followers. The body will be cremated and the ashes taken to….???? Zagreb?

Well, surely even Fred ‘The Demon’ Spofforths’ bowling out of England for 70 odd at the Oval, 1882 , to secure the first ever test win for Australia on English soil could not have been more dramatic for the purist and the neutral observer , or more heartbreaking for the endlessly ceaselessly suffering English sports fan.
Just when you thought, post world cup , that English Football , with all the alleged talent, and undoubted wealth at their disposal couldn’t stoop lower , Steve McLaren and his motley crew came up with the most unbelievable, comical and downright ridiculous qualifying campaign culminating in the bewilderingly disastrous final match in a soaked drenched Wembley.
Wherefore did all the gladiators of the so called ‘best football league in the world’ vanish….your Lampards, Gerrards, ….and …who else ????
With Owen , Rooney , and Terry out injured and Rio Ferdinand out suspended…all of a sudden the real star names in the English starting lineup had dwindled to a mere 2 individuals, and that too, ones who had repeatedly been found wanting on the international stage in a real pot-boiler crunch scenario. Add to that the venerable McLaren’s repeated refusal to start with David Beckham…..
…agreed, the man can’t run fast…can’t kick with his left foot , can’t dribble , can’t head, can’t defend, has a tendency to get sent off….but he still is a better player than the likes of the Shaun Wright Philipses, Gareth Barrys , and Michael Carricks of this world.
One just has to consider statistics and look into history to consider Beckham’s importance to the national squad , in which over the past 10 yrs only the redoubtable and all too sadly, forever injured , Michael Owen merits a name ahead of him in the teams more memorable moments…be it the legendary 5-1 victory at Munich , the 1-0 over Argentina in the 02’ WC, or the 90th minute free kick against Greece at Old Trafford.
With Crouch as your lead striker, surely it made sense to have your best crosser of the ball on the field for the full 90 minutes….just ask Rudd van Nistelrooy , the number of goals he was handed on a platter by Beckham’s deliveries in Man U and Real Madrid colours.
The defense without Terry and Ferdinand was a shamble. I might have expected England to lose but concede 3 goals at Wembley -- utter blasphemy. As for the goalkeepers throughout the campaign – the only thing I need say is Scot Carson kept up the glorious tradition of English goalkeepers of the best part of the past 20 yrs in producing howlers in a really tight place….just think back to David Seaman watching a Ronaldinho floater sail over his head…or ‘Calamity’ James caught wrong footed on Zidane’s free kick….or Robinson kicking out at thin air in the qualifying encounter in Croatia. It is astonishing to think that in all these years since Peter Shilton, England haven’t been able to produce a single decent and reliable goalkeeper…..how often would you see the like of Buffon, Casillas or Van der Sar produce howlers like these?
So where does English football go from here…..upwards is the only way…cause this really is rock bottom, having failed to qualify from one of the easier groups. One just hopes that the talismanic Owen retains and maintains fitness at least for 2 -3 seasons at a stretch , for his influence on the team is beyond compare. Rooney , thus far hasn’t produced the best in the 3 Lions shirt , but he is , on form and talent , by far the best striker in all the country….
…and the million dollar question after McLaren who’ll sip out of the poisoned chalice….for all of the Jose chants, I scarce think Mr Mourinho will go for it. At the moment Fabio Capello seems the best bet , and it might not be a bad idea. The Italian work ethos might just be what’s needed to knock sense into the underachieving so-called English superstars.
…and for the English sports fans….at least Johnny Wilkinson gave you something to smile at over the summer….now sit back and wait till Ricky Ponting’s men tour next.

....to the blessed perpetrators of pyromania

Its that festival time…..the time of the year people get orgasms at willie-nilly little nothings…total strangers who otherwise would never glance at you, come around wishing you ‘happy diwali’….making you guffaw in the inside on such iron clad memes rampant in the society. The pyromaniacs of society test out their vestibulo-cochlear reserve to the maximum, leaving in their wake a haze of murky smoke and choked lungs ….
….but you do not mind, after all, you get the whole day off , to do exactly as you please….its one of the few times when people don’t bother you on a holiday…amazingly, for the first time, in quite a while you are actually cheerful ..…what could be better, Friday holiday…Saturday half day…Sunday holiday….even more astonishingly , people seem to stop falling sick on these festivals as well, or perhaps their ‘gods’ postpone it till after the festivities are over…the next week’s gonna be chaotic in the hospital….but who looks that far in advance….maybe, just maybe….you mightn’t even survive to see the next week (now, now there…I know it’s the season of optimism….but lets not get carried away, shall we!).
Way to go….. deluded humanity….may you be blessed with more gods…one for each day of the year, if I have my way.…and may your gods continue forever to bless heretics like me , at your dear expense.

People are crazy and the times are strange,
I'm locked in tight,
I'm out of range,
I used to care, but....
Things have changed !!!

to Purpose....or the lack of it !

48 hrs , tossing and turning amidst unquiet dreams and visions . The mind drugged by anti-histaminics and codeine based cough elixirs ; dulled yet receptive….searingly and painfully so, to a plethora of stimuli , of ever changing hues and shades that in an instant blind the eye . For the umpteenth time, in 48 hrs you resolve to read , you open your Sutton…before you comprehend, you find an hour, maybe more (in your state, time holds no meaning) has elapsed. Aghast you stare into the beleaguered text to find pencil streaks covering nigh 10 pages….yet you struggle to recollect a word that was written…and hence , for the umpteenth time , in the same 48 hrs , the book slams shut and you take to your bed.
You stare at the ceiling…..stare at the arachnid weave her traps , unmindful of all else save her next prey , her next mate….and her next offspring. What cares she of aught that goes on in the world . Is she really that different from you and bedraggled mass of delusional species that you call humans. Lying beside you, the 3 most unlikely bedfellows at the first glance…
…..3 volumes of Sandman - Heavens ! they should have banned these long ago , just like they should have done away with cannabis , acid, coke.
….Tolkien , of course. Can you imagine lying 48 hrs in bed and not reading a word of the maestro.
…and finally, and probably unusually, Dawkins’ ‘Selfish Gene’ (we shall see why, though)
….and flipping occasionally through these, you begin to think…..


…………it is all about the Purpose…purpose drives all to each and every end…without purpose, life as we know and define, it would cease to exist. However , you find in the whole thing a ridiculous oxymoron. If Darwin, Dawkins, Dennet and the likes are correct, as you do not doubt they are, then the whole gamut of evolution is purposeless. Things are what they are , simply cause that’s how the prevailing selection pressures over billions of years, moulded them. You , have no more purpose , than the stupid virus which infects you at the present moment, clogging your sinuses and nose.

The city folk had killed the cats and dogs because they might have helped spread the disease. Lacking the power , they imprisoned each other in their houses on the first suspicion of the disease. A rough red cross was painted upon the door, written on a paper the words – LORD HAVE MERCY UPON US.
The door was then sealed and a watchman placed outside , until all in there had been untouched by the disease for 40 days, or were dead.
She heard screams of 2 children high in an attic room, their parents long dead. A newborn baby suckled the milk, and the plague, from a cold breast....on the empty street , a corpse lay , waiting for the cart to take it to the plague pit.
……Despair walked the streets of London in 1665, the Plague year and she still stalks you. Her eyes look at you behind every mirror and sooner or later her hook will find your heart.

….you jump centuries , to a more familiar landscape…..


Plush offices and lounges , exquisite carpentry, tapestries of the finest (not to mention expensive) sort, spas, masseurs, billiards and bridge, golf and croquet. Ladies in their Sunday best sitting by the pool, the shimmering of the water in the glorious afternoon matched only by the dazzling jewels adorning the wonderful women, sipping tea and nibbling dainties .....outside, barely a stone’s throw away from this haven of luxury, in the streets a grubby little child carries a mangled, flea bitten monkey. Her mightily misplaced efforts at some kind of animal acrobatics at the traffic signal do not go wholly in vain. A few sympathetic coins are flung her way. He woos her with passion, fervour and relentless persuasion but he cannot understand her denial. She loves him, he can tell all too well…yet she keeps him at arms length. Not one furtive touch , not a single forbidden kiss, she waits….for the desire to channel to something more sublime….and then they make love, like flames…opening blending , burning…they make love like animals, like gods…………..

…and midst these scenes , walks a man….or one such being. There is something dainty in the fingers, but it is the eyes that enamour you, for they are golden like a cat’s. You are all marked as mine , he says, veritable honey on the forked tongue. You would fain ask , “ what dost thou desire?”.
“Everything, what else is there to desire. After all , being happy, and getting what you want are 2 quite different things. If you have nothing left to want, then you just wait until there’s nothing left to wait for.”
…the eyes glow ever brighter, like a forest fire.

…and so are all are lives wrought. Born into the rabble of desire and despair, dreaming often, delighting less often…and finally at death , being put out of our miserable existence. Some die at birth , some at 10, some at 100…..but each one has lived the same
, each of us have the same amount of time handed to us ….a lifetime…nothing less , nothing more….and in this lifetime, we forever struggle for our purpose , to justify our existence…and like as not, carry the questions securely into our graves.

All the talk of changing the world , healing its woes, making it a better place to live in , seem quite hollow to you…..even were it well meant, which in most cases it is not. But even if it were all well meant , and all perfectly executed…and sickness and famine were banished from human realms , no greed , no hunger, no wars, no genocides…..would that change anything. Would our desires be achieved, would we be free from want, would we forever escape the hook of despair….ha!

Suffer on , Humanity…. Be thou comforted in thy delusions of grandeur. For my part , I shall await, patiently, to look into her eyes, one final time.

Cupid Rejected

One of my old works....alomost 6 yrs to the date.

O, poet divine, thou bard of the albatross,
Who long days at the whiles of ope’ hath spent.
Think thou thy misery hath gall’d thee more ,
Than that which fortune to me hath lent.
Thou spoke of pain
And fiendish sights,
And viper thoughts
On moonlit nights.
Of rot of mind,
Decay of will;
But hear me out,
Thou hadst with thee,
A love of life
Loth to depart,
Plighted troth
To thy soul and heart.
Though never met,
Ever with thee,
Like oil on waters
Of a troubled sea.

When barb’d with gold, the white feathered dart,
Sped from the bow of yon rascal, blind boy
Of Venus, pierced more than this unfortunate heart,
It bled the soul , eclipsed all its joy.
Thou maiden fair, chaste as Luna’s silver rain,
Thy lips as honeydew on coral spill’d;
Those dark cascades tumbling in their perfumed train,
Madam, do not now disown, whom thine eyes have killed.
Would that we could depart together, depart far from civility,
To the rustic hills, the lazy brooks, the ripening heather,
To the bliss of noontide, the verdant greenery,
In some forsaken nook, dream in peace, in our arms together.
Hand in hand, arm in arm, we’d walk in the unnamed woods,
There under canopied shade , I’d nestle ‘mongst thy tresses,
Astride mirth itself, we’d mock Apollo, “Mar us if you could”,
Myself as Orion, would then woo thee, my virgin huntress.

Wherefore I lie now, on accursed Hela’s shores,
Darkness cloaks me, shrieks out in voices fell.
Stricken by grief and torment beyond portend,
O, that I never heard of thee to name or thy deeds to tell.
The thunderer
Mighty Mjoll has hurled,
The mountains tremble
And the stranger world,
Shrinks to a formless
Shapeless grey,
And evil shapes
On the mind now prey.
No human touch
Or piteous eye,
No light or hope
Do I descry;
The eagle descends
Now every eve,
Promethean pain
Is my lot to grieve.
Evenstar of my heart, now cleave to me,
Shut thine eyes an instant, wipe away the mirage.
Love greater than man’s wont , shall I bestow on thee,
Hence, beneath yon silver girt maiden, tonight, let our souls merge.
I stand now, knocking on heaven’s door,
Below, hell fires are lit, the legions of Satan await;
Stretch out thy hand, pull me onto the everlasting shore,
Else everlasting darkness shall be my fate.


In such hour of doom, do the heavens part,
Purple plumed and mantle of silver white;
A rider fair of form doth now appear,
With helm of gold and eyes Valinorean light.
“Come my liege
Shake of thy shroud.”
The blessed one
To me cried loud;
“What lacks thee ever
In wit or grace,
That should become
Such an ashen face.
Fie on thee,
If now thou will
For darkling tresses
Mighty oceans spill.
Hearken ever,
To thy mind not heart
And find thy brooding
Gloom depart.”


He spoke to me, words fair of form
Of wisdom ,enchantment, wizardry.
“Be warned, the greatest, of Man’s banes
Shall ever be a lover’s treachery.
Turn now hence
To the amorous realms
Of fleeting winds,
And leaping streams.
The burden’d boughs
And cooling mists
Shall serve thee better
Than thy aimless tryst.
Look on the glory
Of fair Ithil
From the living rock
Of Zirak -Zigil.
Seek for learning
Or bliss in art,
A mighty sword,
An enduring heart.”


The night is old, my messiah gone,
Like to the west wind, keen of breath;
He scattered the clouds, memory remains,
Of the disfigured dreams like an impotent wraith.
Hear me now
All ye men of worth,
Who in like pursuits
Have lost wit and mirth.
Lie fettered not
In unseen bonds,
But cast a glance
To the world beyond.
Earn wisdom, fame
And great renown,
Not despair under
The bejeweled crown.
Hearken to Athena
And Apollo now,
Dismiss Cupid
And his treacherous bow.

Harry Lives.....

So, Harry Potter survives after all. The Boy who Lived, comes through in the end , against all the odds, vanquishing the dreaded Dark Lord, winning his lady love and settling down to a long and peaceful life dedicated to rearing kids, apparating between a 8 to 5 job , growing tubers in his garden on weekends perhaps….all in all, comfortable in the security of relative oblivion, with his family, friends, and memories of his heroic deeds . All this at the cost of a few, probably disposable, friends and allies ( possibly to keep a somber mood).
Isn’t that what everyone wanted…hordes of youngsters, adults, and greybeards alike had been pleading with Ms Rowling for the best part of 2 years, yearning for that ‘lived happily ever after….good conquering evil- love conquering hate’ ending. So are we satisfied? The majority , I do not doubt are, including the redoubtable author, to whom, if for nothing else, I doff my hat yet again for a brilliant narration and some genuinely fantastic creativity. The book , no doubt, will beat all previous collections by some margin, especially now that the people have been given the ending that they evidently craved.
Ah, but after all the hullaballo ,how so incredibly human and predictable a finale. Would children world over, have been able to sleep at night if it was Harry who had come out worse in the final struggle with his evil nemesis. What comfort would the people trapped in this misenchanted isle of daydreams called humanity have found if for once ‘good’ had failed to prevail over ‘evil’. What answers would Rowling have provided her legions of fans if , as Dumbledore called it , if Harry’s greatest weapon, his power to love, had come up miserably short against the malice of Voldemort.
For me Rowling had in her hands, the veritable chalice to creative immortality of a kind scarce attained , if she’d chosen to end her tale in a kind of equilibrium more suited to reality. Most of her characters were either too black or white , and the amount of white left unscathed at the end , made the whole scenario so bright, it hurt the eyes. Ah, for an ending like Tolkien’s masterpiece - “The Silmarillion”, which I consider , philosophically if not creatively (The Lord of the Rings has to come first in that regard) the most defining in the entirety of creative fantasy. Even the LotR, for its seemingly glorious finale, conveys a more than subtle gloom the very end to those who could discern it, in the form of the final waning of the firstborn in Middle-earth and the passing of the last remnants of the Eldar over the sea.
Without a doubt, as the years have numbered , the sheer mystique of literary characters has lessened considerably. Is it merely the power of the market that makes otherwise endowed authors mellow their characters and creations, or is it a tedious change into the well trodden path of memetic humanoid ‘values and social systems’. Can we possibly dream of a modern day Heathcliff, for me, the most fascinating character in all Literature, or say a Hamlet, a Dorian Gray …or even a Holmes ,with his single mindedly calculated and wonderfully unemotive persona.
Oh, for a tale akin to Orwell’s chilling 1984 or the equally memorable tale of Atticus Finch and his children.
Why do we so ardently seek escape in the form of perfection as envisaged by our culturally branded philosophies of good and bad….is it because reality has little, if anything to offer, at all ? Or perhaps, we are cocooned so securely and irrevocably in our little shells built built right from the times of childhood cathecism, that anything to the contrary seems well nigh unthinkable and outrageously blasphemous.
Is there one out there, to give us a welcome throwback to the days of old…the days when Charlotte Bronte remarked of her own sister’s creation… “I scarce think it is wise to create a character like Heathcliff…”, is there one to challenge the incumbent orthodoxy that humanity so comfortably seems to have slipped in….for me, in the present day, Gaiman with his wonderfully subdued hero Morpheus, is the only one who perwades beyond the tried and tested regimens of human acceptance…..Robert Jordan too seemed a likely contender, but he has let the narration meander far too long ; still it will be interesting to see what he has in store for Ran al’Thor and the rest of the cast of “The Wheel of Time”
……as for Potter, wishing him the best of a human life.

Dreams

The misty gloom at the fall of eve,
May serve to heal , and sever, from its wounded core;
The restless mind, and lend it wings,
Bid it speed to yonder surreal shore.
To rest awhile on fair starlit sward,
Sound the hunt in untamed beech and oak.
Scale the ancient snowy peaks,
Kingly clad in pearly moonlit cloak.
Or mayhap if thou glory seeks,
To fall or fell in the fields of death;
Which shall recount for ages hence,
The deeds of valour in one enamoured breath.
Walk in awe the enchanted streets,
‘Mongst heady fumes of incense divine,
Where bards create ecstatic harmonies,
Whence the maidens dance , and their lovers pine.
Hold converse with sages wise
On life and death and the unseen beyond.
Watch the forgotten tales, brought back
To life, with a wave of some enchanted wand.
Meetings aplenty in the Elysian fields,
With enlightened faces, burden free.
Soon perhaps your day might come,
To cross the river at the anointed fee.

Farewell to Pain

The American National Conference on Pain describes it as having 2 components, one purely sensory and the other being an emotional or affective component. Morphine, the drug of kings, is still one of the most potent drugs available to man for the relief of pain. Morphine selectively acts on the sub-cortical pain perception areas of the brain and abolishes the emotional/affective component of pain such that the patient feels a strange alien sensation from the periphery but it causes him no discomfort

The mind is a strange creature. It is forever at conflict – against the body, against its own self, against others of its ilk ,and against all known norms of the so called civilized society. They say it is this property of the mind that sets humans apart from all other forms of life. The ability to think , to reason and equally , if not more importantly, to feel. Feelings, not simply subjective sensations of touch, temperature or pain which have been scribbled age long in the books, but the capacity to harbour emotions, to love , to feel pity and mercy.
Since as far back as you can recall, they began cathecising you . They taught you good and evil – dividing them by boundaries you have struggled to see even to the latest day. Then they taught you to love – your parents, your family, your friends, your country and countrymen, and above all , to love ‘God’. “Why ?” You would fain question but the reply comes swift and stern , “Hush child! You must do so because we all do, because so we are told, because so it is written in the great books and chronicled by the wise – whose wisdom and authority we have no business to question.” Later when you grow up, you hear and read of a heretic named Darwin who suggests something rather absurd -
That chaos gives rise to order , that all creation and life is mere chance – and that every succeeding generation is more suited for survival and consequently more smarter than the previous. They laugh at you, “ What a preposterous and vulgar suggestion. Man was made God in His own form.” They tell you when to laugh and when to cry , of the times when you should hurt and the times when you should be happy.
However all the teachings come to naught. You stand a bystander on the brink of battle, amidst countless slain; your feet splashing in pools of blood and squashing beneath them mangled human limbs and organs. A voice within tells you that you should cry, that you should feel pain….but try as you might, the voice is alien and you cannot obey! Sooner might the thinking brain command the infracted and failing heart – “Beat ! For so I command you.”
When have the cognitive centers of the mind ever commanded the subtle, brilliantly varied and scarce understood primitive centers – of pain and emotion…of sleep and procreation. Your age old teaching struggles manfully, screaming at that ill-gotten perverted seat of pain… “Make him weep!”…but all that ever happens is the endorphins, those natural brethren molecules to morphine in the brain, simply propound. You sense there is something amiss – with you , your mind or your world – but it scarce bothers you, no more than a gnat from the marshes bothers an iron scaled dragon of many battles.
You are not euphoric…indeed far from it, simply indifferent; not autistic…oh, no- simply weltschmerz.
Your once loved ones depart your world…you put on a façade of grief but it matters little to you. They murmur against you in whispered voices…. “Heartless, that’s what he is .” But those voices are drowned by the ones that surge within you , coming from you very soul…..you descry what it says…like to a verse you heard upon a different time….it is after all a voice of the endless…of a king of sorts.


If you open your mind for me
You won't rely on open eyes to see
The walls you built within
Come tumbling down,
And a new world will begin.
Living twice at once you learn
You're safe from the pain
In the dream domain
A soul set free to fly
A round trip journey in your head
Master of illusion, can you realize
Your dream's alive, you can be the guide but...

I- will be watching over you
I- am gonna help to see it through
I- will protect you in the night
I- am smiling next to you....
In silent lucidity.

Shadows and Chains

The shadows of the twilight realm criss-cross through the waking world. You find yourself walking strange, nameless paths : under canopied forests, floors of which have not known light for ages unrecounted ; struggling over pine clad mountain slopes, slipping on the verglass, drinking from the icy streams; beaten down by the unrelenting malice of the raging sun in parched lands blasted to desolation by design or devilry beyond your waking or dreaming imagination.
Then, in an instant, the unfamiliarity fades away into lands, towns, and streets you know well. Familiar faces clog your vision…well, faces that should have been familiar. Something is different . The smiles warm not your heart, the casual friendly banter springs back off you like leaden darts, off armour forged by the lame smith. The meat and bread hold no taste….even the beloved rum seems strangely queer. An undeniable alienation envelops you amidst these phantom shapes in this seemingly phantom land. You seek desperately for some semblance of reality, but what is a dream and what is real – the boundaries have faded , well nigh irrevocably.
Why is everything so unfamiliar ? Are they unfamiliar?
The reality dawns. You have trodden paths from which mortals may scarce emerge unscathed.
“The higher you are, the further you fall…the longer the walk, the farther you crawl”
The words hit home with a chill. Nothing has changed, save perhaps you., so much so that the waking world which succours you seems an overwhelming burden. For a moment you toy with the idea of severing this burdensome cord….but something recalls Nietzsche to you, and his discourse on life and knowledge…and annihilation.
What then should your recourse be?
The Bifrost gleams invitingly…but mortals may not leave the grey lands of Midgard however weary they seem. In Asgard you would tire and fade away in an instant, like moths before a flame too strong.

“Mirror! Mirror! On the wall,
True hope lies beyond the coast.
You’re a damned kind can’t you see,
The tomorrow bears insanity”

Chains and shackles have scared you from your childhood days. You have forever refused to be bound. Some chains are inescapable- life is the most burdensome of them all , and all others are secured to it. However, not all is lost, there are many chains you may yet stave off; indeed many you have successfully done. They say, not all chains are evil ; every man must at a time grow roots deep into the earth and drink of the ancient wells. Somehow, all this talk of growing and digging does not appeal to you. You would sooner take wing, from airy bower to some distant mountain crag….
….but does it serve to think and speak of wings and flight, when all about you are growing roots.
Amidst such quagmires, you find no answers, ….but maybe we shall get some soon . Oh, yes! Indeed …maybe we shall , my precious!!!

“There are times,
When all the world’s asleep;
The questions run too deep,
For such a simple mind”

Sound of Wings

The urban woods are sombre, dark but not a trace of loveliness do you discern; like battlements and bastions grinning at each other across barren lands wasted by malice and anarchy. There are no promises that beckon - no oaths to be fulfilled…the weariness eats into your bones…but all that awaits you is endless, ceaseless, mindless toil; a veritable ocean; stretching wave after wave, mile after mile; beyond the sight of the keenest eyes.Sleep! Ah, Murphy….Sleep is not your lot, not yet anyway , not by a long way! You strain your eyes far into the madding crowd seeking her, the eldest of the endless, and those disarmingly mischievous eyes….at times you think maybe you see her…you hear in earnest for the sound of wings….but the algesic cacophony of the noisome crowd drowns all sound. The sound of the wings she brings with her, and she comes not for you, yet. The mind gropes the darkness in vain, till at last it hits upon him, the Dreamlord, alone and unaided, in battle before the legions of Lucifer…. “I am hope”…….You smile amidst your toil, the paths have to be travelled ….the wings shall find you yet!“Indeed, what power would hell have if those that dwelt here dreamt not of heaven”

GOD ?

Of late , I have been speaking to lots of people with regard to their belief in god, divinity and their religious philosophies. As a confirmed atheist, I’m quite frequently dumbfounded at how educated people with otherwise extremely logical minds, are all of a sudden, trapped in a cell of insecurity when approached with this topic. More than once have I sensed the feeling , indeed occasionally, the overwhelming desire among such individuals to break free from these age old shackles, but the fear and insecurity of the unknown grips them at the last moment; and they willingly continue to let the memetic virus of god and divinity prey on their minds and hence the society as a whole. I have no doubts that were such people to read a little bit more on the subject , namely authors like Dawins and Dennet, a lot of their ill-founded insecurities and fears would be removed. However suggesting books to people is one thing and , and them acquiring and reading the same is quite another. Hence the purpose of this post is to bring out in a nutshell the most basic arguments pertinent to this matter. Indeed reams could be written , and have been written on the subject, but my objective is to condense all the major arguments into as brief a post as possible. As I have just mentioned , most of my points are grounded firmly on the bastions set by Richard Dawkins and Daniel Dennet, 2 of the greatest thinkers of the modern era ; whose works are in turn based chiefly upon Darwinism and the great theory of Natural Selection.

Definition of God

Before mounting any discussion on god, I think it is pertinent to first clear up what the word implies to the educated, amenable to reason , 21st century man. On the face of it, I think most individuals would deny god as being a kind of ‘every breath you take, every move you make, I’ll be watching you’ tyrant Big Brother…as depicted in most scriptures. I fathom that the modern theist’s identity of god is based on the following philosophy – Creation of the universe and of life by intelligent design…. all leading towards some final purpose….the purpose : which most people believe to be the existence of man and his civilization.
To quote the creationist philosopher John Locke – original intentionality springs from God ; we are God’s creatures and derive our intentionality from him
From this stems the cosmic pyramid of Locke, at the top of which sits god, who in turn gives rise to the mind. Most creationist philosophy derives itself from the origin of the mind from God…..when there is a mind , anything that springs from it must have intention. Hence everything that exists and the way it exists is because it was specifically intended to be so by the mind of god and his mind……in other words , a Human- Centric view of life.

GOD
M I N D
D E S I G N
O R D E R
C H A O S
N O T H I N G (The Cosmic Pyramid)





Reversal of the Pyramid : Complexity from Simplicity

The major upheaval that Darwinism brought to science was a complete reversal of the cosmic pyramid. In its most basic form Natural Selection can be defined as a blind , utterly purposeless, mindless, algorithmic process which over long stretches of time gives rise to complex designs from primitive beginnings of sheer chaos and simplicity. These complex forms that have evolved through billions of years , have no purpose; or meaningful existence- they are simply there because at various stages in the past, their ancestors were better suited for survival and propagation under the conditions that prevailed at that particular time- than other species, who did not meet the desired survival criteria and hence do not have any ancestors today. We humans find it impossible to imagine such species and hence cannot imagine their possible existence. For instance, say , if 500 million years ago there were different climatic and environmental survival stresses, then who knows, instead of humans we might have had fire-breathing dragons , and goblins as the dominant life form on earth. Absurd as this may sound, who is to say that of all possible A/G/C/T combinations that form genes and hence , genomes – there could be a possible combination that if expressed correctly could give rise to a Pegasus or a Sphinx. The chances are extremely unlikely, just like randomly picking up letters from the English alphabet for a length of time and expecting to end up with Shakespeare’s ‘Hamlet’. However, that is precisely what natural selection is - a mindless game of chance which over billions of years gives rise to design and organized form from chaos. Thus, what the reversal of the cosmic pyramid has most effectively achieved , is to overthrow the ‘Human-centric’ view of life- which essentially claims that the universe , the earth and all the laws governing them were made so that humans and their civilization could exist . Humans exist simply because their ancestors had survived and undergone serial modifications in their genome , culminating in the 46 XX/ 46 XY.


The Weak Anthropic Principle and the final rejection of intelligent design

The weak anthropic principle is a summation of the above concepts and serves aptly to deal a veritable death blow to Human-centrism. In its most basic form it states that – “the world does not exist so that we , humans, may live here ; but if the world existed in any other form , we would not be here to see it.”….simple and lucid enough, I think , to not warrant any further explanation.
A lot of theist scientists still hold onto one final hope for intelligent design by postulating that – for life to exist, even at the origins, where 2 nucleotides drifted together in the primitive soup to form the first semblance of nucleic acid (i.e. RNA/DNA); at least the original machinery of replicator and replicator power – i.e. of DNA and protein – that makes further evolution of comples design possible , in an intelligent meaningful manner. In other words , god created the start of life , set the laws for its evolution and thereafter let nature take its course.
Dawkins convincingly refutes this theory and the final hope for intelligent design in the following statement – “ Organised complexity is the thing we are having difficulty explaining. Once allowed simply to postulate organized complexity , if only the complexity of DNA/protein replicating engine – it is relatively easy to evolve it as a generation of yet more organized complexity…..but any God capable of intelligently designing something as complex as DNA/protein replicating machine , MUST HAVE BEEN AT LEAST AS COMLEX & ORGANISED as the machine itself.” In other words, it is far more likely and easier to explain for life to have originated totally by random chance in the primitive soup, than by the designs of an intelligent creator.
Thus, Darwinism , at its very core explains the existence of a world that is purely mechanistic and entirely devoid of any ‘meaning’ or ‘purpose’ – working blindly within the framework of the scientific laws without a single thought to what the end product is ; and as a result , very efficiently bringing to naught the hypothesis of intelligent design and creation …in other words, GOD.


Occam’s Razor : The Celestial Teacup

The final point which I wish to touch upon is to encounter the accusation of philosophers who claim that the God hypothesis is beyond science, and since science cannot effectively disprove the existence of God, you cannot comment on his non-existence….in other words atheism v agnosticism .
The analogy of the celestial teacup is a delightful counter to this point. What would your reaction be if someone told you there is a huge teacup…say 30 kms wide , which orbits the sun ; somewhere between the orbits of earth and mars. You cannot see it evenwith your mostpowerful telescopes, but you have to simply have faith and believe in it…in case you cannot do so remain silent. Even the strongest theist would laugh at the idea , saying that although it cannot be disproved , the idea is so improbable that it is not worth believing. The same applies to the God Hypothesis – the absolute non-existence of god cannot be proved ( till date at least) – but science has made the probability of god’s existence so micro-miniscule that it is not worth believing in. Since you are not agnostic about the teapot, why should you be agnostic about god ?


There are plenty of points, theories, examples which I would dearly have loved to toush upon but that would have compromised on the brevity of the post…something I was very loth to do . Already , I fear, the length of the post maybe too long for the patience of some . For those who’ve read through the whole post , would be glad to discuss any points , objections , contradictions etc etc ….drop me a mail or a comment .

Suggested Reading :

Charles Darwin : The Origin of Species

Richard Dawkins : The Selfish Gene
The Blind Watchmaker
The God Delusion

Daniel Dennet: Darwin’s Dangerous Idea
Matt Ridley : Genome

Favourite Rock Albums

Well…back after a long hiatus, more due to laziness than any genuine reason. Anyhow, this post was inspired by a friend , with whom I was chatting last night discussing rock n roll. I realized that I’d yet to make a post on music on the blog. My plan over the next few posts is to recount my all my favourites in rock n roll…albums, artists, bands, songs etc etc….Today , I’ll start with my all time favourite Rock albums.
Whenever you make an all-time great list of any kind in rock n roll, even if it is of your personal favourites , you tend to get stuck very badly , at least at having to choose between a number of pretty similarly matched contenders for a limited number of positions. Interestingly, my 5 favourite albums were never in any doubt…the problem lay in ranking them , especially separating the top 3. After a lot of soul searching (which included some personal sypathies, as you shall see), the list of my favourite rock albums of all time is :

1. Nightfall in Middle-Earth : Blind Guardian
2. Led Zeppelin (IV / The ZOSO album) : Led Zeppelin
3. Appetite for Destruction : Guns n Roses
4. Metallica (the Black Album) : Metallica
5. Back in Black : AC/DC

I plead guilty at the outset that the list is bereft of any album from the likes of the Beatles, Rolling Stones, The Who and other stalwarts of rock n roll. People may also say that the list is not a rock list but a pure metal- list. I guess my only explanation is that metal is dominated by the album concept (esp that of the concept album…sorry for the play of words),whereas rock n roll in general , esp old time was more dominated by singles. The concept album, where the entire album proceeds to narrating a story , often spread over 2 or even 3 albums , has always fascinated me. In my list , only the Blind Guardian album is perhaps a genuine concept album, but in all the rest ,individually great songs as they are, all come together with an undeniable and quite unexplainable sense of cohesion. So , without further adieu , lets examine the albums separately.

1. Nightfall in Middle-Earth : Blind Guardian

Guardian, a german power metal band, famed for deriving inspiration from fantasy tales and classical mythology for their lyrics ,and combining them with a potent cocktail of powerful vocals (replete with harmonies and choir), searing and where required soulful guitar, and great percussion. NiME is based on JRR Tolkien’s epic work “The Silmarillion”, which describes the events of the first age of Middle Earth and the war of the jewels between the high elves (the Noldor) and the great enemy Morgoth, events which later led to his far more well known work , The Lord of the Rings.
The entire album is a whirlwind ride through the lays of beleriand…augmented aptly at places by dialogues, and commentaries. Hansi Kursch is at his masterful best with vocals that even elves the kind of Daeron and Maglor would be hard pressed to surpass. Songs like “When Time stands Still”…describing Fingolfin’s battle with Morgoth at the gates of Angband; Noldor (dead winter reigns)…describing the doom of Mandos and the legendary crossing of the helcaraxe are standouts. However the 2 songs which steal the show are the title track “Nightfall”….describing the darkening of Valinor and the oath of Feanor ; and “Thorn”…a heart-rending ballad dedicated to Maeglin , the ill-gotten and ill-famed prince of Gondolin.
Throughout the album Andre Olbrich is at his best on the guitar, displaying all at once a mastery over blues and metal roots. Thomen (The Omen ) Staunch is as powerful as ever behind the drums.
Those who haven’t heard NiME can never comprehend the sheer melody , power and ultimately unsurpassed beauty of the album…almost akin to the Ainulindale itself;….those who’ve heard it will never deny it a rightful place among the greatest of the great rock albums of all time.

2. Led Zeppelin

This ground breaking album has been famously been referred to by rock fans by a number of fond titles….The Unnamed Album /Four Symbols/ ZOSO /Stairway to Heaven / Led Zeppelin IV. As far as Jimmy Page and the rest of the band were concerned , the album had no name…as Jimmy famously told Atlantic Records in the tussle before the release of the album , “Its not the name, its our music that will sell the album”. Atlantic were concerned that releasing an album without a name, fearing that it would affect sales adversely. After a long drawn out battle of words the band had its way….the rest, as they say , is history. It went on to become one of the top-grossing albums of all time selling in excess of 40 million copies world over. There can hardly have been more rock n roll classics assembled on a single album than Zep managed on ZOSO….songs like Black Dog, Rock n Roll, Misty Mountain Hop would become part of rock folklore . In addition there were unique songs such as “The battle of Evermore” created on the pattern of a celtic folk song with the lyrics inspired from Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” and the acoustic masterpiece “Going to California” which showcased both Plant’s phenomenal vocal range and Jimmy’s unparalleled ability in songwriting / creating .However the album will forever be remembered for giving to the world “Stairway to Heaven”…to my mind , the greatest rock anthem ever
written/composed, becoming the most requested song ever on radio….and not least, the title going on to become an idiomatic expression in the English language itself. From the soul searching opening bars to the adrenaline rushing closure…there is not a single bar out of place….quite simply placing Zeppelin firmly on the pedestal as the greatest rock band ever.


3. Appetite for Destruction : Guns n Roses

“Welcome to the Jungle”….with these words , a harsh guttural screech and a searing guitar riff; Guns n Roses announced its arrival with the most ground-breaking, path-defining and bestselling debut album of all time. The face and ideology of rock was never to be the same again . The band , carried on the shoulders of 2 of the most talented (not to mention controversial) musicians of all time, was for the next 6-7 yrs, to rule the roost of rock and heavy metal while simultaneously being mired deeper and deeper in controversy . On one hand you had Axl Rose, one of the greatest frontmen in rock history , and on the other, one of the true blue guitar geniuses in the top-hatted, chain-smoking Slash…a welcome throwback to the Jimi Hendrix style combining classical rock , blues and metal guitaring all at once. Songs like Sweet Child , Paradise City, and Rocket Queen are all time rock legends. If.their music was a refreshing change from the late 80’s style where classic rock was losing its definition to disco, pop and the likes; their lyrics offered a no- nonsense, in your face, urban reality check and at times rising to sheer poetry and poignancy. The album sold in excess of 30 million copies and was voted the greatest heavy metal album of all time ahead of Led Zeppelin, Sabbath’s ‘Paranoid” and Metallica’s “Master of Puppets”


4.The Black Album : Metallica

Its ironical that if I were to list out the greatest metal albums of all time , at least 2 other albums of Metallica would find a place ahead of the Black album ( or Metallica’s unnamed album).The Black Album was a sudden deviation from the thrash metal perfection they achieved in previous albums like “Ride the Lightening” and “Master of Puppets”. The new album revealed a hitherto unknown softer, more cerebral and surprisingly darker side to Metallica, a kind of versatility few thought they possessed. For me , the lyrical mastery achieved on the album , places it among the pantheon of rock’s greatest.The haunting tunes of “Enter Sandman”and “Nothing Else Matters”, the typical thrash number “Sad but True” and the dark ballad “The Unforgiven” are all classics but the lyrical perfection of the album is best borne out on the song “Wherever I Roam”. In that one song Hetfield effortlessly plays nomadic prophet, clairvoyant and not to mention wanderlust traveler , all at once; in a vocal performance for the ages. The quartet produce one after another moment of sheer thrill and wizardry of vocals, guitar and drums on a backdrop of stirring poetry throughout the length of the album…. culminating in the bridge and chorus of the song “The God that Failed”….

….I see faith in your eyes,
Never you hear the dispirited lies,
I see faith in your eyes…
Broken is a promise…Betrayal!

The healing hand held back
By the deepened nail…
…Go, Follow the God that failed!!!



5.Back in Black : AC/DC


The “Black” is all there is in common between the Black album of Metallica and AC/DC’s legendary Back in Black. The thrash rockers from Oz do what they do best….an onslaught of kickass guitar and banshee vocals with no-holds barred, between the thighs, lyrics that send you shooting through the roof quicker than a triple shot of the fiercest tequila. The sly salacious screams of the flat-capped Brian Jhonson and the adrenaline rushing riffs of rock’s most well known school-boy, Angus Young are guaranteed to provide the most phenomenal and sustained rock n roll orgasm ever. Songs like Shoot to Thrill, Hells Bells, You shook me up all night sum up what AC/DC is all about. There are time when we all wish to forget the higher senses, all kind of logic and sense and just submit to the throes of the most primitive and carnal emotions….you do not have to look further than Back in Black. It is rock n roll at its rawest, uninhibited and embryonic best.

Better late than never: post WC sentiments

This post has been in the pipeline for a very long time.....however procrastintion abd heartache ...and also some genuinely busy times had intervened . Hope to write more frequently.
As an ardent sports lover and die hard fan of Dutch football and Arsenal , I have too often been at the short end of the straw as far as results go. There have been times when you wonder the sense of so much anticipation and yearning simply too see it end in heartache and misery. Happy are those who attain their sustenance from the silver screen and Saas bahu serials- I would remark. But then along come giants like Lance Armstrong , Roger Federer and Tiger Woods to restore your faith and conjure up such magic that in reel life would be dismissed as too fantastical and far fetched. The latest in this line was the mega football event we just witnessed.

The curtains are finally down on the world cup. Perhaps not the most exciting in terms of sheer attacking play but for sheer romanticism and poetic fulfillment , this tournament has to be unrivalled in the entire World Cup history. If any still had doubts that fact is stranger than fiction then just take a look at the number of unbelievable stories the past month has thrown up. Call it coincidence if you are a sceptic or destiny if you are a believer, the fact remains that from the first day to the hair raising last , we were on a roller coaster ride of breakthroughs and redemptions liberally interspersed with abject failure and disgrace. None bear this out better than the extraordinary tales of champions Italy , hosts Germany and a shell shocked France.

Italy, well what can I say of the Azzuri. At the start of the tournament my personal prediction was that if Italy could emerge unscathed out of the first round, they would play the finals against Brazil. Too much has been written about the match fixing scandal in Italy’s serie A which could see 4 maj clubs being relegated and Juventus (which in the final had 11 players who had represented it at some point or the other) likely to be relegated to serie C. Surely lightening could not strike twice . After all in 1982, Italy came off a similar controversy back home to win the event….incidentally that year too Brazil had been made overwhelming favourites. There is something about these Europeans (with the exception of course of the venerable England) that makes them rise like a phoenix from the ashes every single time…the like of which I haven’t seen in any other community or class. What do you know…they produced a master class of team-spirit , single minded devotion and doggedness to overshadow the controversy back home and return with the trophy. The innumerable moments of romance in Italy’s fairy tale journey can best be summarized by looking at the 5 wonderful men who exorcised the ghosts of Roberto Baggio (incidentally another former Juventus man) on a sveltering day in the Rosebowl 12 yrs earlier.
Andrea Pirlo: scored the first spot kick ….after having tragically missed in the 2005 Champions league final for Milan against Liverpool.
Marco Materazzi: Simply put he was in every way the man of the final, from conceding the penalty, to providing the equalizer, to getting Zidane sent off and finally converting his own penalty.
Daniel de Rossi :Sent off in the groups stages for a petulant elbow and subsequently banned for 4 games , the youngster returned in the final as a replacement for Totti and sought redemption at the greatest stage.
Fabio Grosso: From diving in the 95th minute to secure the penalty against Aus to scoring that sublime first goal against Germany in the 119th minute, he was at the heart of all that was good , bad and ugly in the Italian campaign.
Alessandro del Piero : I kept him for the last as a lot of personal sentiments ride with him. He has been my sentimental favourite ever since school days.The golden boy of Juventus widely criticized for not reproducing his club form for his country finally arrived with the goal in the semi final and the penalty in the final. For one who has followed his career every inch of the way, you could sense his relief by the sheer outpouring of emotion at the end of it all.

To round off Italy, in a sheer footballing sense I have to mention Captain Cannavaro. Too often have previous world cups been known by the name of the dazzling player or striker who terrorized defences off all and sundry but never before for a defender. Thus you have Puskas-54, Pele-58 & 70, Cryuff-74, Rossi-82 and of course Maradona-86.However Cannavaro’s performance in the world cup earns him the right to be mentioned in this breath. From the very first match , his amazing anticipation , organization , starting of attacks from the defense, carrying of an at times suspect Materazzi on his shoulders and all this with that characteristically mischievous grin. His play was a joy to behold and for the first time I derived as much pleasure from watching defensive skills as that of the attacking flair of Brazil and Argentina.

As this wonderful tournament progressed , you wondered whether it was Germany’s destiny to triumph. Our bards of yore could not have set up a more picture perfect or romantic and evanescent setting. A country …which for decades has been ridden by the overwhelming burden and shame of the most gruesome genocide in history . A once proud fatherland where for years greybeards and striplings alike grappled in vain with the demons of their own conscience . A land which for half a century was breached by the most notorious wall in history….which even nigh 2 decades has left unsightly scars on the hearts and souls of the German people.
However it seemed that the most unlikely bunch of 23 modern day gladiators, led by a somewhat deposed erstwhile icon , had taken upon themselves the task of providing salvation to the people of a great nation….to once and for all root out the scars of the holocaust and the wall and finally, gain redemption for their countrymen. Anyone who witnessed the amazing quarter final match against Argentina could not help but feel a sense of awe and history. Not least ,in the setting , the magnificent Olympiastadion of Berlin, which had been chosen specifically with the purpose of showcasing the Nazi might in the 1936 Olympic games. They say the arena still retains a few pillars and architectural remains of the original stadium where Deutschland first imposed itself on the world. The Germans might then have stolen the games but the plaudits and hearts went ironically to 2 dark skinned men…ebony express Jesse Owens and the Indian wizard , Maj Dhyan Chand. In those days , proud soldiers of the Reich would stand impeccable with faces carved as if of granite silently conveying the devastation they were about to wreak on the world. Every thing was in perfect decorum and not a hair was out of place.
You get the feeling that the spirits of those men lingered in the till the 30th of June 2006….exactly 70 yrs till an event of similar magnificence and aura but portraying totally contrasting values ;that the passion and euphoria of that wonderful night finally released those guilt ridden souls. There you saw Chancellor Angela Merkel hugging Franz Beckenbauer at that final penalty save by Jens Lehmann of Esteban Cambiasso. The captain Michael Ballack, deemed earlier as the last great of a decaying football powerhouse, hobbling through the entire extra time in excruciating pain but staying on the pitch as the team had used up all their substitutions. What is more , stepping up to take a vital penalty kick. As the commentator most aptly summed it up “ you’d have put your mortgage on him scoring then.” The coach , a former great and world cup winning hero himself , oft critisised for his unorthodox tactics , knew that there were more important things than winning the cup…winning the minds and uniting the hearts of the German people.
Sport defies all prediction . The Germans have not won the cup but Klinsmannn's dream has been achieved , of uniting the people under one banner , something not even the great sporting heroes the likes of Michael Schumacher , Steffi Graf and Beckenbauer himself could achieve. For those who witnessed the tumultuous scenes at the Brandenburg Gate after the third place match, it was a sight to take home ……a sight of redemption for a nation flapping vainly in the dark for more than half a century.

The evolution of a crisis

I sincerely wished to desist from commenting on this topic as myviews are quite tangential from those which have been aired so far.However grant me the ramblings of an idle mind .
The concept of reservations and equal representation are a smalltenet of an inescapable aspect of human evolution into a thinkingspecies with an immensely complicated social structure. The solecause for this stems from an aberrant development of the humanbrain, which makes it think that it is the supreme being on theplanet that the earth and everything on it is meant for humansalone. From hereon developed our social structure with its multi-layered hierarchy. Contrary to what most people believe, and what isone of the more universally prevalent behavioral patterns innature ; humans are possibly the most altruistic species on theplanet. By this, I do not imply that everything humans do arealtruistic …they are definitely not, but that humans show morealtruistic actions than any other species on the planet. I do notbelieve that there is any other organism which concerns itself soclosely with the welfare and the survival of the entire species.Altruism in other species is restricted to the family , the group orin extreme cases the herd. Most organisms however are solelyconcerned with themselves and their progeny. Paradoxically, we arealso one of the more selfish species doing the rounds. As in manyother species , you will find in humans examples of individualsconflicting with others to gain dominion over the ecosystem. Thecomplicated bodily and mental makeup of humans along with theextensive social structure gives countless dimensions to thisselfish behavioral pattern. This constant conflict betweenaltruistic and selfish behavioral patterns finds an extremelyinteresting outlet in the present scenario of reservations in India.Consider an example. If an external environmental change threatenedthe welfare of an organism, most or all organisms would tend tomodify themselves physically, socially or genetically so as toenable itself and its progeny to combat the impending threat.Humans are possibly the only species, which tries to modify theenvironment to overcome the threat. Of course, in the present day wecan argue that we are so dominant over our ecosystem and so mentallyadvanced that this is an easier method for us; but for whateverreason the fact remains that we do so, that we are inherently madeto do so : and in doing so , not least in our reasons comes the oftsited " for the betterment of mankind".Again we humans are the only species, where as a rule rather than asan exception, the stronger sections are concerned with the welfareof the weaker sections. There is an inherent tendency within us toform social groups, but despite having done so, still be concernedwith the welfare of members of all groups. So strong is thisbehavioral pattern that it is only disrupted when a dire andimmediate threat is perceived to self and family, a phenomenon whichis mirrored almost to precision in the ongoing events in our countrytoday.I do not think any examples are required but still- just a few dayswe were all very concerned about genocide and HR violations inDarfur. For a moment, laying aside the humane aspect, is there anyreason why we in India should be concerned about events halfwayacross the globe : No , but we still are because that is how we haveevolved and for all of Ayn Rand's philosophising cannot change whatis an inherent trait to our species. I am not a Rand fan simplybecause I do not believe that humans can inherently display suchbehaviour.So , fortunately or unfortunately, we humans have this habit ofcarrying everyone in our train. It is our `duty' to uplift theweaker sections of our species. The result: we are a tremendousecological success having attained dominion over the entire planetbut evolutionarily we are slowing down , reaching a dead end or assome put it even going in a opposite direction. Agreed , evolutiondoes not work in a handful of generations but our evolution andsubsequent ecological success have robbed quite few of the basicrequirements of evolution. It is not my lot to discuss Darwinismhere as I have already deviated a lot but one final point isrequired . At the very core of evolution is a much derided wordcalled `Purge'. Evolution tends to purge species of the weaker andthe ill fitted for survival, ultimately paving the way for origin ofnew species. Quite paradoxically , evolution of humans hasinculcated them with this behavioral pattern of altruism whichappears to inhibit evolution itself. The result appears only to bethe imminent extinction of the species. It may not come within thenext 2 or 20 generations , but sure as an arrow, it is imminent.Before proceeding further let me emphasise that these views are notmy own but these are what we humans are . Secondly coming back toour main agenda of reservation in India , I am not for one momentsaying that there is any altruistic motive behind it. It is simplyone of vote-bank politics but the idea is drawn from age old humanideals of upliftment of the weak and equal representation of allgroups.History is replete with such examples. All the major religions :Christianity , Islam and Hinduism cite numerous instances of uniformrepresentation, not necessarily from weaker sections but from allsections of society . The 13 apostles were from diff areas andsects. The Argonauts came from all corners of Greece, the 9 gems inAkbar's court were all from different castes, religions and havingdifferent trades. These are not merely coincidences. Cutting back tothe present area , I can think of an all too obvious example in theforthcoming WC Football. If we were to concentrate just on merit (which in football parlance translates to exciting skillfulfootball), we should ideally be having only European , S Americanand possibly a couple of African teams. Why then do we have quotasfor all continents and bear with Asian teams which either depress uswith their sub-standard football or as in the case of S Korea , useFIFA's considerable backing to gain semi-final entries by the backdoor.On the present scenario in India, I have nothing but contempt forreservations …mind you , reservations of any kind, be it SC/ST,OBC , or have what you may. I think even the most vehement socialistwould ultimately agree that in spite of our best efforts wecannot ever completely eradicate economic inequality . Theeconomically strong translates in evolutionary parlance to a fittermodel more suited for survival by a better combination of `nature vsnurture' i.e. gene pool + environment. By our inherent altruistictendencies we try an improve the ill fitted , a concept I can stillreconcile with. However I do have very strong reservations againstthe horizontal fragmentation of society based on caste , religionand the likes , something that is a virus in the society and canonly serve to impede our progress and quest for excellence. Ibelieve we are civilised enough to at least stop the division ofsociety on the basis of these superstitious cultural beliefs .However I do not have much sympathy for the protesting groups eitherbecause I believe that their allegations and accusations are toomyopic and more importantly are based more on selfish motives thanon any fundamentally conceptual beliefs and philosophies. To sitean example, tomorrow when the UK and US denies visas to Indianstudents on grounds that they would settle down there and encroachon the employment of that nation's own citizens, I do not see anyIndian come forth to say that it the correct thing is being done.Rather, people behave almost as if a fundamental right of theirs isbeing snatched away. People protest in the name of reservationsagainst SC/ST and OBC's in the name of equality but noone is heardthat such a classification should be done away with in the firstplace. Unfortunately, you cannot have your cake and eat it too.There has to be some kind of consistency in your views.In my eutopian world, there would be no social divisions, noreligion, caste or countries. The entire humankind would work onlytoward one common goal…. Progress. The emphasis would be solely uponexcellence and nothing else would supersede it. However it is justwishful thinking…. it will never be. For humans are nor made toexist in that manner. Till then, que sara sara.