The Fellow man

It’s scorching noon in Chennai and the sun’s wrath has never been worse this year. The tarred roads are at least fifteen degrees hotter than ambient and conjure up mirages like nobody’s business, making the scene look more like a stylised painting. But in it you can see spots of red, orange, green and black going up and down the street without any care of the punishing heat. These are our very own food-delivery agents parading their brand-specific t-shirts. The craziest thing is these shirts are often worn on top of another layer, protecting them from sweat so they can be worn for a day more. Now, imagine wearing two layers in 42 degree weather (feels like 50, as per Google) with the sun resolute to cook you alive. These guys, most of them young, ride around delivering lunches from restaurants to people’s homes and offices like it’s a walk in the park. Most don’t care to wear even a cap on top of their baking heads.

The number of jobs tech has created in recent times is commendable and much needed too. A never ceasing population growth needs any and all means of job creation. There is no room to think about ‘human rights’ or ‘the environment’ when the scramble for survival is very real. Marriage and baby-making is sacred though; it’s something every man and woman is expected to get done or die trying. Wait, did you just think about population control?! Oh, snap! You’re a villain now.

These days, in Chennai at least, there is a new distinction between jobs - is the work environment air-conditioned or not? This is why jobs at malls and showrooms are so highly sought after among less privileged youth. Cab-ride apps have made way for another air-conditioned workspace, aka cars. There is no sign of summers getting any cooler, so, hopefully, more workplaces will become climate-controlled. However, there still will be some poor souls that will have to brave the horrible sun.

But, what determines who is hung out to dry? Is it intelligence? Character? Discipline? Grit?

Nope, it’s just plain fate. 

The foremost reason we are where we are is fate. 

You might argue that it’s through hard work and determination that you made it to where you are now; but, in a roundabout way, that argument also means the people who aren’t as successful are not working hard and/or are not determined enough. As far as I can see, these delivery agents are hard-working and hella determined to make a buck; but if just brain-work qualifies, then maybe the scales are a bit skewed. You might not be at fault for thinking that the grades at school and the appraisals at work are the testaments of one’s value. It is the result of the system put in place to choose the right candidates for particular kinds of tasks. It’s the same for a plethora of professions and trades where you just have to be good at certain things to get the job done right. However, it’s only human to attach elevated meanings to these scores and distinctions. 

As far as such competitive evaluation systems give you positive energy and the spirit of ambition, it’s great! However, being completely unaware that the majority out there who haven’t even had the privilege to know that such things exist, is very much like an American team claiming they are ‘World Champions’ in ‘American’ Football! Joking aside, being aware of the people of the world and their predicaments helps us stay grounded and less lost in out our own bubble-worlds. It can prevent us from falling into the trap of prejudice and baseless discrimination. 

In a world where ‘globalisation’ has such a positive connotation, only trade, money and workers have really crossed borders; and maybe some refugees too. Fresh hatred and fear are being sowed for political ambitions while old biases grow ever stronger. For most of us, all the chaos is overwhelming and we cocoon ourselves, focusing more on our work, our family and our future. But one natural crisis, one mistake on the road, one late cab at night or one random misfortune (*touch wood* to all of those!) could burst the bubble in a second and reality will stare us right in the face. Only the residual humanity left in our society will come to the rescue.

It could only do us good to think also about the fellow man.

Another short story - 'Curry Leaves'

They are free if you buy other vegetables at the local grocery store. Your neighbours wouldn’t even be bothered if you plucked a few from their tree. But their enigmatic value runs deep into the very subconscious of every ‘Madrasi’. Almost every curry made down here, in the southern part of India, needs a few of them at the very beginning of the preparation process. Without its unmistakable aroma and unique flavour in the mix, South Indian food would seem alien to any South Indian. It even adds to the colour and authentic look of various dishes. 

But, the story is very different after a dish has been served. After the beautiful ensemble of the dish with its steamy freshness has been relished with resolute patronage, the curry leaf faces the ultimate twist of fates. 

He was sitting there, opposite her, in a ‘pure vegetarian’ authentic South Indian restaurant, looking at her beautiful face lit by the evening sun beaming orange through the large window behind him. Was she trying not to look at him, or was it the sun? - he couldn’t figure out. They had been together for about eight months. Eight months of feeling special and important to someone is enough to change your entire life. For him, it was validation that he wasn’t weird; that he belonged somewhere, unlike what his parents and sister made him feel. He had built himself an entire castle of confidence around it. And she was the queen. Her pink and perfect lips shifted shapes fast. He didn’t listen. Instead, he watched her gracefully pour the hot sambar onto her very white plate, with equally white but fluffy idlies sitting on it. 

Her mind was completely taken by the task of saying what she was here to say and yet her fingers, as if by their own accord, slowly started fishing out one curry leaf after another from the sambar and placing them aside. Leaves that were worth no money and yet one reason why this sambar smelled, and would probably taste, as exquisite as it would have several hundred years ago. But now it was time for them to be removed. Much like how he had to be, for her to say yes to an alliance her parents had found for her. Her voice wasn’t steady like her hands though. But neither was this whole thing unforeseen. 

He knew this was coming too. She knew he knew. But this conversation had to be had. Hope had to be extinguished and the castle had to come crashing down. The other guy was just a way better proposition. Software engineer at one of the tech giants in Silicon Valley with a hefty paycheque to keep any Indian girl happy. And if anyone deserved to be happy, it was her. But, he just couldn't face 'goodbye'.

His eyes fixated on the leaves. ‘What must they be thinking?’, he thought. They were just leaves on some random plant, trying to do their thing. But someone just came by, plucked them and threw them into a frying pan. And now here they lay, cast aside, soon to be one with the garbage. 

She tried to hold back her tears. Life wasn't going to be the same without him. She wanted him to be happy. There were other girls out there. All he had to do was get out there and find himself someone great for him. Someone nice, who could go the distance with him. Because she couldn’t. Her parents and relatives would be very disappointed in her if she let the US proposal go. ‘You know how much I always wanted to travel’, she said. 

It didn’t make sense to him, but he understood. He had to. 

The sun set as she left. 

He sat there, still looking at her plate. She hadn’t eaten a single bite. But all the curry leaves had been removed clean off the sambar.

Short story - Lapse limbo

The living room hasn’t been cleaned for weeks. Crumpled, empty bags of chips, energy bar wrappers and drink bottles, are strewn across it. He usually blames it on the ceiling fan for scattering it all around. The fairly large coffee table doesn't have a square-inch left unoccupied. Unread newspapers, pamphlets and bills lie all over it, haphazardly. Two unwashed mugs stand on one corner, while another lurks below the table, abandoned. The couch, thankfully, has almost nothing on it; surprising, judging by the rest of the room. This is because he moves around on it a lot and often sleeps overnight on it; dozing off while the TV is still on. 

As the morning light hits the sprite can, which still has an ounce left in it, he walks in from the bedroom. He isn’t yawning or squinting. His eyes are wide open and his heart is speeding. ‘What was it?’, he thinks to himself, ‘I knew it a second ago’. He is frustrated because this is the fourth time it has happened to him this week. He forgot again.

It’s 2 in the afternoon and the office is filled with the clicking of mice and clacking of computer keys. He is staring at his screen but his mind has wandered off. It is busy trying to piece things together for the umpteenth time. It had been the exact same dream. He was intensely searching for something; something very important. And at the end of it, he had felt so much better than he has been feeling for days. It was the exact same dream. However hard he puts his mind to it though, he can’t remember what he was searching for. He had to know what it was.

It’s 8 in the evening. He is sat in his living room at one corner of the couch, head in his hands. He is just sitting there, letting time slip by. He has already given up. 

The next day isn’t very productive either. Neither can he finish his work for the day, nor does the mystery unravel even a bit. Back on the couch by evening, but this time with the TV on, he lies there staring at the ceiling fan. The emptiness seems so permanent. It was over a year ago that she had left him. He couldn’t hate her, how much ever he tried. His chest weighed a tonne. The pain seemed insurmountable. It took him months, but he finally did manage to get over it. He had just found a groove to get back on track, and now this. This was beyond what he could handle.

It’s 4 in the morning and the TV is still on. He had passed out, while still lying on the couch. And now, he is dreaming the same dream. 

‘Of course I remember, how could I ever forget?!’ he thinks to himself. And then he starts searching for something all over the apartment. 

They used to write letters to each other; physical letters. It was their thing. Long distance relationships are not easy and they had to get creative if they wanted keep it alive. But, it turned into a sour thing when they began fighting through the same letters. She wanted him to join her. He wasn’t putting enough effort into it. Things reached the point of no return and the writing stopped. It had gotten way too serious for quaintness. The breakup and the quarrels leading up to it happened over the phone. He was seething. She was distraught. His ego had made it all about his pride and individualism. Neither of which he cared about right now.

But there was one last letter. A letter she chose to write for him after everything was over. A remnant of that special thing they had. He didn’t open it. And soon enough, it was misplaced and forgotten. 

About 3 weeks back, he received a call from a mutual friend. An unfortunate news ripped his heart and mind to shreds in an instant. It left him lifeless. 

There had been an accident. She was gone. 

Everything derailed. He was reduced to a barely functioning man. Meaning and purpose had vanished.

And then came the dreams. The exact same dream over and over. In it, he would restlessly search all night for her last letter; breathing deeply, like a madman, all through. And when he finally found it, his heart would flood with emotion. Her last words to him, as he imagined them to be, would be magical and healing. He would feel a sense of peace, an oasis of comfort, in a world of pain; a momentary stillness at the eye of the storm.

It’s 6:57am. He wakes up breaking a sweat. Eyes wide open and heart racing, he jumps up on his feet and repeatedly presses his palms to his temples. ‘Not again, not again!’, he says to himself, forlorn and agitated. ‘What was it, god damn it! What the hell was I searching for?’

All the while, her last letter lies neglected under the coffee table, perfectly hidden from view.

Free money!!!

Sikkim’s Chief minister has announced that, if elected, he will provide a ‘Universal Basic Income’ (UBI) to all 7 lakh state citizens by 2022. This, basically, means the Sikkim Government might end up giving every registered resident of the state a nominal amount of money periodically, for free. The Chief Minister claims that he will finance this with the surpluses the state government gets as its share from central hydel-power projects in the state. Though the feasibility of this needs to be established, the concept of UBI is clearly back in the limelight.

As many of us already know, the Economic Survey of 2016-17 has a whole 40 pages(173 - 212) on the topic (refer: https://www.indiabudget.gov.in/es2016-17/echapter.pdf) and it clearly defines and explains everything about Universal Basic Income. However, some doubts still plague the concept. Here’s an attempt to address them…

Can we afford it? 

Free money for everyone seems completely bonkers at first, but the fact is the government leases out resources common to us all and makes a lot of money out of it. For example, the very air around us is leased out to telecommunications companies to relay their signals over. What the government does with this money is not based on equality but on requirements and policies. Theoretically, it is possible to fund UBI in India and bring equality into the equation, even though we are still a developing country. In reality though, the jury is still out on the finance. Several existing schemes and ‘yojnas’ might have to be revoked(which is bad for the polls). However, the true cost (beyond just money) of such a measure can only be investigated once it is implemented.

Will it make people lazy?

Several trials done at different locations around the world suggest that this is not the case. However, the people receiving money probably knew the trials were only going to last a couple of months. The behavioural response in this case could be different from that to a more permanent government policy. Hence, it’s only rational to be skeptical. The amount every person will receive is a critical factor in determining whether people will become lazy or not. If it’s too small, it’s no help at all and if it’s too large, it’s definitely going to make many people quit work. 

Is it a ruse? 

Like all political moves, UBI might very well be a strategy to gain an advantage during elections. Voting out a government that hands out ‘free money’ doesn’t sound like an idea the beneficiaries might support. Unless, of course, the party in opposition is willing to continue the scheme or do better. Much like several other programs aimed at helping the needy, UBI could become something with a political ‘Lakshman Rekha’ around it. If the word ‘experiment’ is used as anticipatory bail before implementing UBI, there could be a way out if it indeed turns out to be infeasible and/or damaging to social health.

Why does the Silicon Valley speak highly of UBI? 

To know why Zuckerberg and several others in the Bay Area support UBI, it is essential to think like a capitalist. Most businesses need a stable government that doesn’t change it’s policies every few years. A government that brings UBI is likely to be highly favoured among those in the majority vote-bank, thus extending its time in power. Also, since the funds to maintain the scheme is heavily dependent on the taxes paid by large companies, they get a significant upgrade in terms of their leverage in the ‘lobby’. The government could lose its high-ground; not that it has much at present. Moreover, any young person with a thousand free bucks every month in his/her pocket is going to get more internet or buy more stuff online. This is a good plus for companies whose sole agenda is ‘more people in front of more screens for more time’.

Is it right for India?

In a country where the majority of bureaucracy is corrupt and/or blatantly misuses authority, it is always a good idea to bypass all of it and provide help directly to the people in need. The idea of every helpless,hungry human being (with a bank account) getting a respite, however small it may be, is heart-warming. On the other hand, the concept of giving Mr.Ambani Rs.1000 a month is just comical. The difference between equality and equity comes to the fore here. Several layers of bureaucracy came into existence for the very purpose of directing funds to those in actual need. If at all we do find a way to make it viable, UBI could come with an ‘opt out’ option - much like the LPG subsidy. Will it help transform us for the better? - your guess is as good as anybody’s!

"Ende Ayyapo!" (OMG!)

Sabarimala is on national news today. The age-old tradition of denying women below the age of fifty entry into the famous Ayappa temple atop Sabarimala has been broken. Two women have bravely gone where no woman(of their age group) has gone before. Protests have erupted across the state of Kerala, but they seem to be largely politically motivated. So then, which side does the average person take in this seemingly dicey debate? For starters, you might think - ‘Why did these women choose to target this long held religious custom? Why not address gender issues in other social and work related settings?’. Let me try and shed some light.

Imagine a little boy and his father going on a pilgrimage to Sabarimala. The boy notices that in all the masses of people around them, there aren’t any girls or women(except some old grandmas). So, he asks his father in all innocence, “Dad, why aren’t there any women here?”. Now, imagine you are that little boy’s father and you need to answer that question; what would your explanation be? 

Let me guess; any father would probably say, “It’s tradition. Only women above the age of fifty come to Sabarimala”. Surely though, curiosity isn’t a courteous guest. The boy would predictably go on to ask why that is. What would you say then? Would you come up with a lie to shut him up? Or would you just opt to break it to him that our tradition believes women are ‘impure’? There is no chance that you would explain the whole biology of menstruation to the young boy; but that’s besides the point here. Any which way, the boy will eventually learn the truth. He is going to grow up with the idea that women are intrinsically ‘sub-man’. That there is something mysteriously wrong with them that makes them less worthy. This notion along with all the patriarchy and discrimination on blatant display in his day-to-day life, would subconsciously cement a borderline misogynistic mentality. You don’t have to take my word for it; just look at the footage of all those crybabies throwing a real tantrum out on Kerala’s streets!

This is why the Sabarimala issue is important. This is why activists tried to break the long-held tradition (and eventually succeeded). Though so many Ayappa-bhakts would openly support feminism and gender equality in their social spheres, at the heart of their most personal beliefs lies the hypocrisy of the ‘impure gender’. It only truly hurts when it happens to you - I mean the rude awakening. While we point fingers at Saudi Arabia and Pakistan, condemning how they treat their women, we forget that we treat ours badly in several ways too. We turn a blind-eye even when women are discriminated against right in front of us. All we need is some twisted and senseless logic to pass off as a reason for doing so. 

To me this Sabarimala issue is a wakeup call. It showed me how it feels when our hypocrisies blow up right in our faces. It is time to be more aware of the injustices being casually dished out on the basis of unfounded justifications. Breaking the silence might make the person doing it seem uncivil and confrontational, but what else will actually change things? Should we just go with the usual - waiting for western cultural hegemony to take its sweet time and slowly ‘advance’ our social norms, habits and choices on its terms?   

Millen'aliens'

Over the ages, it has been common tradition for the older generation to dismiss the younger as ‘spoilt’, ‘irresponsible’ and ‘lost’. Even among the youth, some choose to assume the moral high ground and ridicule the less traditional for being ‘ungrateful’ and acting ‘entitled’. All of this is well and good within certain limits, and even contributes to healthy changes in their own way. However, our world has transformed in terms of technology and social connectedness, which, though has had largely positive effects on society, also amplifies not-so-well-thought-through theories, propagandas with ulterior motives and just plain stupidity #StopMakingStupidPeopleFamous. Divisions between groups in society based on religion, caste, cultures, etc., has always been the bane of India and we all thought technology and progress would break down barriers - and this has largely been true with modern work environments bringing people from myriad backgrounds together and treating them equal, etc., but a new divisive narrative is rearing its ugly head and it only seems to be getting stronger. The one that aims to alienate 'millennials'.

The word ‘millennials’ was coined by a couple of authors to jazz up their book titles, but it was the media and ad industry who took it and ran with it. They used it to categorise the younger demographic who would graduate after the year 2000 and they attributed characteristics to the group that they thought uniquely identifies it. As we all know, the ad world adds extra masala to everything, and this has resulted in an extreme and skewed representation of the average ‘millennial’. The beauty of the age of social media is the blatant appreciation of the exaggerated and, unsurprisingly, social media took this unrealistic image of the millennial and ran with that. Mind you, social media may be young and created by the young, but not all who benefit are young! There are a gamut of executives and experienced professionals behind the scenes of social media and just like any other media, most people are on there for monetary gain. I think you can begin to see the irony here. A platform targeted at the young, built with content generated by the young themselves, but not really ‘of the young’ - meaning, the lion's share of the profits generated (through ads) are pocketed by heavy-weight investors and big-wigs who are far from young. When it comes down to the numbers, only a small part of the entire profit churned out of social media goes to the ‘millennials’. Sure, young social media celebrities get paid a lot, but where do you think the money comes from? Carrots to keep the donkeys going! The next level of business-thinking has embraced and brilliantly adapted to technology faster than we can even wrap our head around it. 

Far from a self-spoilt generation that was born hating reality, millennials seem to be the scapegoats to new heights of exploitation. The world before them is littered with unending sources of distraction and new, exciting ways of making some dough on the side, or even making a (questionable) 'career' out of. They are, arguably, being lured by this ad-money driven colossus and herded into a state of crippling addiction, anxiety and discontentment. Meetings inside shiny, glass-wrapped headquarters of ad-giants (Google+Youtube, Facebook+Instagram, etc.) have decided on their target - 'get more people in front of more screens for more time'. The easily enticed millennials are getting cheated out of hours and hours of their lives spent in front of colourful, super-HD screens. What comes to mind is the name of that social media startup the protagonists create in the popular TV series ‘Silicon Valley’ - ‘Pied Piper’; which I’m sure was hardly named randomly. The Pied Piper of Hamelin, as we all know, played his magical pipe to lure the town’s children away - how uncannily analogous to what these social-media platforms are doing to our young people! Who can resist when the most interesting and most funny content is right there at your finger tips? Reality is boring! 

There are very few ways to stop such a juggernaut of ‘entertainment’. There are those who argue whether it should even be stopped. On top of all this, there’s climate change, gigantic population challenges, depletion of key resources etc., that are being pitilessly bequeathed to the millennials to solve. There is no telling what the future holds and there seems to be very little, in our power, that can be done to alter it. We can choose to work along the direction the world is headed in or just crib about everything that's happening. Whichever the choice, alienating the next generation is clearly a folly. It is in our interest to actively set an example and be human to each other, whichever generation we might belong to. A bit of discipline, respect and wisdom can a long way too!