Death on railway tracks

While there is a new wave of jingosim in the Indian media about the killing of Indian fishermen by Italian naval officers, no one seemed to notice or care about a government report about death on railway tracks.

According to a government committee report, 15,000 people die every year on railway tracks. That comes to around 41 people a day. Now, 6000 of those deaths take place in Bombay.

En route to Bombay Central yesterday, I noticed a group of rag pickers walking on a railway bridge over the Mahim creek and wondering how these people would escape death if a local train came on that bridge at that precise moment. They would have either been flattened or would have drowned in the Mahim creek! It's even scarier to see babies from slums crawling on railway tracks. Since it is a political issue, slums bordering railway lines will never be cleared, but not all deaths are of slum-dwellers. Many people cross tracks instead of climbing and using overbridges. Something needs to be done to curb this menace.

Austrians and stray dogs: And now it's Bertram's turn

All the while, when Bertram, the Austrian from Bandra heard of or witnessed the gruesome and pitched battles between his countrymen and Indian stray dogs, he laughed his head off, going to the point of blogging about Gunter and the Wolf's troubles with the canines.

On a new moon day in dusty, broken down Andheri, karma would rear its ugly head on Bertram. Inflammed by a dry and hot February day, Bertram took the painful and agonising walk through the Andheri market on J.P. Road. The honking of auto rickshaws, the aggresive bikers, the dirty savages spitting and the pollution made the unbearable heat even worse.

As Bertram crossed the Hanuman Temple, he stepped on an unidentified object. Within a second, a loud howl shook the Austrian out of his self-imposed anger with Andheri. Betram had stepped on the paw of a stray dog. The frightened mutt limped away to safety, choosing not to harm the Salzburger. On compassionate grounds, Betram tried to buy a pack of biscuits for the mutt, but the terrified creature ran towards Andheri station fearing for its life.

A sad episode that was none the less over, thought Bertram, but the future had a twist of fortunes awaiting the Bavarian beer-lover.

12  hours after the first encounter with the mutt, Bertram was walking again on the same  J.P. Road. Only this time, the streets were empty and the dogs ruled the roost. As Betram recalled the wonderful moments of the Sicilian opera that he had watched, one bark from a stray turned to 10. It was now time for the morning's mutt to settle old scores. Shouts of shoo, aus, hutt, all fell on ears that were not willing to listen. The mutts smelt Austrian blood. They moved in towards Bertram, who quickly used his reflexes to start a barrage of stone-throws straight at the mutts. The shocked strays made a dash for nearby lanes, barking at their loudest and calling for reinforcements. Bertram was unshaken. It was he, who paid the taxes to the Indian Government and not the canines. The roads were his property.

As Bertram crossed the infamous Navrang Cinema Hall, the barks got softer until they came to a standstill. Yes, it was another victory for the nation that is the successor to the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Somewhere in celestial bliss, Franz Joseph I would have been proud that another one of his soldiers repelled a stray-dog attack in the land of savages!

My article on southern Sri Lanka in the Free Press Journal

Southern Sri Lanka is blessed with an abundance of beaches, with Mirissa being my pick of the lot. The white sandy beach has all the dramatic imagery to be classified as paradise: white sands, rows of coconut trees, green rolling hills and crystal clear and blue water.

Read more here

Book Review: My Life by Marc Chagall

I have read weird books before but this autobiography written by French-Russian artist Marc Chagall has to be the strangest piece of literature I have ever come across. In a style that I can't even possibly begin to describe, Chagall takes us on a journey from his upbringing in a traditional yet poor Jewish family in Vitebsk (now in Belarus) through his adolescent years and his first stint in Paris, and his second attempt at Russian life.

We learn that his family, friends, acquaintances and the colourful characters in his life were the inspiration for some of his earlier works. Chagall wrote this book in 1923, after moving to Paris a second time from Russia. We read about the sterotypes about Jews in Czarist and Soviet Russia and the terrible progroms that the community faced there.

More than anything, the book, full of the author-artist's illustrations, showcases Chagall's amazing sense of humour and his ability to let the small things in life just go.  We also get insights into the Russia of Czar Nicholas II and of St Petersburg in the days, when the city was closed to those without permits. Looks like the passport checkers have always been a part of Russian life.

Interestingly enough, Chagall even studied in a school run by Nicholai Roerich. Chagall wrote about how Roerich's poems and literature could only be  understood by the author himself. We also hear about the great artists and playrights of those days. This book takes the reader to through some of the tumultous moments in Russian history.

Despite the harshness of Russian life and the discrimination that Chagall faced, there seems not even be a hint of resentment for Russia. His greater attachment, of course, is to his hometown Vitebsk, but none the less there is an unconditional love he seems to have for Russia.

He says, "and perhaps Europe will love me, and with her my Russia." These words were written in 1923. 90 years later, he is fondly remembered in Europe as one of the greatest artists of the last century and Russia, which is now post-Soviet Russia, fondly reclaims him as one of its own.

Observations from municipal election day in Andheri

It was nice to see people from my building, who have a dubious reputation when it comes to civic responsibilty actually going to Sardar Patel Engineering College to vote in the municipal elections. At 7:35 am, we were among the first people to be there to cast our democratic resposibility.

My job was made easier, when a letter from Team Anna Hazare told me all I needed to know about the Congress goons trying to win the seat in my constituency. Besides the usual corruption allegations, I found out that the man who handed the ticket to the Congress party candidate is none other than local MLA Bhau Jadhav, the same man paying the legal fees of the killer thugs who murdered Keenan Santos and Reuben Fernandes. While all politicians may be corrupt, the least I could do was ensure that I don't support a man or a party that pays for the defence of molestors and killers!

On my way back home from the Bhavan's College campus, I saw a large group of Muslim women in burkhas walking towards the polling booth. They were literally being herded there like sheep by men in 2 motorcycles. They were being instructed to not talk to anyone and to vote for the "haath. (hand and symbol of the Congress)" This was the first time I saw a group of barely literate people being led to vote some where en masse.

My vote may not make a huge difference in the outcome of the municipal elections, but at least I was able to lodge some protest against the corrupt, communal and casteist Congress party, whose members openly support murderers and rapists!

Being firm with Israel and Iran

Like most Indians, I like both Israel and Iran (and any foreign country for that matter). The world would be a better place if Iran and Israel were friends. I don't however see that as a likely scenario at the moment but while these countries continue their "lovefest," the Indian Government needs to tell them to keep their violent activities out of our territory.

The attack on an Israeli diplomat's wife in Delhi this week was probably the first instance where India was used as a setting for settling international scores. Israel and Iran have been trading charges on this attack as well as botched attacks in Bangkok and Tbilissi. India has enough problems with terrorism and we don't need Mossad and the Quds force slugging it out in Chanakyapuri. Considering how sloppy the attack was, I doubt either agency was involved but India needs to tell these countries that such acts will not be tolerated under any circumstances.

Charles Dickens: A Highly Bigoted and Troubled Man

There was a programme at the 2012 Kala Ghoda Festival that was supported by the British High Commission celebrating the legacy of Charles Dickens on his 200th birth anniversary. Dickens remains a popular writer among the elite of India. Some members of this very elite are self-loathers and hate the idea of India. Such feelings would have delighted Dickens who had a particular hatred, partly powered by the savagery of India's 1857 War of Independence.

There were terrible cases of Indian freedom fighters killing English women and children and surely that would have added fuel to the fire of the hate that Dickens had for India. The following is what Dickens, whose son was an East India Company Officer, had to say about a country, where the elite love him. In a letter to Angela Burdette-Couts, October 4, 1857, Dickens wrote, "The first thing I would do to strike that Oriental race with amazement...should be to proclaim to them, in their language, that I should do utmost to exterminate the Race upon whom the stain of the late cruelties rested." Dickens also called for the "extermination" of the Indian race and applauded the "mutilation" of the wretched Hindoo who were punished by being "blown from...English guns[s]." (I cite "Letters from Charles Dickens to Angela-Burdett-Coutts", Edgar Johnson, Ed.; Jonathan Cape, London, 1953 and "The Speeches of Charles Dickens", K.J. Fielding, Ed., Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1960, page 284)



Some may argue that this was just a reaction to the events of the war. But then how we can explain his comments on Irish and Italians? The writer of  A Chistmas Carol and Great Expectations had such pleasant things to say about the Italians such as, "Whereas, as mere animals, they were wretched creatures, very low in the scale and very poorly formed; and as men and women possessing any power of truthful dramatic expression by means of action, they were no better than the chorus at an Italian Opera in England -- and would have been worse if such a thing were possible." (I cite "The Noble Savage", Household Words, June 11, 1853, page 168)

And I have saved the "best" for last. This is what he said about the Irish. "Ten, twenty, thirty—who can count them! Men, women, children, for the most part naked, heaped upon the floor like maggots in a cheese! Ho! In that dark corner yonder! Does anybody lie there? Me Sir, Irish me, a widder, with six children. And yonder? Me Sir, Irish me, with me wife and eight poor babes. And to the left there? Me Sir, Irish me, along with two more Irish boys as is me friends. And to the right there? Me Sir and the Murphy fam'ly, numbering five blessed souls. And what is this, coiling, now, about my foot? Another Irish me, pitifully in want of shaving, whom I have awakened from sleep–and across my other foot lies his wife–and by the shoes of Inspector Field lie their three eldest–and their three youngest are at present squeezed between the open door and the wall. And why is there no one on that little mat before the sullen fire? Because O'Donovan, with wife and daughter, is not come in yet from selling Lucifers! Nor on the bit of sacking in the nearest corner? Bad luck! Because that Irish family is late tonight, a-cadging in the streets!" (I cite "On Duty With Inspector Field", by Charles Dickens, Household Words, Saturday, June 14, 1851, pages. 266, 267)

Yes, Dickens wrote some great works of literature, but surely that doesn't excuse the fact that he was a racist, supported and promoted genocide and was against abolishing the slave trade.