The change is in the air; it just cannot be missed - even if one tried. One may wonder how did it happen? When? But these questions are inconsequential. The numbers - 7% of GDP or 8% or whatever - are the name of the game. New abbreviations like BRIC (Brazil, Russia, India and China) have been coined.
He is a sceptic. He doesn't know whether the hype matches the substance. He goes by the media. There are odd indicators. The mornings have become cooler. Summers have gone. The excellent monsoons have left the water tables higher and the potholes deeper. Whatever the changes, his life goes on. The mornings are the most difficult part, especially getting up early in the morning. But on a few occasions, the lethargy is shed. And he gets up to go for a jogging on the 'other side'. The two sides are separated by a thick yellow line - not the ones that separates roads, but those that separates hearts - as though the property papers were not good enough. 'This side' does not have parks. What used to be there once has been devoured by pesticides. How? Because the pesticides in cola meant lower cola sales, which in turn meant lower pickup of fresh glass bottles. So the sacks of fresh bottles take the park and he goes to the 'other side'. The 'other side' is well maintained. The lawn carries a banner 'Walking in the lawn is strictly prohibited'. But it is a long lawn and certain part is deemed exempt from the diktat. So the regulars and the irregulars have their quota of fresh air - to fill the lungs that have to last the whole day. Within minutes, everything feels wonderful. As the sun ascends, and the clock ticks, he bids good-bye to his wife and leaves for office.
The nation's sun is also on the ascent. 'Brand India' is the buzzword. The market is abuss with news about how certain companies have spread their tentacles across the world. Take Tata's Indica for instance. What was once considered a truck-maker's fantasy is now set to be sold in Europe as Rover. This is not just an exception. There are many to cite. Be it Steel (TISCO and SAIL), Pharmaceuticals (Ranbaxy and Dr. Reddy's Lab), Software (Infosys and Wipro), Motorcyles (Hero Honda and TVS), or a host of other products including CDs, apparels, and auto components, the 'Made in India' brand is now no more a taboo. Analysts sum up the transformation in one word 'Quality'.
He lives in India and sees only what is seen in India. The commute to office tells many stories. Not even a kilometre away, he sees an overturned Jeep. The reason is not difficult to fathom. Purportedly, it was over-speeding and could not avoid an unmarked road divider. Nearby, a building is being rebuilt. Soon after it was built, it subsided like a pack of cards. A major tragedy was avoided in the nick of time because a major religious congregation was being held there just hours before its collapse. His car moves ahead and passes through an upcoming residential colony. This was not the route he took sometime back. But years of neglect and continued deterioration led him (and many others!) to choose this path that should have ideally been just for the colony residents. But without options, cars and truckers choose this colony's roads, which unfortunately is not good either. But beggars cannot be choosers. A thin layer of bitumen barely holds loosely strewn stones together. The sides of the elevated road have collapsed after the rains. A truck stuck there for two days. And soon wisdom dawned that the sides of roads could not be relied upon. As the car would move ahead, more shabbiness would come.
The nation's roads fare much better. With a staggering investment of 54,000 crore, India will have 5846km of Golden Quadilateral and 7300km of North-South-East-West built by the end of 2007. And for once, the work is going to finish before schedule (see CC#13 'Of Roads, Rails, and Safety').
On his way, the roads have been repaired after the rains. But the shabbiness is glaring and the road quality awful. Water being the major culprit, new sewage lines are being built. But many of them do not have manholes. They were either not put in the first place or were taken away by anyone who could. And many of the manholes that are present are either lying on top of the hole as they are too big, or have sunk few inches. His friend once asked why were the manholes round? so that they did not fall in the hole. But this theory does not stand test of time. The manhole, along with the side-linings, has collapsed at many places, leaving gaping gaps on the pedestrian footpaths.
The nation's stock market has not collapsed. Instead, it is on a bull run. Analysts say the fundamentals of the economy are strong and it is not a freak bull run. The Initial Public Offerings are being subscribed many times over. And those who had lost all hope in the stock market are returning back. Online trading and dematerialised shares have made the business all that simple.
His company's shares too have risen many times. So he too hopes to make some money. But his company is far and there is still some driving to do. Till than, he has to brave a mandi (vegetable market) that has encroached almost half the road. There is another route but that is very narrow. To prevent large commercial vehicles from using that road, an iron frame was built at the entry of the road. The very next day he found the iron frame broken. The remnants remain till date and the commercial vehicles ply unabated.
The nation's sportsmen too make unabated progress, except the cricket team, which is busy collecting endorsement money and fighting for better contract. Others have a passion and zeal. The hockey team has won tournaments in Australia, Germany, Malaysia and India this year. Barring the Champions trophy, the performance has been good. One women long jumper won a bronze medal at the World Athletics Championship. Then there are chess players, golfers, weightlifters, shooters and tennis players. The haul is low, but the progress steady.
He too progresses in a vehicle among many others. Many a vehicles do not bother about the registration number. Many others display their might by special numbers like 1 and 2. But the might of the newly built road dividers are hardly visible. Shabbily built using shabby material, they are strewn all over. Nearby, new telephone cables have been laid. But the ducts have not been filled. And there is more shabbiness. And this happens everytime a telephone line is dug.
The nation's telecom industry has made great progress. The cellular companies are registering 100% annual growth. And people are surrendering their landlines (which they got after years of wait) to get mobile phones within an hour. A telecom giant - Reliance - has bid for trans-national undersea cable company FLAG. Pakistan is worried that its greatest enemy can peek into its data. But this does not stop the progress.
His progress is stopped by a rail crossing. A huge traffic jam has made his life living hell. It takes half an hour for the jam to clear after which he rushes through. A police van intercepts him and shows on an interceptor how he was overspeeding. Then he is told that the normal rate is 1600/- but he can get away with less. This the fourth or fifth time he has been intercepted by policemen. And on one pretext or other, everyone, everyone, has sought grease money. The bribery rate is 100%. No further progress is possible here. He pays the fine and seeks a challan.
But the nation is showing progress. The prestigious CAT paper is leaked and a retest is ordered. A Cabinet minister is caught on Video tape, and he promptly resigns. A World Heritage site is in the process of being damaged and a CBI enquiry is ordered. The stamp papers on which crores of rupees worth deeds have been signed have turned out to be fake. The list is endless - there are scams and scams everywhere.
He reaches his office in Gurgaon - The millenimum city. Shabby roads, open sewage drains, dust and grime greet him. There are few spanking golf courses, shopping malls, and multiplexes. But the majority of public infrastructure is nothing to write about. Parking the car, he heads for the office. The ferry for the 300m ride is taking time, and he decides to walk. A new company is being built nearby and its construction workers are busy preparing for another day. The unkempt children seek few coins. He refuses and heads for office. Taking a short cut, he uses an open field that is not used any more. Many women and children are defecating there. The intruder disturbs them and the women stop midway. He also feels embarrassed, and rushes through. Soon he will be in a multinational company making 'Quality' software for the world, software that will sport the tag 'Made in India'.
Chachu (2/12/2003)
Web Resources and Guest Columns
-------------------------------
1. 'Made in India' (http://www.indiatoday.com/itoday/20031201/cover.shtml) (Requires an access key)
2. 'India Shining' by Swapan Dasgupta (http://in.rediff.com/news/2003/nov/05swadas.htm)
3. Brand India: Time to hardsell in a global market? (http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/297020.cms)
4. Stranded Brand India (http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/297028.cms)
5. Brainy Indian in a Brave New World (http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/331046.cms)
List Managment
--------------
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Tuesday, December 02, 2003
Sunday, September 07, 2003
Chachu's Column #23: Made in Japan
(continued from CC#22..)
"What do I have to do here?" I would ask my Japanese client.
"What can you do here?" would be the terse reply.
These two questions would set the tone for the rest of my month long stay in Japan. Even after my return, when my colleagues asked the purpose of my trip, I would not be able to give them a reasonable answer. While the ambiguities over the purpose of my trip continued, the stay provided ample opportunity to have a first hand look of Japan.
The weekdays were hectic, with very little spare time to do or see anything else. The only amusement I got was my regular visits to Sega amusement centre. The centre had many coin-operated machines in which you had to move a level horizontally and vertically; the goal was to catch a soft toy in the lever using two motions of the lever. For each game, one had to put 200Yen (80Rs). I thought the game was very costly given the low probabilities of winning. I won once and put an end to such amusements. Still, not to deprive myself of these pleasures, I went there almost every second day and cheered the potential winners who tried their luck with the machine. Some of them disliked my presence in close proximity, while others cheered my cheering. Anyways, I maintained a distance so as to avoid affronting someone's privacy. Apart from game centers, there was the popular pachinko centres. These were a type of casinos, where people smoked and played like maniacs. I too made many rounds to various pachinko centers around my hotel. Despite numerous attempts, I could not understand the objective of the game. Once, I brought coins worth 500Yen (200Rs), but soon found them worthless. When I went to return the gaming coins for money, I was flatly refused. I was told that gambling was illegal in Japan and there was no way the gaming coins could be exchanged into hard cash. Some research into the subject provided interesting facts. Almost thirty million Japanese played Pachinko. Though gambling was illegal, there were means to get the loot converted into hard cash. An average pachinko centre had about 100 to 200 gaming machines. At any given time, almost seventy percent of the machines were occupied with people having tons of loot near their seat.
The first weekend saw me in Akihabara, the Electronics capital of Japan (and probably the world). My company colleagues visiting Japan felt it customary to stuff themselves with the electronic goodies offered by the country. The longer the stay, the better the stuff. A week's stay at Japan allowed one to buy a simple camera. Extend it to one month and you could pocket a digital camera. Three months stay allowed you to buy a Sony handicam. The 'Made in Japan' tag was much sought after. Japan epitomized quality and the tag 'Made in Japan' a guarantee that the stuff could be taken without much deliberation. However, much to our surprise, the Japanese superstores were flooded with goods from Malaysia, Indonesia, Korea and Taiwan. The 'Made in Japan' tag was hard to find. We later came to know the reasons. Japanese items were too costly for the ordinary Japanese. Thus, while countries like US of A savoured Japanese delicacies, we had to be content with products of Southeast Asian countries. I too brought a digital camera. Immediately, the analog camera was relegated to some remote corner of the suitcase and was not used since then. Apart from cameras and handicams, the battery-sized MP3 players were also very popular. The Japanese were seen sporting the designer headphones in the local trains.
The other end of the wire attached to the miniature MP3 player was buried deep inside the pocket. Walkmans were getting obsolete very quickly.
The second weekend saw me in Tokyo Disneyland. By train, Disneyland was an hour away from our hotel. The mass rapid transport system offered by Japanese Railway (JR) was easily one of the best in the world. The clocks could be set by using the arrival time of the trains. The frequency of trains varied from every two minutes to every twenty minutes (depending upon the hour of the day, the passenger load and direction of travel). We too used the trains to commute to our client's office. Our journey was always against the flow. In the morning, when everyone headed for Tokyo, we went in the opposite direction. Similarly, at night, when the tired souls returned to the suburbs, we moved towards Tokyo in near empty trains. The local trains, which we used, moved at speeds of 140kmph (the speed of the fastest train of India - Rajdhani). The express trains moved at twice the speeds. It was a phenomenal sight to see the express trains whiz past us while we stood on the railway platforms. The railway stations too were no less than a tourist spot.
Almost every big station had shopping malls and food courts associated with them. Multi-level railway lines were quite common, with up to 3 levels of train running one over other. All the important places were well connected by the JR network. A first time visitor was always awe struck by the efficiency with which the system worked. While I was in Japan, there was a major train accident in India. After the accident, when a senior executive of Indian Railways was quizzed about the frequent rail accidents in India, he said that Indian railways was the best in the world; just that the gigantic size made it vulnerable to occasional accidents. (Once during a rail journey when I asked my client whether there were rail accidents in Japan, he said they do occur but they were rare. I wonder what is rare? Once in six months or a year or a decade or more?)
Returning to Disneyland resort, a visit to Japan was deemed incomplete without going to the Disneyland. I added to this maxim - 'the upbringing of kids was incomplete without regular visits to Disneyland'. The resort was right next to a railway station so reaching there was not a problem. The first reaction at the sight the Disneyland resort was that of wonderment. Once inside, there was no end to fun and enjoyment. It was a weekend and it seemed the whole Japan had poured on to the resort. (While it seemed that more than a lakh person had come there, some research pointed out that the resort had 18million visitors annually. This translated into 3.5lakh persons every week or about fifty thousand daily). Even though we reached there at around nine, we knew that we would not be able to see the whole resort. The resort was divided into many areas, each catering to a particular theme, like timberland and cartoonland for example. Entry fee was about 2000 rupees and all rides inside the resort were free. Just that one did not have enough time to take all the rides. Each ride had a long queue, which was followed diligently. Despite the queues, no one bothered to jump queues or take shortcuts. Apart from the rides, long queues could be seen at every stall, be it for popcorn or for ice cream. (This aspect was
visible throughout the stay in Japan. Only once did I see two brawny men violating the queue and buying some goods. The man in front of queue was ill equipped to tackle this situation. He kept quiet. On my return, when I was in a queue for buying a ticket for a movie, I saw a parallel queue formed. I asked the last person to stand in queue; the man obliged. Then, two more
people joined the queue. When I persuaded them to form a queue, they refused. Note that this was the most happening mall to grace the land of Gurgaon. But malls did not teach civic sense, nor did money. When the line moved and I raised my voice again, the offenders were chided by the cinema staff. They then agreed to follow the queue but refused to move; they said they would wait there till their turn came. When my turn came and I purchased the ticket, they said that I was a DON. I did not reply.)
Five of us had gone to the Disneyland and since four of them had a camera, about a quarter of our time went in taking photographs. Those who had digital cameras did not bother to reload the reels. Only battery required attention. The whole day went like that - taking rides, seeing a 3D movie, standing in long queues, eating French fries and drinking coca-cola. In the afternoon at around three o'clock, there was day parade, which was quite similar to the one we have in Delhi on Republic day. From two o'clock, people spread their mats on grounds and took prime positions to watch the parade. Many of them were seen fixing their tripods to shoot photographs and movies. Since we were not the early bird, we did not get the worm. The rear
position implied that many photos got disrupted by the flowing hairs and hands of people. Nonetheless, we managed a few good photos (see web links for URL of photo uploaded on the net).
In this night too, there was a cracker show followed by a night parade. The parade saw men and chariots, decorated with lights, waltzing across the narrow course of the resort. Apart from cameras and handicam, the mobile cameras were also in vogue. (It was said that mobile cameras had provided impetus to a stagnating cellular industry. About half of the 120 million Japanese had a cell phone. Almost all phones had a coloured screen with facility to send and receive emails. The I-mode service, provide by leading operator NTT Docomo had the lion's share of the subscriber base. The third generation mobile phones too had made an entry in Japan. In fact, Japan was the first country to launch third generation mobile services.) At about ten in the night, we left Disneyland, tired and exhausted, but fully entertained.
The third weekend saw me in Odaiba, an island resort located in heart of Tokyo. The place offered huge shopping malls, a science museum, an artificial beach and plenty of food. An automatic, overhead train took us to Odaiba. There, we did some shopping, went to a museum and ate burgers and French-fries.
As time and money ran out, I decided not to go anywhere in the last weekend. Though there were temptations like Mt. Fuji, Sea paradise resort and a place that had replicas of Seven Wonders of the World, I left them for another visit to the Oriental
superpower. Luckily, the last weekend saw a major festival in our suburb. The street in front of the hotel was transformed into a mela, lined by stalls on both sides. The stalls offered noodles, see food, fruits and a host of other delicacies. There were amusements for kids who could pay a small amount to catch few fishes to keep them as pets. Then there was a parade, dance programs and groups that played excellent percussion instruments. Our hotel owner offered to be our guide. She took us to various programs, which we thoroughly enjoyed. In the festival, I desperately longed for papri-chat and gol-gappas but none could be found. I had to be content with noodles and pine-apple.
As time for my return drew nearer, I become quite excited. On the very last day of my stay, when a farewell party for my return was scheduled, the system our company delivered to our client stopped working. I could identify the location of the problem but could not solve it. The client's client was take our system back to Europe and it became very critical for the system to be up and running. Even after two hours of brainstorming did not solve the problem. Then I suggested the system be uninstalled and re-installed. The idea bore fruit and the system came up. Soon after, another problem came, which too was solved only minutes before we were to leave for our party. Sanity had been regained and we went for my farewell party.
In the party, the client wore a different demeanour. We exchanged lot of pleasantries. When the party was over and I thanked them, they said, "Come back again!"
Chachu (7/9/2003)
Through Chachu's Eyes
---------------------
** 1 ** One day I saw a truck stuck at a bend on the round. It took the loaded truck around 30hours to get it out. For no fault of his, the driver had to waste precious time and money to take the truck out. In fact, a newly built colony in Bahadurgarh has many such collapsed roads where any car or truck can get stuck very easily. I wonder what if the truck owner,
or a representative of the truck union sues the municipal corporation of Bahadurgarh.
** 2 ** Talking more about roads, the star penalty corner expert of India, Jugraj Singh, met with a very serious accident. It was said that an auto rickshaw coming from the wrong side was the cause. A small error and a colossal loss. When will things change? When will there be sanity on roads?
** 3 ** More on Japan: One morning I went to hotel's bathroom, only to find the bulb not working. I did not lodge a complaint but hoped that the bulb would be replaced. At night, when I returned from office, the bulb was replaced!
Web Resources
-------------
http://www.jinjapan.org/ (Japan Information Network)
http://www.tokyoessentials.com (Tokyo Information Guide)
Pictures from Japan
-------------------
http://skasera.tripod.com/images/japan/pic1.jpg
http://skasera.tripod.com/images/japan/pic2.jpg
http://skasera.tripod.com/images/japan/pic3.jpg
... (and so on till ... 24th image)
http://skasera.tripod.com/images/japan/pic24.jpg
Guest Articles (Interesting Reading)
-----------------------------------
http://www.rediff.com/money/2003/jul/25guest.htm (Upgrading 'Made in India')
List Managment
--------------
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"What do I have to do here?" I would ask my Japanese client.
"What can you do here?" would be the terse reply.
These two questions would set the tone for the rest of my month long stay in Japan. Even after my return, when my colleagues asked the purpose of my trip, I would not be able to give them a reasonable answer. While the ambiguities over the purpose of my trip continued, the stay provided ample opportunity to have a first hand look of Japan.
The weekdays were hectic, with very little spare time to do or see anything else. The only amusement I got was my regular visits to Sega amusement centre. The centre had many coin-operated machines in which you had to move a level horizontally and vertically; the goal was to catch a soft toy in the lever using two motions of the lever. For each game, one had to put 200Yen (80Rs). I thought the game was very costly given the low probabilities of winning. I won once and put an end to such amusements. Still, not to deprive myself of these pleasures, I went there almost every second day and cheered the potential winners who tried their luck with the machine. Some of them disliked my presence in close proximity, while others cheered my cheering. Anyways, I maintained a distance so as to avoid affronting someone's privacy. Apart from game centers, there was the popular pachinko centres. These were a type of casinos, where people smoked and played like maniacs. I too made many rounds to various pachinko centers around my hotel. Despite numerous attempts, I could not understand the objective of the game. Once, I brought coins worth 500Yen (200Rs), but soon found them worthless. When I went to return the gaming coins for money, I was flatly refused. I was told that gambling was illegal in Japan and there was no way the gaming coins could be exchanged into hard cash. Some research into the subject provided interesting facts. Almost thirty million Japanese played Pachinko. Though gambling was illegal, there were means to get the loot converted into hard cash. An average pachinko centre had about 100 to 200 gaming machines. At any given time, almost seventy percent of the machines were occupied with people having tons of loot near their seat.
The first weekend saw me in Akihabara, the Electronics capital of Japan (and probably the world). My company colleagues visiting Japan felt it customary to stuff themselves with the electronic goodies offered by the country. The longer the stay, the better the stuff. A week's stay at Japan allowed one to buy a simple camera. Extend it to one month and you could pocket a digital camera. Three months stay allowed you to buy a Sony handicam. The 'Made in Japan' tag was much sought after. Japan epitomized quality and the tag 'Made in Japan' a guarantee that the stuff could be taken without much deliberation. However, much to our surprise, the Japanese superstores were flooded with goods from Malaysia, Indonesia, Korea and Taiwan. The 'Made in Japan' tag was hard to find. We later came to know the reasons. Japanese items were too costly for the ordinary Japanese. Thus, while countries like US of A savoured Japanese delicacies, we had to be content with products of Southeast Asian countries. I too brought a digital camera. Immediately, the analog camera was relegated to some remote corner of the suitcase and was not used since then. Apart from cameras and handicams, the battery-sized MP3 players were also very popular. The Japanese were seen sporting the designer headphones in the local trains.
The other end of the wire attached to the miniature MP3 player was buried deep inside the pocket. Walkmans were getting obsolete very quickly.
The second weekend saw me in Tokyo Disneyland. By train, Disneyland was an hour away from our hotel. The mass rapid transport system offered by Japanese Railway (JR) was easily one of the best in the world. The clocks could be set by using the arrival time of the trains. The frequency of trains varied from every two minutes to every twenty minutes (depending upon the hour of the day, the passenger load and direction of travel). We too used the trains to commute to our client's office. Our journey was always against the flow. In the morning, when everyone headed for Tokyo, we went in the opposite direction. Similarly, at night, when the tired souls returned to the suburbs, we moved towards Tokyo in near empty trains. The local trains, which we used, moved at speeds of 140kmph (the speed of the fastest train of India - Rajdhani). The express trains moved at twice the speeds. It was a phenomenal sight to see the express trains whiz past us while we stood on the railway platforms. The railway stations too were no less than a tourist spot.
Almost every big station had shopping malls and food courts associated with them. Multi-level railway lines were quite common, with up to 3 levels of train running one over other. All the important places were well connected by the JR network. A first time visitor was always awe struck by the efficiency with which the system worked. While I was in Japan, there was a major train accident in India. After the accident, when a senior executive of Indian Railways was quizzed about the frequent rail accidents in India, he said that Indian railways was the best in the world; just that the gigantic size made it vulnerable to occasional accidents. (Once during a rail journey when I asked my client whether there were rail accidents in Japan, he said they do occur but they were rare. I wonder what is rare? Once in six months or a year or a decade or more?)
Returning to Disneyland resort, a visit to Japan was deemed incomplete without going to the Disneyland. I added to this maxim - 'the upbringing of kids was incomplete without regular visits to Disneyland'. The resort was right next to a railway station so reaching there was not a problem. The first reaction at the sight the Disneyland resort was that of wonderment. Once inside, there was no end to fun and enjoyment. It was a weekend and it seemed the whole Japan had poured on to the resort. (While it seemed that more than a lakh person had come there, some research pointed out that the resort had 18million visitors annually. This translated into 3.5lakh persons every week or about fifty thousand daily). Even though we reached there at around nine, we knew that we would not be able to see the whole resort. The resort was divided into many areas, each catering to a particular theme, like timberland and cartoonland for example. Entry fee was about 2000 rupees and all rides inside the resort were free. Just that one did not have enough time to take all the rides. Each ride had a long queue, which was followed diligently. Despite the queues, no one bothered to jump queues or take shortcuts. Apart from the rides, long queues could be seen at every stall, be it for popcorn or for ice cream. (This aspect was
visible throughout the stay in Japan. Only once did I see two brawny men violating the queue and buying some goods. The man in front of queue was ill equipped to tackle this situation. He kept quiet. On my return, when I was in a queue for buying a ticket for a movie, I saw a parallel queue formed. I asked the last person to stand in queue; the man obliged. Then, two more
people joined the queue. When I persuaded them to form a queue, they refused. Note that this was the most happening mall to grace the land of Gurgaon. But malls did not teach civic sense, nor did money. When the line moved and I raised my voice again, the offenders were chided by the cinema staff. They then agreed to follow the queue but refused to move; they said they would wait there till their turn came. When my turn came and I purchased the ticket, they said that I was a DON. I did not reply.)
Five of us had gone to the Disneyland and since four of them had a camera, about a quarter of our time went in taking photographs. Those who had digital cameras did not bother to reload the reels. Only battery required attention. The whole day went like that - taking rides, seeing a 3D movie, standing in long queues, eating French fries and drinking coca-cola. In the afternoon at around three o'clock, there was day parade, which was quite similar to the one we have in Delhi on Republic day. From two o'clock, people spread their mats on grounds and took prime positions to watch the parade. Many of them were seen fixing their tripods to shoot photographs and movies. Since we were not the early bird, we did not get the worm. The rear
position implied that many photos got disrupted by the flowing hairs and hands of people. Nonetheless, we managed a few good photos (see web links for URL of photo uploaded on the net).
In this night too, there was a cracker show followed by a night parade. The parade saw men and chariots, decorated with lights, waltzing across the narrow course of the resort. Apart from cameras and handicam, the mobile cameras were also in vogue. (It was said that mobile cameras had provided impetus to a stagnating cellular industry. About half of the 120 million Japanese had a cell phone. Almost all phones had a coloured screen with facility to send and receive emails. The I-mode service, provide by leading operator NTT Docomo had the lion's share of the subscriber base. The third generation mobile phones too had made an entry in Japan. In fact, Japan was the first country to launch third generation mobile services.) At about ten in the night, we left Disneyland, tired and exhausted, but fully entertained.
The third weekend saw me in Odaiba, an island resort located in heart of Tokyo. The place offered huge shopping malls, a science museum, an artificial beach and plenty of food. An automatic, overhead train took us to Odaiba. There, we did some shopping, went to a museum and ate burgers and French-fries.
As time and money ran out, I decided not to go anywhere in the last weekend. Though there were temptations like Mt. Fuji, Sea paradise resort and a place that had replicas of Seven Wonders of the World, I left them for another visit to the Oriental
superpower. Luckily, the last weekend saw a major festival in our suburb. The street in front of the hotel was transformed into a mela, lined by stalls on both sides. The stalls offered noodles, see food, fruits and a host of other delicacies. There were amusements for kids who could pay a small amount to catch few fishes to keep them as pets. Then there was a parade, dance programs and groups that played excellent percussion instruments. Our hotel owner offered to be our guide. She took us to various programs, which we thoroughly enjoyed. In the festival, I desperately longed for papri-chat and gol-gappas but none could be found. I had to be content with noodles and pine-apple.
As time for my return drew nearer, I become quite excited. On the very last day of my stay, when a farewell party for my return was scheduled, the system our company delivered to our client stopped working. I could identify the location of the problem but could not solve it. The client's client was take our system back to Europe and it became very critical for the system to be up and running. Even after two hours of brainstorming did not solve the problem. Then I suggested the system be uninstalled and re-installed. The idea bore fruit and the system came up. Soon after, another problem came, which too was solved only minutes before we were to leave for our party. Sanity had been regained and we went for my farewell party.
In the party, the client wore a different demeanour. We exchanged lot of pleasantries. When the party was over and I thanked them, they said, "Come back again!"
Chachu (7/9/2003)
Through Chachu's Eyes
---------------------
** 1 ** One day I saw a truck stuck at a bend on the round. It took the loaded truck around 30hours to get it out. For no fault of his, the driver had to waste precious time and money to take the truck out. In fact, a newly built colony in Bahadurgarh has many such collapsed roads where any car or truck can get stuck very easily. I wonder what if the truck owner,
or a representative of the truck union sues the municipal corporation of Bahadurgarh.
** 2 ** Talking more about roads, the star penalty corner expert of India, Jugraj Singh, met with a very serious accident. It was said that an auto rickshaw coming from the wrong side was the cause. A small error and a colossal loss. When will things change? When will there be sanity on roads?
** 3 ** More on Japan: One morning I went to hotel's bathroom, only to find the bulb not working. I did not lodge a complaint but hoped that the bulb would be replaced. At night, when I returned from office, the bulb was replaced!
Web Resources
-------------
http://www.jinjapan.org/ (Japan Information Network)
http://www.tokyoessentials.com (Tokyo Information Guide)
Pictures from Japan
-------------------
http://skasera.tripod.com/images/japan/pic1.jpg
http://skasera.tripod.com/images/japan/pic2.jpg
http://skasera.tripod.com/images/japan/pic3.jpg
... (and so on till ... 24th image)
http://skasera.tripod.com/images/japan/pic24.jpg
Guest Articles (Interesting Reading)
-----------------------------------
http://www.rediff.com/money/2003/jul/25guest.htm (Upgrading 'Made in India')
List Managment
--------------
To subscribe, send a blank email to chachus_pen-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
To unsubscribe, send a blank email to chachus_pen-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com
Thursday, July 24, 2003
Chachu's Column #22: Chachu in Japan
It was almost like a curse in my life. The refrains were endless - 'Five years and not even one?' It was not that I did not want to. Just that one thing or the other held up the inevitable. So when I finally got the news, I knew the event could not be delayed any further, whatever be the impediments.
It all began when I reached office on a Monday morning - the mind still wandering in the weekend's festivities. Lethargically reading my emails, I came across an email from our client "Dear Sumit-san, Find attached invitation letter for your visa..." My heart skipped a beat. There was no prior information - no prelude. Just pack your bags and head for Japan - that too in 6 days time.
But one had to have a passport for going abroad. Although I had one, there was a small issue. The passport number punched on the passport was different from the one written on the front page. I was in a state of flux. Which number was the correct passport number? I didn't know. Would they allow me to use that passport? I didn't know. What to do? I didn't know. I sought help and was promptly asked to go to the Regional Passport Office (RPO), New Delhi.
The Tuesday morning saw me braving one of the most horrible traffic Jams to reach passport office. Once there, I found people screaming and shouting and hollering all around. Where to go? I didn't know. Even the Inquiry counter had a long queue. Scanning the office for some help, I found an empty counter dedicated for Haryana region. Since I resided in Haryana, I attacked the counter. I was directed to go
to first floor. On the first floor, I handed my passport to the person concerned - a gentleman sitting in an AC room. The man talked to me reasonably and my complaint was noted. I was asked to collect my passport from counter number 5 in the evening between 4.30 and 5.00. I left the room but then I realized I had not got any receipt. What if they gave my passport to someone else? My maiden foreign trip, that too after five years of wait, would have died a premature death. I went to the gentleman's room again. The man allayed my fears and said that the photo on the passport would be good enough. 'Could someone else collect on my behalf?' I asked. The answer was in the negative.
The afternoon saw me at the RPO office again at 4.28pm. The office was closed and there was a big crowd outside. As soon as the clock struck 4.30pm, the gate opened and the gathered mass rushed inside. In the melee, I too dashed inside. Once there, I did not know where to go. There were three counters numbered 3to5. Which one was number 5? No one could tell. Every one standing there seemed equally confused.
While we waited and the revered RPO employees had their cup of team, the people in the queue started narrating their stories. One of the ladies was called at 12.00 noon. She came only to find the office closed. The poor lady waited for over four hours in the sun. Another person waiting for his passport was asked to fill a new application form only to find the passport delivered the very next day. There were many stories floating around. Around 5pm, the RPO gods gave their worshippers a glimpse and started doling out passports. The man had a list of letters along with the corrected passport. For every person standing in the queue the bunch of letters had to be scanned again and again. When my turn came, I said that my passport was at the end. He saw the last letter but it was not mine. I was reprimanded, "Either you see or let me do my business." I kept quiet, but thought "Oh! powerful lord, the holder of my passport, my gateway to foreign land, be gentle on a poor soul and be kind enough to give him his passport." The almighty then found my passport lying just above the last one and gave it to me. I clasped it tightly, lest it fall along with my trip.
The next few days went in filling various forms for visa, foreign exchange and insurance, and then getting the Visa. Everything went as per plan and I left India on Sunday, 29th June. The eight-and-a-half hour JAL flight saw me in Japan on Monday morning. During the course of journey, I lost three-and-a-half hours. For once, I wonder what if every country adopted the Greenwich Mean Time (GMT). Then, the trouble of changing time and having to manage multiple clocks could be obviated. As a software engineer how this could be technically managed. For the western countries, it would have meant jumping ahead in time, implying paying interest for the time that had actually not transpired. Gauging the complexity of the idea, I dropped it.
At the airport, the SARS scare had not yet subsided. I was asked to fill a SARS questionnaire and was made to pass through a device that monitored by body temperature. The SARS matter settled, a long queue greeted me at the immigration counter. About 150 people in the queue implied at least two hours of
wait. But the first glimpse of the dexterity of Japanese people was displayed when the queue got cleared in no time.
We then brought tickets for a Limousine bus for our hotel, which was to leave the airport in two hours time. When about half an hour remained, I asked the lady concerned when the bus arrived and whether I could sit earlier. In the part-English, part-Japanese conversation that I had, I was informed that the bus would come and leave at 11.05am sharp. Two minutes before scheduled time the bus came. By that time, a gentleman had arranged our baggage. When the bus arrived, he put the baggage in the bus and checked our tickets. All settled, the six odd people left for Kashiwa - a suburb of Tokyo - and our destination.
The bus was air-conditioned and quite comfortable (as I later found out that all buses and cars and trains in Japan are). During the whole two-hour journey, the driver honked only once, that too when a scooterist came too close to the bus. Otherwise, the traffic was very well managed, and there was no need of any horns. The disappointing aspect of the journey was large number of traffic signals and frequent stoppages. The roads too were very narrow, generally one lane for each way. However, they were well marked - with zebra crossings - and traffic signals for the pedestrians too.
For any repair carried at a site, a signboard stating 'Men at Work' was placed 100meters before the site. A similar sign was placed 50m before. The repair site was either properly cordoned off or well-dressed police officers managed smooth flow of traffic.
The end of our journey saw us at out destined hotel - a place where some of my colleagues were already staying. However, all this happened with a minor glitch. The hotel was half a kilometer away from the bus terminal. Since I had lot of baggage, I needed a taxi. But none could be seen. After ten minutes of painful walk, when I saw a taxi stop and asked the first taxi to go, the person refused to go. The next one in the queue followed suit and the third one asked me to talk to the two taxis in front. Without any option, I walked to the hotel, sweating and panting.
The hotel room was small- about 9feet by 6feet - with a small, attached bath. The room had a TV, a fridge and a VCR (I later learnt that Japanese either used DVD or Video Cassettes, but no VCDs). When I had kept my bag and was wondering about my lunch, a colleague of mine called me and said my client was on the phone in his room. I had just landed in Japan, but the professional commitments had already began... (to be continued..)
Chachu (24/7/2003)
Through Chachu's Eyes
---------------------
** 1 ** While seeing off a relative at the New Delhi railway station, I saw that two watches at two ends of the platform showed two different times - about twenty minutes apart. Since the train in which my relative was travelling left right on time, I wondered what if someone did not have a watch (as many in India do not have) and checked the time using the clock that was lagging behind. The person would have surely missed his train.
** 2 ** Talking more about trains, I wonder why they dont make any announcement about the arrival of
stations or departures for the benefit of those travelling and those who have come to see people off.
** 3 ** Yet more on trains, I saw a gentleman standing outside the train. His friend, who had come to drop him, urged him to sit inside. But the man refused to go, saying that he was an expert in getting up on moving trains. The man then boasted how his father used to get down at stations and catch a short nap
when the train used to stop at a station for twenty minutes or so. And when the sleeping father was called by desperate wife and children, the man used to shut them by asking them to mind their own business. His son boarded the train only when it had started moving. In the process, the family tradition was kept intact, albeit in a mild form.
Web Resources
-------------
http://www.sciam.com/article.cfm?colID=13&articleID=000007F0-6DBD-1ED9-8E1C809EC588EF21 (the story of bottled water in US)
http://www.littlemag.com (online version of "TheLittle Magazine")
Guest Articles (Interesting Reading)
-----------------------------------
http://economictimes.indiatimes.com/cms.dll/xml/uncomp/articleshow?msid=92161
("In search of excellence in India")
http://www.rediff.com/news/2003/jul/22diary.htm ("Soldier's God" contributed by Ashish Monga)
List Managment
--------------
To subscribe, send a blank email to chachus_pen-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
To unsubscribe, send a blank email to chachus_pen-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com
It all began when I reached office on a Monday morning - the mind still wandering in the weekend's festivities. Lethargically reading my emails, I came across an email from our client "Dear Sumit-san, Find attached invitation letter for your visa..." My heart skipped a beat. There was no prior information - no prelude. Just pack your bags and head for Japan - that too in 6 days time.
But one had to have a passport for going abroad. Although I had one, there was a small issue. The passport number punched on the passport was different from the one written on the front page. I was in a state of flux. Which number was the correct passport number? I didn't know. Would they allow me to use that passport? I didn't know. What to do? I didn't know. I sought help and was promptly asked to go to the Regional Passport Office (RPO), New Delhi.
The Tuesday morning saw me braving one of the most horrible traffic Jams to reach passport office. Once there, I found people screaming and shouting and hollering all around. Where to go? I didn't know. Even the Inquiry counter had a long queue. Scanning the office for some help, I found an empty counter dedicated for Haryana region. Since I resided in Haryana, I attacked the counter. I was directed to go
to first floor. On the first floor, I handed my passport to the person concerned - a gentleman sitting in an AC room. The man talked to me reasonably and my complaint was noted. I was asked to collect my passport from counter number 5 in the evening between 4.30 and 5.00. I left the room but then I realized I had not got any receipt. What if they gave my passport to someone else? My maiden foreign trip, that too after five years of wait, would have died a premature death. I went to the gentleman's room again. The man allayed my fears and said that the photo on the passport would be good enough. 'Could someone else collect on my behalf?' I asked. The answer was in the negative.
The afternoon saw me at the RPO office again at 4.28pm. The office was closed and there was a big crowd outside. As soon as the clock struck 4.30pm, the gate opened and the gathered mass rushed inside. In the melee, I too dashed inside. Once there, I did not know where to go. There were three counters numbered 3to5. Which one was number 5? No one could tell. Every one standing there seemed equally confused.
While we waited and the revered RPO employees had their cup of team, the people in the queue started narrating their stories. One of the ladies was called at 12.00 noon. She came only to find the office closed. The poor lady waited for over four hours in the sun. Another person waiting for his passport was asked to fill a new application form only to find the passport delivered the very next day. There were many stories floating around. Around 5pm, the RPO gods gave their worshippers a glimpse and started doling out passports. The man had a list of letters along with the corrected passport. For every person standing in the queue the bunch of letters had to be scanned again and again. When my turn came, I said that my passport was at the end. He saw the last letter but it was not mine. I was reprimanded, "Either you see or let me do my business." I kept quiet, but thought "Oh! powerful lord, the holder of my passport, my gateway to foreign land, be gentle on a poor soul and be kind enough to give him his passport." The almighty then found my passport lying just above the last one and gave it to me. I clasped it tightly, lest it fall along with my trip.
The next few days went in filling various forms for visa, foreign exchange and insurance, and then getting the Visa. Everything went as per plan and I left India on Sunday, 29th June. The eight-and-a-half hour JAL flight saw me in Japan on Monday morning. During the course of journey, I lost three-and-a-half hours. For once, I wonder what if every country adopted the Greenwich Mean Time (GMT). Then, the trouble of changing time and having to manage multiple clocks could be obviated. As a software engineer how this could be technically managed. For the western countries, it would have meant jumping ahead in time, implying paying interest for the time that had actually not transpired. Gauging the complexity of the idea, I dropped it.
At the airport, the SARS scare had not yet subsided. I was asked to fill a SARS questionnaire and was made to pass through a device that monitored by body temperature. The SARS matter settled, a long queue greeted me at the immigration counter. About 150 people in the queue implied at least two hours of
wait. But the first glimpse of the dexterity of Japanese people was displayed when the queue got cleared in no time.
We then brought tickets for a Limousine bus for our hotel, which was to leave the airport in two hours time. When about half an hour remained, I asked the lady concerned when the bus arrived and whether I could sit earlier. In the part-English, part-Japanese conversation that I had, I was informed that the bus would come and leave at 11.05am sharp. Two minutes before scheduled time the bus came. By that time, a gentleman had arranged our baggage. When the bus arrived, he put the baggage in the bus and checked our tickets. All settled, the six odd people left for Kashiwa - a suburb of Tokyo - and our destination.
The bus was air-conditioned and quite comfortable (as I later found out that all buses and cars and trains in Japan are). During the whole two-hour journey, the driver honked only once, that too when a scooterist came too close to the bus. Otherwise, the traffic was very well managed, and there was no need of any horns. The disappointing aspect of the journey was large number of traffic signals and frequent stoppages. The roads too were very narrow, generally one lane for each way. However, they were well marked - with zebra crossings - and traffic signals for the pedestrians too.
For any repair carried at a site, a signboard stating 'Men at Work' was placed 100meters before the site. A similar sign was placed 50m before. The repair site was either properly cordoned off or well-dressed police officers managed smooth flow of traffic.
The end of our journey saw us at out destined hotel - a place where some of my colleagues were already staying. However, all this happened with a minor glitch. The hotel was half a kilometer away from the bus terminal. Since I had lot of baggage, I needed a taxi. But none could be seen. After ten minutes of painful walk, when I saw a taxi stop and asked the first taxi to go, the person refused to go. The next one in the queue followed suit and the third one asked me to talk to the two taxis in front. Without any option, I walked to the hotel, sweating and panting.
The hotel room was small- about 9feet by 6feet - with a small, attached bath. The room had a TV, a fridge and a VCR (I later learnt that Japanese either used DVD or Video Cassettes, but no VCDs). When I had kept my bag and was wondering about my lunch, a colleague of mine called me and said my client was on the phone in his room. I had just landed in Japan, but the professional commitments had already began... (to be continued..)
Chachu (24/7/2003)
Through Chachu's Eyes
---------------------
** 1 ** While seeing off a relative at the New Delhi railway station, I saw that two watches at two ends of the platform showed two different times - about twenty minutes apart. Since the train in which my relative was travelling left right on time, I wondered what if someone did not have a watch (as many in India do not have) and checked the time using the clock that was lagging behind. The person would have surely missed his train.
** 2 ** Talking more about trains, I wonder why they dont make any announcement about the arrival of
stations or departures for the benefit of those travelling and those who have come to see people off.
** 3 ** Yet more on trains, I saw a gentleman standing outside the train. His friend, who had come to drop him, urged him to sit inside. But the man refused to go, saying that he was an expert in getting up on moving trains. The man then boasted how his father used to get down at stations and catch a short nap
when the train used to stop at a station for twenty minutes or so. And when the sleeping father was called by desperate wife and children, the man used to shut them by asking them to mind their own business. His son boarded the train only when it had started moving. In the process, the family tradition was kept intact, albeit in a mild form.
Web Resources
-------------
http://www.sciam.com/article.cfm?colID=13&articleID=000007F0-6DBD-1ED9-8E1C809EC588EF21 (the story of bottled water in US)
http://www.littlemag.com (online version of "TheLittle Magazine")
Guest Articles (Interesting Reading)
-----------------------------------
http://economictimes.indiatimes.com/cms.dll/xml/uncomp/articleshow?msid=92161
("In search of excellence in India")
http://www.rediff.com/news/2003/jul/22diary.htm ("Soldier's God" contributed by Ashish Monga)
List Managment
--------------
To subscribe, send a blank email to chachus_pen-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
To unsubscribe, send a blank email to chachus_pen-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com
Saturday, June 14, 2003
Chachu’s Column #21: Revisiting Court Martial
Browsing a popular website for my daily dose of news, I came across the headline "CRPF jawan kills 2 colleagues in Srinagar". Purportedly, the reason for this shootout was "tremendous stress on the Jawan in the course of his work".
This incident came close on hills of another incident in which a Central Industrial Security Force (CISF) constable Raj Namdeo shot dead his deputy commandant A. R. Karanjkar and took six hostages (including five women) at Mumbai Airport. Presumably, Namdeo was stressed out by his 14-hour work schedule and was seriously annoyed by Karanjkar who had denied him leave.
These two incidents reminded me of a play, "Court Martial", which I had directed when I was in college. An excellent play written by Swadesh DeepakJi, "Court Martial" is a story of a Jawan Ram Chander who is tried in a murder case. His crime: he had shot two senior army officers, killing one of them and seriously injuring the other. And all this to protect his badly bruised self-esteem. A Court Martial is set to investigate and decide upon the crime. The Court Room is presided by a war-veteran Colonel Surat Singh who has been witness to many 'life-and-death' situations. But this trial puts him in a queer position so far unknown to him and during the course of interrogation he realizes that the issues at stake are much larger than meet the eye. At the end of it all, he sentences the Jawan to death sentence. However, the almighty also plays its part and forces the actual culprit to.....
The play has special memories to me as not only had I directed the play, I had also enacted the key role of Bikash Roy in the play. During the practice sessions, memorizing the long dialogues of Bikash Roy had proved to be an arduous task. And while I kept reproaching everyone for failing to memorize the dialogues, I proved to be the biggest stumbling block. My sore and allergy-prone throat did not help the cause a bit. During the second last day of practice, one of the actors walked out, leaving us in a rather precarious position. Somehow a substitute was managed (who later turned out to be much better than the original one). On the last day of practice, my fellow cast could not digest the music piece (a Robert Miles composition from the album Dreamland) that I had selected for the climax. However, I took a risk and stood by my selection.
On the eventful day, from the very start of play I felt as though the character had entered my body - I ceased to be Chachu anymore. What followed was an excellent performance by our team. And when we bagged all the top honours, included Best Play, Best Director, Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor, no one was surprised. That was my first big success in the world of theatre. There after I staged many good and
bad plays. With the end of my graduation, the theatre also took back seat.
Many years after I had staged the play, I put a small write up about the play on my website (http://skasera.tripod.com/courtmartial.htm). That page, along with many others, captured my chequered past. Slowly, the play had ceased to exist in my life barring occasional memories of glory and ecstasy.
One fine day, I received an email from a gentleman who commended my effort of putting a write up of the play on my website. He, in fact, had taken a printout of the web page and had gifted it to the "Swadesh DeepakJi" - the writer of the play . The gentleman turned out to be the brother of the writer. He even took the effort of sending me free copies of the play "Court Martial" (which incidentally I had lost) and few other works of "Swadesh DeepakJi".
Occasionally, I get the urge of staging a play in my company - especially because it has been four years since I have stepped my foot on the world of drama.
Dramatics apart, the essence of the play "Court Martial" and the problems highlighted by it are still pertinent. And still we are witness to acts where a subordinate shoots his supervisor. The episode forces me to make three points. The first point is about the deep-rooted stratification of the society - be it on the caste lines, or on the basis of economic might or even on the basis of religion. I made this might, albeit a bit differently in an earlier column:
"Thy do not have a voice,
so thy will suffer,
the weak will meekly yield to the powerful,
those who can kill, will,
this is nothing new,
but thy protest, 'Aren't we not civilized -
At least we proclaim so?'
Laws are made,
presumably,
but are they followed,
thy do not have an answer."
The aforementioned lines tell us all. The lines also lead us to the second point. In a nation where the weak hardly have a voice, it is imperative that the society functions according to "Rule of law". But the utter disregard to laws, the complete breakdown of the judiciary, and inept and corrupt police department provides no hope to the ordinary citizen. In fact, the inefficacy of the Judiciary was admitted by none other than the Solicitor General of India Soli Sorabjee. As I drive across the Delhi roads and see people, almost in a majority, brazenly break all laws under the earth - be it red light jumping, wrong-side driving and overloading to cite a few examples. My heart laments at my helplessness and I have plenty of company. But alas! no solution is in sight, not even remotely.
The third point leads us to a different path: that of providing a humane working environment to all those, be it those defending the country's border in Siachen, or those constructing building in the sweltering heat of Delhi. Here again, since I have no solution, I will let the readers to ponder from here...
Chachu (14/6/2003)
Web Resources
-------------
http://www.rediff.com/news/2003/jun/09jk.htm
http://www.rediff.com/news/2003/may/24mum1.htm
http://www.rediff.com/news/2003/may/30mum.htm
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/cms.dll/html/uncomp/articleshow?msid=8437
http://skasera.tripod.com/courtmartial.htm
Through Chachu's Eyes
---------------------
** 1 ** It was heard that the "Freedom" bike had provided a major boost to the sales of two-wheel manufacter LML. The bike offers a host of features, which I am not aware of. What I do know is that the bike also offers the rider the freedom from displaying his registeration number on the rear number plate - the word "FREEDOM" is used instead. This may not be a regular feature, but those above law do display their freedom from such trivialities like registration numbers.
** 2 ** While some display their "FREEDOM", few others (in fact many others) are not so obliging. For them, a blank plate is suffice. Long live democracy and long live the inspector regime.
** 3 ** Times of India is running a series in its newspaper as to how sports is not making much progress in the country. While the introspection is on, the Punjab goverment has announced a pension of Rs 600/- for not-so-successful sportsmen to Rs 1000/- for the successful one. What if my today's outing with my wife on a movie, cola and lunch was more than 600/-. The subsequent shopping binge notwithstanding.
** 4 ** On my way to office, there is road adjoining which there is a factory which provides raw material for contstruction of roads. Just that some of the material could be made in improving the road to the factory. A perfect case of "Diya Tale Andhera" you may say.
List Managment
--------------
To subscribe, send a blank email to chachus_pen-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
To unsubscribe, send a blank email to chachus_pen-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com
This incident came close on hills of another incident in which a Central Industrial Security Force (CISF) constable Raj Namdeo shot dead his deputy commandant A. R. Karanjkar and took six hostages (including five women) at Mumbai Airport. Presumably, Namdeo was stressed out by his 14-hour work schedule and was seriously annoyed by Karanjkar who had denied him leave.
These two incidents reminded me of a play, "Court Martial", which I had directed when I was in college. An excellent play written by Swadesh DeepakJi, "Court Martial" is a story of a Jawan Ram Chander who is tried in a murder case. His crime: he had shot two senior army officers, killing one of them and seriously injuring the other. And all this to protect his badly bruised self-esteem. A Court Martial is set to investigate and decide upon the crime. The Court Room is presided by a war-veteran Colonel Surat Singh who has been witness to many 'life-and-death' situations. But this trial puts him in a queer position so far unknown to him and during the course of interrogation he realizes that the issues at stake are much larger than meet the eye. At the end of it all, he sentences the Jawan to death sentence. However, the almighty also plays its part and forces the actual culprit to.....
The play has special memories to me as not only had I directed the play, I had also enacted the key role of Bikash Roy in the play. During the practice sessions, memorizing the long dialogues of Bikash Roy had proved to be an arduous task. And while I kept reproaching everyone for failing to memorize the dialogues, I proved to be the biggest stumbling block. My sore and allergy-prone throat did not help the cause a bit. During the second last day of practice, one of the actors walked out, leaving us in a rather precarious position. Somehow a substitute was managed (who later turned out to be much better than the original one). On the last day of practice, my fellow cast could not digest the music piece (a Robert Miles composition from the album Dreamland) that I had selected for the climax. However, I took a risk and stood by my selection.
On the eventful day, from the very start of play I felt as though the character had entered my body - I ceased to be Chachu anymore. What followed was an excellent performance by our team. And when we bagged all the top honours, included Best Play, Best Director, Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor, no one was surprised. That was my first big success in the world of theatre. There after I staged many good and
bad plays. With the end of my graduation, the theatre also took back seat.
Many years after I had staged the play, I put a small write up about the play on my website (http://skasera.tripod.com/courtmartial.htm). That page, along with many others, captured my chequered past. Slowly, the play had ceased to exist in my life barring occasional memories of glory and ecstasy.
One fine day, I received an email from a gentleman who commended my effort of putting a write up of the play on my website. He, in fact, had taken a printout of the web page and had gifted it to the "Swadesh DeepakJi" - the writer of the play . The gentleman turned out to be the brother of the writer. He even took the effort of sending me free copies of the play "Court Martial" (which incidentally I had lost) and few other works of "Swadesh DeepakJi".
Occasionally, I get the urge of staging a play in my company - especially because it has been four years since I have stepped my foot on the world of drama.
Dramatics apart, the essence of the play "Court Martial" and the problems highlighted by it are still pertinent. And still we are witness to acts where a subordinate shoots his supervisor. The episode forces me to make three points. The first point is about the deep-rooted stratification of the society - be it on the caste lines, or on the basis of economic might or even on the basis of religion. I made this might, albeit a bit differently in an earlier column:
"Thy do not have a voice,
so thy will suffer,
the weak will meekly yield to the powerful,
those who can kill, will,
this is nothing new,
but thy protest, 'Aren't we not civilized -
At least we proclaim so?'
Laws are made,
presumably,
but are they followed,
thy do not have an answer."
The aforementioned lines tell us all. The lines also lead us to the second point. In a nation where the weak hardly have a voice, it is imperative that the society functions according to "Rule of law". But the utter disregard to laws, the complete breakdown of the judiciary, and inept and corrupt police department provides no hope to the ordinary citizen. In fact, the inefficacy of the Judiciary was admitted by none other than the Solicitor General of India Soli Sorabjee. As I drive across the Delhi roads and see people, almost in a majority, brazenly break all laws under the earth - be it red light jumping, wrong-side driving and overloading to cite a few examples. My heart laments at my helplessness and I have plenty of company. But alas! no solution is in sight, not even remotely.
The third point leads us to a different path: that of providing a humane working environment to all those, be it those defending the country's border in Siachen, or those constructing building in the sweltering heat of Delhi. Here again, since I have no solution, I will let the readers to ponder from here...
Chachu (14/6/2003)
Web Resources
-------------
http://www.rediff.com/news/2003/jun/09jk.htm
http://www.rediff.com/news/2003/may/24mum1.htm
http://www.rediff.com/news/2003/may/30mum.htm
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/cms.dll/html/uncomp/articleshow?msid=8437
http://skasera.tripod.com/courtmartial.htm
Through Chachu's Eyes
---------------------
** 1 ** It was heard that the "Freedom" bike had provided a major boost to the sales of two-wheel manufacter LML. The bike offers a host of features, which I am not aware of. What I do know is that the bike also offers the rider the freedom from displaying his registeration number on the rear number plate - the word "FREEDOM" is used instead. This may not be a regular feature, but those above law do display their freedom from such trivialities like registration numbers.
** 2 ** While some display their "FREEDOM", few others (in fact many others) are not so obliging. For them, a blank plate is suffice. Long live democracy and long live the inspector regime.
** 3 ** Times of India is running a series in its newspaper as to how sports is not making much progress in the country. While the introspection is on, the Punjab goverment has announced a pension of Rs 600/- for not-so-successful sportsmen to Rs 1000/- for the successful one. What if my today's outing with my wife on a movie, cola and lunch was more than 600/-. The subsequent shopping binge notwithstanding.
** 4 ** On my way to office, there is road adjoining which there is a factory which provides raw material for contstruction of roads. Just that some of the material could be made in improving the road to the factory. A perfect case of "Diya Tale Andhera" you may say.
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Sunday, March 30, 2003
Chachu’s Column #20: In the Land of Small Things
Lot of small things happen in our daily lives that usually go unnoticed. This column is an attempt to share few such observations with you. Nothing earth shattering or thought provoking - Just few tits and bits. Comments/Experiences are welcome from all.
* Some two three years ago I observed that certain roads had white lines marked on them using chalk powder. When I first observed them, I found the practice quite amusing. Ever since, I have noticed that this practice is quite pervasive and widespread. The lines are made purportedly to guide the traffic. But do these really serve any puropse ? The chalk powder lines are sure to disappear in a day or two. Wouldn't it be better if the lane endings and left/right turns are permanently marked using yellow paint? No one gives me an answer. All I can fathom is that the practice keeps unskilled persons occupied - at whatever costs...
* Another peculiar practice I observed was Tempo/lorry drivers gesticulating at the drivers of oncoming Tempo/lorry. When I first saw it, I thought it was just an exercise to loosen the arms. But on constant observation I found that there was a well-established protocol for communication. This was tricky because the communication took place within a few seconds. While the exact language is beyond my understanding, the crux of the matter is that drivers gesticulate to find out if there is any police checking going on ahead and whether there is a need to change the route to avoid the inspectors....
* Talking about checks, a drive to curb air pollution around a year back deserves an award or too. A month before the drive was scheduled to begin, the newspapers ads started threatening of the dire consequences if drivers did not have a valid air pollution certificate. As the deadline approached, people started getting panicky. On the fateful day when the checks were to being, serpentine queues were
visible in front of pollution check centers. That too when the PUC center had not yet opened. The queue reminded us of the old days when people thronged before cinema halls to get the first show ticket of a Big B starrer. Or for that matter, to get the more mundane kerosene oil. Anyways, the farce of longs queues at the PUC centers continued when people started realizing that the threat was a hoax call and no one was really worried about the pollution as the ads had claimed to be. Once the realization dawned, the queues dwindled, but not before hundreds of centers to check pollution mushroomed along the national highways leading to Delhi. The PUC centers are still seen with a checking device and a battery.
* This is not the last in pollution. Starting 1st april, certain technological advancements have been made in pollution checks. Now, the PUC certificate must also contain a photo of the car along with the date of the pollution check. This is to avoid fake certificates. Once, when I went to a PUC center, the owner was not present. His deputy did not know how to operate the device. Despite this, a pollution
certificate was promptly issued to me. Long live money....
* If this is not enough, I wonder why I still dont know what are the acceptable levels of pollution. And what do I do if my car is polluting ? Get my car's engine tuned. And even then if the pollution is not under control, what do I do? Throw the car...
* Talking about queues and waiting lists, it was not long ago when the number of years one had to wait for a telephone connection was a fashion statement. But that was before the telecom industry was freed from the shackles of gigantic monopolies. Now mobile connectivity is obtained in hours. But the queue has not yet disappeared, albeit the queue is of people surrendering their telephone lines to get a Reliance phone or a cellular...
* Once I was driving to my office when I found a broken bed on the road. Nearby, a cart puller was standing with another bed on his hand-pulled cart. It was evident that the bed had fallen from the cart and had broken into pieces. I wonder who will foot the bill of the broken bed? The buyer who had not yet received his bed? Or the carpenter who had made the bed? Or the poor cart puller whose cart could not
carry the bed to its destination? Or was it that the bed was insured and the insurance company was going to foot the bill...
* In a recent travel by Rajdhani train, I was pleased to see that the toilets had liquid soap. Soaps in public bathrooms are an item of luxury. Even in our school days, the school children used soil instead of soap to clean the hands. The sale of paper soap in the trains vindicates the fact that toilets in train are not meant to have soaps. However, the travel in Rajdhani proved to be an exception. The vendors selling paper soaps were nowhere to be seen. And liquid soap in the toilets was brimful. This is a different issue that the liquid soap was more of liquid and less of soap. A step made nonetheless...
* Service tax on many items was imposed in this budget. Thus there has been a flurry of ads exhorting businessmen providing specific services to pay their service tax. The first part of the ad threatens the businessmen of dire consequences on non-payment of taxes. There is a change in tenor in the second part of the ad where an appeal is made to the businessmen to pay their taxes and contribute towards the nation. I wonder who is this nation? And what does the nation do with the contribution. Most importantly, why should I contribute towards it until I am forced to do so?
* In "Chachu's Column #13: Of Roads, Rails, and Safety", I had mentioned how a speed breaker extends only half the breadth and how it proves to be a big traffic hazard. After writing the column, I wondered whether my part was over given that the speed breaker remained half complete, forcing motorists to drive on wrong side. I also wondered whether anyone would ever take note of the hazard. Some few days back I was pleased to see that the speed breaker was extended so as to cover the complete road. The act provided that finally someone had displayed some civic sense. However, my joy was short-lived. On the very same day while returning from office, I found the poor quality construction getting washed away by the traffic. Only the debris remained on the sides of the road. The debris still remains and no fresh effort has been made to remedy the situation.
* Talking about speed breaker, some four years ago there were around 30 of them on my way to office. As more people wanted the buses to stop in front of their houses fresh speed breakers were built. However, when a major stretch of road was resurfaced, many of the breakers got buried under the layer of coal tar. Those breakers genuinely required to break speed also got buried. The lack of coordination between various bodies had at least one benefit. At last count, the number of speed breakers hovered around 25.
There are more stories to share but some other time...
Enjoy.
Chachu 30/3/2003
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* Some two three years ago I observed that certain roads had white lines marked on them using chalk powder. When I first observed them, I found the practice quite amusing. Ever since, I have noticed that this practice is quite pervasive and widespread. The lines are made purportedly to guide the traffic. But do these really serve any puropse ? The chalk powder lines are sure to disappear in a day or two. Wouldn't it be better if the lane endings and left/right turns are permanently marked using yellow paint? No one gives me an answer. All I can fathom is that the practice keeps unskilled persons occupied - at whatever costs...
* Another peculiar practice I observed was Tempo/lorry drivers gesticulating at the drivers of oncoming Tempo/lorry. When I first saw it, I thought it was just an exercise to loosen the arms. But on constant observation I found that there was a well-established protocol for communication. This was tricky because the communication took place within a few seconds. While the exact language is beyond my understanding, the crux of the matter is that drivers gesticulate to find out if there is any police checking going on ahead and whether there is a need to change the route to avoid the inspectors....
* Talking about checks, a drive to curb air pollution around a year back deserves an award or too. A month before the drive was scheduled to begin, the newspapers ads started threatening of the dire consequences if drivers did not have a valid air pollution certificate. As the deadline approached, people started getting panicky. On the fateful day when the checks were to being, serpentine queues were
visible in front of pollution check centers. That too when the PUC center had not yet opened. The queue reminded us of the old days when people thronged before cinema halls to get the first show ticket of a Big B starrer. Or for that matter, to get the more mundane kerosene oil. Anyways, the farce of longs queues at the PUC centers continued when people started realizing that the threat was a hoax call and no one was really worried about the pollution as the ads had claimed to be. Once the realization dawned, the queues dwindled, but not before hundreds of centers to check pollution mushroomed along the national highways leading to Delhi. The PUC centers are still seen with a checking device and a battery.
* This is not the last in pollution. Starting 1st april, certain technological advancements have been made in pollution checks. Now, the PUC certificate must also contain a photo of the car along with the date of the pollution check. This is to avoid fake certificates. Once, when I went to a PUC center, the owner was not present. His deputy did not know how to operate the device. Despite this, a pollution
certificate was promptly issued to me. Long live money....
* If this is not enough, I wonder why I still dont know what are the acceptable levels of pollution. And what do I do if my car is polluting ? Get my car's engine tuned. And even then if the pollution is not under control, what do I do? Throw the car...
* Talking about queues and waiting lists, it was not long ago when the number of years one had to wait for a telephone connection was a fashion statement. But that was before the telecom industry was freed from the shackles of gigantic monopolies. Now mobile connectivity is obtained in hours. But the queue has not yet disappeared, albeit the queue is of people surrendering their telephone lines to get a Reliance phone or a cellular...
* Once I was driving to my office when I found a broken bed on the road. Nearby, a cart puller was standing with another bed on his hand-pulled cart. It was evident that the bed had fallen from the cart and had broken into pieces. I wonder who will foot the bill of the broken bed? The buyer who had not yet received his bed? Or the carpenter who had made the bed? Or the poor cart puller whose cart could not
carry the bed to its destination? Or was it that the bed was insured and the insurance company was going to foot the bill...
* In a recent travel by Rajdhani train, I was pleased to see that the toilets had liquid soap. Soaps in public bathrooms are an item of luxury. Even in our school days, the school children used soil instead of soap to clean the hands. The sale of paper soap in the trains vindicates the fact that toilets in train are not meant to have soaps. However, the travel in Rajdhani proved to be an exception. The vendors selling paper soaps were nowhere to be seen. And liquid soap in the toilets was brimful. This is a different issue that the liquid soap was more of liquid and less of soap. A step made nonetheless...
* Service tax on many items was imposed in this budget. Thus there has been a flurry of ads exhorting businessmen providing specific services to pay their service tax. The first part of the ad threatens the businessmen of dire consequences on non-payment of taxes. There is a change in tenor in the second part of the ad where an appeal is made to the businessmen to pay their taxes and contribute towards the nation. I wonder who is this nation? And what does the nation do with the contribution. Most importantly, why should I contribute towards it until I am forced to do so?
* In "Chachu's Column #13: Of Roads, Rails, and Safety", I had mentioned how a speed breaker extends only half the breadth and how it proves to be a big traffic hazard. After writing the column, I wondered whether my part was over given that the speed breaker remained half complete, forcing motorists to drive on wrong side. I also wondered whether anyone would ever take note of the hazard. Some few days back I was pleased to see that the speed breaker was extended so as to cover the complete road. The act provided that finally someone had displayed some civic sense. However, my joy was short-lived. On the very same day while returning from office, I found the poor quality construction getting washed away by the traffic. Only the debris remained on the sides of the road. The debris still remains and no fresh effort has been made to remedy the situation.
* Talking about speed breaker, some four years ago there were around 30 of them on my way to office. As more people wanted the buses to stop in front of their houses fresh speed breakers were built. However, when a major stretch of road was resurfaced, many of the breakers got buried under the layer of coal tar. Those breakers genuinely required to break speed also got buried. The lack of coordination between various bodies had at least one benefit. At last count, the number of speed breakers hovered around 25.
There are more stories to share but some other time...
Enjoy.
Chachu 30/3/2003
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Wednesday, February 26, 2003
Chachu’s Column #19: Of Safe Bottled Waters and Lone Crusaders
Mired in the humdrum existence of our lives, we look at the mess around us and sulk.
Some one stops his scooter in the middle of the road and talks to the driver of a bus. The bus too is improperly parked, waiting for its belly to be stuffed by soulless bodies. We honk at the scooter-wallah, waiting for him to be kind enough to give us some space to move ahead. The first few honks go unheard. After few more honks, the man pays an attention or two. By that time the cars behind us start honking. The scooter-wallah looks at us. Despite his effrontery, he realizes that there is still some space for us to move - provided our arm muscles are employed and the steering wheel given a twist. So the response is a silly gaze. The honks and the gaze fight for a while. Unlike the movies, the gaze comes up triumph. We sulk.
Then there are occasional showers - barely noticeable. But the potholes give adequate proof. The roads are in shambles. The same place that were in dire straits last year are in same pathetic state. Déjà vu. The repairs are the same. Loose pebbles strewn over the potholes - sometimes with soil. Another shower and it is worse. Truck's wheels get stuck and one side of the road is rendered unfit for use. More Déjà vu.
We sulk - all the more.
This is not the end. This is just the beginning.
Experiences like these, which cause dismay and disappointment, are so pervasive that this article can be a perfect opportunity to bitch at the dismal state of public life. We in fact do this: curse everyone in sight - the government, the administration and the people. We then realize the helplessness of the situation and accept our plight as fait accompli. However, some of us do not take things lying down. We indulge in debates and heated arguments. But soon we realize the futility of the effort. The seething anger still remains though.
Very few of us transcend the barrier - the barrier between the desire to do something and an actual act that impacts lives of thousands or millions of people. People like these are in great minority. While rest of us ruminate over the omnipotence of our opposition, such people make their own road and march ahead. The road is tough, no doubt - traversing through the forests and the jungles. But once a person treads this route, others just follow. The difficult part is already done.
While one can cite many such eminent personalities, one such person that begs for a comment is Padma Shri and Padma Bhushan recipeint - Late Anil Agarwal. A graduate in Mechanical Engineering from the Indian Institute of Technology, Kanpur, the man went on to become one of the leading environment journalist and environment advocate of modern India. Agarwal's most important contribution was to create awareness across the world about the importance of the environment in poor, developing countries. To achieve this end, Anil Agarwal established the Centre for Science and Environment (CSE), an influential and highly vocal environmental NGO based in Delhi. It was a step taken by CSE this month, which forced me write something on this venerable Organization.
The Centre for Science and Environment was established in 1980 by a group of engineers, scientists, journalists and environmentalists to increase public awareness of vital issues in science, technology, environment and development. In the first year, CSE was involved in producing an information service on science and society-related issues such as energy, environment, health, human settlements and the impact of science and technology at the grassroots level. Since then it has grown into one of India's leading environmental NGOs with a deep interest in sustainable natural resource management. For nearly two decades now, CSE has tried to educate a whole nation, from many of its top political leaders to its numerous rural activists, about the importance of sustainable development, especially for the daily survival of the country's poor and its rural women.
Last year CSE was instrumental in getting the smoke-belching diesel buses off Delhi roads. Much as powerful lobbies tried to stall the effort, the CSE stood firm. Under the directions of honorable Supreme Court, the state and central governments of Delhi had to relent. CNG buses have now complete replaced Diesel buses. The latter are no more seen on Delhi roads (however, diesel trucks are still seen).
Then, CSE also introduced the Green Rating project, a pioneering project to rate industries on their environmental performance. The project highlighted the shortcomings of the automobile industries in the area of environmental performance and sensitized them about the synergies between sustainable development and environmental protection. Some of the companies did not take part in the project, an act that underlined their (in)sincerity towards environment.
This year too has started with a bang. Few weeks back, CSE brought a report that highlighted the high contents of pesticides in packed drinking water bottles. The leading bottlers even were not spared. The industry proclaimed that they complied to BIS standards. BIS or Bureau of Indian Standards appeared to be sleeping all the while.
I once had a very small experience with BIS when I wanted a technical specification from ITU-T (an international telecommunications body). ITU-T asked me to contact BIS for the same. When I approached BIS, first of all no one appeared to understand what I wanted as though they hardly understood anything. When one of them finally understood what I wanted, I was told that I would get the specifications in two
months. I said, "No thanks". Given this lethargy, no wonder that the poor level of quality standards provides excuse for bottlers to sell unsafe drinking water.
But the report from CSE changed all this. The center stepped into the scene and asked BIS to take quick action. Latter immediately brought out new standards for bottling packaged water. This was not the end. There were raids at various bottling plants and eight licenses were cancelled. One of the leading bottlers explained its situation through newspapers.
The act of CSE marked how a small step from civil society can alter what it gets. Certain individual had taken an after two decades back, and now the results seem to be coming. Even though it appears that so much happened, very little has actually changed. lots of questions still remain. Who will ensure that the new standards are adhered to? Who will monitor the counterfeit bottles? What about the quality of water supplied though public distribution system? Will there be any standards for them?
And water is just one of our necessities. We need roads, houses, electricity, food and so many other things. Who is the police for this? And who is our crusader? Anil Agarwal died more than a year back. While CSE still fights with Anil as their guru, what about others? Among the four sets of people: the polluters, the mute spectators, the debaters and the doers, where will we find ourselves? Time to think.
And more importantly, take a step or two....
Chachu (26/2/2003)
NOTE: On a personal level, I would request those interested in environment and those interesting in providing impetus to the efforts of CSE to subsribe to their print edition or web edition using the URLs provided below (http://www.downtoearth.org.in/Subscriber_new.asp ).
Web Resources
-------------
http://www.cseindia.org (Main website of CSE)
http://data.cseindia.org (CSE library of resources)
http://www.cseindia.org/html/au/anilji/anilji.htm
http://www.downtoearth.org.in/Subscriber_new.asp (to subscribe to the CSE's fortnightly magazine "Down To Earth")
List Managment
--------------
To subscribe, send a blank email to chachus_pen-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
To unsubscribe, send a blank email to chachus_pen-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.comv
Some one stops his scooter in the middle of the road and talks to the driver of a bus. The bus too is improperly parked, waiting for its belly to be stuffed by soulless bodies. We honk at the scooter-wallah, waiting for him to be kind enough to give us some space to move ahead. The first few honks go unheard. After few more honks, the man pays an attention or two. By that time the cars behind us start honking. The scooter-wallah looks at us. Despite his effrontery, he realizes that there is still some space for us to move - provided our arm muscles are employed and the steering wheel given a twist. So the response is a silly gaze. The honks and the gaze fight for a while. Unlike the movies, the gaze comes up triumph. We sulk.
Then there are occasional showers - barely noticeable. But the potholes give adequate proof. The roads are in shambles. The same place that were in dire straits last year are in same pathetic state. Déjà vu. The repairs are the same. Loose pebbles strewn over the potholes - sometimes with soil. Another shower and it is worse. Truck's wheels get stuck and one side of the road is rendered unfit for use. More Déjà vu.
We sulk - all the more.
This is not the end. This is just the beginning.
Experiences like these, which cause dismay and disappointment, are so pervasive that this article can be a perfect opportunity to bitch at the dismal state of public life. We in fact do this: curse everyone in sight - the government, the administration and the people. We then realize the helplessness of the situation and accept our plight as fait accompli. However, some of us do not take things lying down. We indulge in debates and heated arguments. But soon we realize the futility of the effort. The seething anger still remains though.
Very few of us transcend the barrier - the barrier between the desire to do something and an actual act that impacts lives of thousands or millions of people. People like these are in great minority. While rest of us ruminate over the omnipotence of our opposition, such people make their own road and march ahead. The road is tough, no doubt - traversing through the forests and the jungles. But once a person treads this route, others just follow. The difficult part is already done.
While one can cite many such eminent personalities, one such person that begs for a comment is Padma Shri and Padma Bhushan recipeint - Late Anil Agarwal. A graduate in Mechanical Engineering from the Indian Institute of Technology, Kanpur, the man went on to become one of the leading environment journalist and environment advocate of modern India. Agarwal's most important contribution was to create awareness across the world about the importance of the environment in poor, developing countries. To achieve this end, Anil Agarwal established the Centre for Science and Environment (CSE), an influential and highly vocal environmental NGO based in Delhi. It was a step taken by CSE this month, which forced me write something on this venerable Organization.
The Centre for Science and Environment was established in 1980 by a group of engineers, scientists, journalists and environmentalists to increase public awareness of vital issues in science, technology, environment and development. In the first year, CSE was involved in producing an information service on science and society-related issues such as energy, environment, health, human settlements and the impact of science and technology at the grassroots level. Since then it has grown into one of India's leading environmental NGOs with a deep interest in sustainable natural resource management. For nearly two decades now, CSE has tried to educate a whole nation, from many of its top political leaders to its numerous rural activists, about the importance of sustainable development, especially for the daily survival of the country's poor and its rural women.
Last year CSE was instrumental in getting the smoke-belching diesel buses off Delhi roads. Much as powerful lobbies tried to stall the effort, the CSE stood firm. Under the directions of honorable Supreme Court, the state and central governments of Delhi had to relent. CNG buses have now complete replaced Diesel buses. The latter are no more seen on Delhi roads (however, diesel trucks are still seen).
Then, CSE also introduced the Green Rating project, a pioneering project to rate industries on their environmental performance. The project highlighted the shortcomings of the automobile industries in the area of environmental performance and sensitized them about the synergies between sustainable development and environmental protection. Some of the companies did not take part in the project, an act that underlined their (in)sincerity towards environment.
This year too has started with a bang. Few weeks back, CSE brought a report that highlighted the high contents of pesticides in packed drinking water bottles. The leading bottlers even were not spared. The industry proclaimed that they complied to BIS standards. BIS or Bureau of Indian Standards appeared to be sleeping all the while.
I once had a very small experience with BIS when I wanted a technical specification from ITU-T (an international telecommunications body). ITU-T asked me to contact BIS for the same. When I approached BIS, first of all no one appeared to understand what I wanted as though they hardly understood anything. When one of them finally understood what I wanted, I was told that I would get the specifications in two
months. I said, "No thanks". Given this lethargy, no wonder that the poor level of quality standards provides excuse for bottlers to sell unsafe drinking water.
But the report from CSE changed all this. The center stepped into the scene and asked BIS to take quick action. Latter immediately brought out new standards for bottling packaged water. This was not the end. There were raids at various bottling plants and eight licenses were cancelled. One of the leading bottlers explained its situation through newspapers.
The act of CSE marked how a small step from civil society can alter what it gets. Certain individual had taken an after two decades back, and now the results seem to be coming. Even though it appears that so much happened, very little has actually changed. lots of questions still remain. Who will ensure that the new standards are adhered to? Who will monitor the counterfeit bottles? What about the quality of water supplied though public distribution system? Will there be any standards for them?
And water is just one of our necessities. We need roads, houses, electricity, food and so many other things. Who is the police for this? And who is our crusader? Anil Agarwal died more than a year back. While CSE still fights with Anil as their guru, what about others? Among the four sets of people: the polluters, the mute spectators, the debaters and the doers, where will we find ourselves? Time to think.
And more importantly, take a step or two....
Chachu (26/2/2003)
NOTE: On a personal level, I would request those interested in environment and those interesting in providing impetus to the efforts of CSE to subsribe to their print edition or web edition using the URLs provided below (http://www.downtoearth.org.in/Subscriber_new.asp ).
Web Resources
-------------
http://www.cseindia.org (Main website of CSE)
http://data.cseindia.org (CSE library of resources)
http://www.cseindia.org/html/au/anilji/anilji.htm
http://www.downtoearth.org.in/Subscriber_new.asp (to subscribe to the CSE's fortnightly magazine "Down To Earth")
List Managment
--------------
To subscribe, send a blank email to chachus_pen-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
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