#91: the summer that it is

DC is going through its usual spate of muggy days and sapping humidity without rain. And I am going through the paces of teaching two dozen students about the fickle-minded foreign exchange markets. They better pay attention: it will hit them hard soon whether they travel overseas or not.

My adventures in MD/DC this summer so far have been limited to a Nats game at RFK stadium, and to the hoopla (aka mania) around the last potion of Harry Potter magic.

Can someone tell me why cricket gets branded as a slow game when there is baseball? Ahhh, the double standards. If only anyone at the stadium really paid any attention to what was going on! I am sticking to futbol.

Potter mania was as much a celebration of capturing kids' (and adult) imagination in fairy-tale fiction as much as an elaborate corporate merchandising exercise. I won't be surprised if it morphs into a federal holiday soon: more sales, discounts, and shopping! Downtown Silver Spring got renamed Diagon-Alley for an evening. People in all sorts of witchy costumes walked about or waited in long serpentine lines for their copy of Volume 7. I think I'll be the Grinch and give out the end in the final exam in class. They will have to read it since it will be in the exam!! The last laugh is the best!!!

#87: fireworks

Jefferson Memorial on the National Mall in Washington, DC.

July 4th in DC and "rain+thunder+lightning+threat of cancellation of the fireworks on the Mall" is an inevitable routine. This year wasn't any different. The clouds came, roared, poured, but thankfully rolled on. We had our "Made in China" fireworks, although they did not last as long. If the lawmakers here keep pressuring the Chinese to appreciate the yuan, the fireworks next year may get shorter still.

#76: cherry-blossoms

#64: ode to 2006

01.01.2007 is just a few hours away; time enough to reflect again on the year that has been.

I've had ups and downs – nothing unusual there. Most days were mundane, but there were occasional novelties. A mobile phone, my first champagne, a blog (actually two), 10 miles in 78 minutes, a digital camera, a ride in a convertible, a road-trip to Boston and Plymouth Rock, out taking photos in a blizzard at 2:00am, reconnecting with some good old friends, and above all – a short vacation with parents, the first in more than a decade.

The opposing bookend was the moments when I threw up my hands and wondered, "Why? Why? Why? Why?" It felt like being under the cosh; finding myself on the wrong side of the double-edged sword named "hope". It was the helplessness of having given it all that I could, and still falling short. Hope, which I had in abundance this time last year, made the trip back to reality that much more painful. I tried putting on a brave face, and treasured the good moments – if and when they came, even more.

So as the clock strikes 12, do I dare wish for a better 2007? Or not tempt fate and leave it at that? I haven't decided yet.

#41: 5 years thence

It's the fifth anniversary of the infamous day. Two of the most thoughtful and moving pieces I read today were in the NY Times. The editorial put the last 5 years in perspective. And a commentary on the commemoration ceremony added a human face to the suffering and grief.
A photo essay there took a different route. It captured images of the iconic WTC over the years. No; not of the day it crumbled. Instead, it's of the years when it stood proud and tall and gave NYC its signature skyline. I recommend this essay even if you don't read the rest of the blog. Click on the link above and turn on the speakers.

#25: the date

Today is 08.07.06. Only dorks will find this interesting.

I believe this combination is auspicious in Arabic cultures, but I could be wrong. A lottery ticket can test the statistical significance of this null hypothesis!

#24: august 06

It's a lot more than just another day. The first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima this day in 1945. And in 1991, the web we all know so well went world wide. In their own separate ways, they have changed our world.

The atom bomb arguably brought World War II to an end. But it instantly killed 80,000-140,000 civilians and seriously injured 100,000 more – most of whom died a premature and painful death in the next few years. Just imagine – the burst of temperature reaching over a million degrees: concrete, iron, steel, glass, and all living matter seared in that heat. It's too grotesque to even imagine. Robert Oppenheimer, the father of the Manhattan Project, said he thought of the lines from the Bhagavad Gita, "I am become Death, Destroyer of Worlds". Lt. Colonel Paul Tibbets, the pilot of the B29 (Enola Gay) that dropped the bomb nicknamed "Little Boy" exclaimed, "My God, what have we done?" as he watched the atomic cloud suck out life from a city of 750,000 people.

I am no historian, politician, or military strategist. I can only reflect on the devastation of war. In the 6 decades since, what have we learnt? Buildings, bridges, and roads can be rebuilt. But what about lives? Those who raise the spectre of war: to them are lives anything beyond a count in their calculus? I see the raging conflicts – from Timor to the Middle-East, from Central-Asia to parts of Africa and beyond, and new ones brewing over Iran and North Korea .... and I have my doubts. Too much power flows from the barrel of a gun.

On to the web: The days prior to an instant link to the world through the internet seems almost unimaginable. In just 15 years we've been so thoroughly "webbed". Education, commerce, information, communication, governance, entertainment – this medium covers it all. It's become integral to our lives; we feel marooned without it. And our dependence seems limitless.

I could have scripted a journal. Instead I am posting my thoughts and beaming them beyond all borders to anyone who can type-in the url address. You and I could be anywhere; the world has just shrunk. How powerful is that! Quite like atomic power, come to think of it. Hopefully it will be harnessed for peaceful productive pursuits only.

#17: a tragic paradox

If aliens were observing humans, what would they find? A dominant specie that conquers almost all on the planet and a little beyond; a specie that is innovative, is capable of love, affection, benevolence, and great intellectual feats. But also a specie with an irrational streak – of not hesitating to destroy their achievements and reputations – whether to score a point or just because they can. And they frequently succumb to this impulse. The strong sense of self-preservation could just as well tempt them to destroy what they seek to protect. What a paradox!

To think of it, how incredibly overwhelming must our hate-machines be. Infants are born with almost divine innocence. But somewhere our society, upbringing, and circumstances fail them. A culture of violence, hatred, and mistrust surrounds them instead. How tragic that sermons preaching tolerance and love have to compete with video-games and lyrics fuelling anger, hate, and destruction. Is there no other avenue to vent human angst? Is there no alternative outlet for desperation and dissatisfaction? What worries me is that I am a part of the very society and system I criticise, just as it is a part of me.

I think of innocent citizens caught in crossfires – from Mumbai to Madrid, from Jaffna to Jakarta, from Gaza to Haifa. All they seek is to get on with their lives – in relative peace, stability, and some self-respect. And millennia of human civilisations later, we are still in an elusive quest for this utopia.

#16: tintin @ 100?

Did my "evergreen" hero turn 100? Well, not really. It's the centennial year of Georges Remi, aka Hergé - the creator of Tintin.

As kids, we've idolised the usual super-heroes – Superman, Batman, Spiderman, and some local ones too. Tintin was the odd one in this congress. He had no cape; he couldn't fly. Yet he out-foxed all opponents with his wit and fearlessness. He captured the imagination of at least one restless 5 year old then, and still does.

But even more importantly, Tintin's adventures opened my eyes to the wide world outside – to cultures, customs, sights and sounds of distant lands – much before and beyond any book in geography did. It was learning at its best – a whole lot of fun. He made dinner-table quizzes exciting. I could pit myself against the elders: we were all equal on Tintin trivia. And above all, he sowed a seed of curiosity and the urge to travel around the world that still survives.

O how I implored my mother to let me roll up my trousers and wear white socks to school. Or to get me a blue sweater that I then refused to let go for days on end. She sportingly washed it often, to keep it fit for "my next adventure". I remember donning my father's yellow shirt that then reached beyond my knee in length. That was the closest I got to Tintin's trademark beige overcoat!! Ah, the amazing world of imagination.
Hergé was a master story-teller. Each character .... Captain Archibald Haddock – his bumbling habits and "mild temper", Professor Cuthbert Calculus – just a little hard of hearing in one ear but certainly not deaf, Nestor – the butler, the well-intentioned but thoroughly incompetent Thomson and Thompson, and Snowy – his supressed weakness for Loch Lomond whisky, .... was a gem in unique and eccentric ways. Trivia: Snowy (or Milou) was named after Hergé's first girlfriend Marie-Louise (Malou), and Captain Haddock got his after Hergé's wife mentioned that the haddock was a "sad English fish". Ouch.

Tintin remains timeless. Ask Steven Spielberg and 200 million other readers if you doubt me. He continues to bring a smile to faces across generations and continents. We owe Hergé our gratitude. Dank je.

#15: why, and what for

Mumbai was rocked – by bombs on suburban trains that mindlessly killed a few hundred innocent people just going about their daily lives. As if living was not hard enough already ....

It brings back horrific memories. I grew up in Delhi where, at the height of Punjab insurgency, public buses were the soft targets. Then came Mumbai in March, 1993. One late afternoon, 13 bomb blasts ripped across India's financial capital. The targets were the stock exchange, the main rail station, the passport office, the airport, busy market-places, hotels. It prematurely ended the lives of locals, tourists, and of kids just walking back after school. All blown to pieces for nothing they did or did not do. Our office was just a few blocks away from two of the sites.

Even months later the city was still in a stupor – unable to fathom, or explain the why, and what for. So many years have passed since then. But methods or mindsets of such killers haven't changed. Do they ever see themselves in the mirror? Do they ever look back and try to make sense of it? Do they ever ask what have they achieved from those deaths? Is the truth too uncomfortable to bear? Or am I expecting a rational behaviour which is a misplaced assumption to begin with?

The next day: It's the perfect civic response .... not with guns or a witch-hunt, but with defiance. The authorities cleared up the wreckage overnight despite pouring monsoon rains, the commuters flocked back to the same network in the morning, and the stock-market climbed higher!! All of it without much fanfare - as if tubthumping .... "I get knocked down, but I get up again; You're never going to keep me down". Mumbai – I am so proud of you.

#14: the carnival ends

The month-long global celebrations came to an end. Italy shall wear the crown of world champions in the world's most popular sport for the next 4 years. The French came close, but were denied by the breadth of a pole and a moment of madness.

The final game was entertaining but not a masterpiece. It did have drama .... going all the way beyond extra-time into penalty kicks. Unfortunately my lasting image may be the moment of infamy. Zidane (Zizou) brought his long, glittering career to an end in shame. "Mais pourquoi? Mais pourquoi?" the French commentator kept repeating – completely baffled with what we all saw. That may have been the defining moment, and may have cost the French the title. And in that one moment he lost at least one fan who for years had idolised him as a role-model for his sublime skills and sportsmanship. There can be no excuse for such violent behaviour. It's a sad reminder that these superstars are fallible humans too.

The WC excitement was everywhere for a month. The Washington Post featured it on its cover page this week. Even Kofi Annan took time off to share his admiration. He isn't so tech-savvy to start a blog, but it still says a lot. Do read his article. We share the same sentiments – only he does it a lot more eloquently.

To everyone responsible for this one month of magic, I say congratulations on a fabulous show. And thank you for the rich tapestry of moments. Along with others I will gradually limp back into my regular humdrum. The memories – of joy and despair, of jubilation and exasperation, shall linger long thereafter. So long, until South Africa 2010.

#11: lightning for fireworks

It's July 4th: time for celebration, fireworks and a long summer weekend. All good so far. But here's a contrary thought. I lecture on the interdependence of world markets, how globalisation makes this one big interconnected place where everyone is in it together – for better (think trade) or for worse (contagion, financial crises).

So what does "independence day" signify in the present times? Is it anything more than a notion now fading into irrelevance and a myth? Britain does not have one or need one. In US, it is more a holiday for parades, fireworks and barbeques under the sun. For fledgling nations, fresh from their experience of being colonised, the pomp and pageantry are vital reminders and reaffirmation of their new and hard-fought status. That too shall change as time passes on. But nowhere does anyone proclaim an "interdependence day" – other than in the office of one Prof. Benjamin Barber at UMD. Why is interdependence construed a sign of weakness and not a standard for greater maturity and understanding? Oh well ....

This may have been my last July 4th at the National Mall. But the rain gods clearly had a different plan. It was hot, sunny, and sultry – until evening. The clouds then rolled in and with it came rain, thunder, and lightning. They filled up the sky with light and sound effects no less impressive. So I ended up watching our local version instead. It was less spectacular than the big show downtown, but still carried a punch. There's something about seeing it in person that the television just cannot capture. Some of my classmates were there too. For now I'll just have to imagine how it must have been were I sitting by the Tidal Basin with one bronzed Thomas Jefferson Esq. peeping over my shoulders. Maybe I'll get a chance next year, or maybe not. No regrets. I had fun this evening with friends. And thanks for the holiday – the freedom from the daily humdrum for even a day: now that's an independence we all can relate to.