Future

Excerpts from my fiction Future of Future

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I turned around when I heard the Windows starting sound wondering who started my laptop. It was my two and half year old granddaughter Aanya, who knowingly pressed the start button and was waiting for main screen to appear. I decided to wait and watch her next move. She also patiently waited till main page appeared. She spoke aloud ‘A’ and pressed the ‘A’ key, then called out B and pressed ‘B’ key. She glanced at the screen, there was no change, she realized something more needs to be done that she was not aware of. She looked at me and gestured to express that something needs to be done. I realized that perhaps she wants me to open a new word document, which I did willingly, pressed caps lock and then she happily started striking the keys from A to O, that she had learnt and from 1 to 9 as she did not know how to type 10 even though she knows the figure 10. I waited for a while till her attention got diverted to something else and she left the room.

I sat with my laptop staring at the screen that blanked out and took me to the future. I saw myself in a classroom to deliver my lecture. I noticed a talented generation, extremely smart generation occupying seats to listen my lecture. There were no note books, no pens or pencils but there was a small smartphone like gadget with each one of them. I refrained from showing my ignorance about that gadget, thought it might be a new generation mobile phone or similar. I wondered in absence of notebooks where and how these students will be writing. I glanced at the class and started my session, I kept talking, and the students were listening and moving their fingers over the gadget they held. In between I wanted to explain a point on the board. To my surprise there was no board or markers or chalks. I asked for the class representative to check the possibility to have a board and markers. I noticed a great surprise in his eyes. ‘You mean to say that you want to write’? He almost screamed. I said ‘of course yes, I can explain better on the board’.

‘Well Sir’, he said, ‘we have boards or writing material only in museums, not in college’.

I wondered at his reply. ‘You mean to say you don’t write’ I quipped.

‘We analyze, understand and just memorize what you say’ he explained. ‘This is the only thing we need for all our activities’. He showed me the smartphone like gadget to me.

‘We don’t write, rather we don’t know how to write’. I was startled at his reply. How come a management student can’t write? I was amazed. He guessed my expression and predicament.

He said, ‘Sir there is no need to write, we can manage without writing’.

I thought for a while and then realized, yes, he was right. There no reason why he or anyone from his generation should write. All that one need is recognition of alphabets and numbers. Once these are identified then there is a keypad on mobile or laptop or a virtual key board to type. Where is the need to write? One communicates by texting, emails, voice chats, video conferences and many more ways including telekinetic. Then what’s the need to learn writing. Handwriting is a matter of history and so are the writing equipments. To confirm my thoughts, I asked the students if they carry any pens or similar, any paper or notebooks? What is that someone asked me? Then I realized that I was at a wrong place or some drastic changes have taken place. The students were very different. There were no notebooks, no papers, no pens, and no pencils. These articles and for that matter even these words were not in their dictionary. I thought of my younger days and the scolding that I had from my parents and teachers to improve handwriting. The money spent by my father to buy the three line and four line note books, the time spent by mother holding my hand to guide me over the dotted letters to improve the handwriting were part of that civilization that might return only after the complete destruction of this current and future civilizations. 

‘How do you sign?’ that was my next question.

‘What do you mean by sign?’ there was a counter question.

‘Well, how do you establish your identity? How do you authenticate the documents or transactions?’ I tried to explain.

‘Well that’s no problem. Biometrics does that job. In rare cases behaviometric is used’. For no reason I remembered the illiterate farmers who used their left thumb impression to authenticate the moneylender’s exploiting documents.

By now I realized that the glasses worn by the students were capable of getting converted as scanners that would do neuroimaging and inform them my thoughts well in advance. That was mind boggling. There was no further reason to address the group and as my thoughts were already ‘read’ by them. I wondered what kind of sports would be played in such society. Chess would be out of question. Many more forward moves would be known to the players. If at all cricket would be played then both the batsman and bowler would know in advance the kind of ball that would be bowled and what stroke will be played. The fielders would move to position before the ball is bowled. In such cases the one who can swiftly read multiple minds and act instantly would be the winner. The batsman would just signal and make use of telekinetic to move the side screen. Perhaps the commentators would know in advance the next couple of overs. The match fixing and betting will have different dimensions. Scorecards will be digitalized and no one would write the score books. Writing will get extinct.

I came back to present when I heard the windows closing sound. I abandoned my plan to buy notebooks and pencils for Aanya, decided to divest from investments in paper industries, companies manufacturing pens, pencils and similar products.  The future was different, beyond imagination. Highly knowledgeable persons would be semi-illiterate as they would only read but not write. The future was frightening. 

Teacher's Day

This blog is dedicated to all my students for their love and affection.

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It was just a chance that after I delivered my speech as the chief guest for a pharmacy week function at a local college, I was requested to tutor the management students. I was never a teacher in my life and wasn’t sure to accept the offer. Back home my wife was excited at the offer and the director of the institute was very persistent. I gave a serious thought and finally gave my consent for various reasons; one of them was the inspiration that I derived from my father’s action.

It was way back in year 2000. That evening after giving my consent I rushed to nearest book store, we just had one in Vashi in those days. Went through couple of books and wondered is this what I would like to read and teach? The crumpled copy of the university syllabus that I had said ‘yes’ but my heart said ‘no’. I thought I would rather share my experiences of over three decades of corporate world with the students rather than teaching theory from the books. I returned home empty handed but with lots of thoughts in my mind. That evening I sat down with a notebook and pen, and started writing my experiences that would explain management theory to the students. I had a dial up connection for internet that made me struggle to get some latest information from the net at a miserably slow speed. Over next two or three days I was ready with my first lecture. I went to the only stationary shop in Nerul bought few acetate sheets and marker pens to make my first OHP slides. I don’t think I had ever made such slides in the past, my secretarial team and co-workers managed this for me. Where to start and how to start was a question. Few sheets got wasted, yet I kept trying till I was satisfied. Finally the day of first lecture arrived, I was standing in front of nearly fifty students of MMS third semester. OHP, black board and, few chalks were in place. It was a different experience. The audience or participants were so different than what I used to have in the corporate world. I started carefully keeping a watchful eye on the audience. I could notice a flicker of interest in the eyes of the students and that was what I was looking forward to. I kept on going, at time using the chalk to explain on the board. I enjoyed the first session. During the break few students gathered around and we had some chat. This enforced my observation that the students are interested in my lecture. And if that is so then it is my responsibility to meet their expectations. I was in a different world when I drove back home.

I started enjoying my sessions. It was fun and very interesting. The interaction with young aspiring students kept me charged. The semester ended after twelve sessions. After the last lecture we had a photo session, some students made me write some message for them on their note books and I returned home with heavy heart and bouquet of roses.

In due course of time the next semester started, then the next year and then another year and then another institute and it goes on. OHP is a history, LCDs came in, ppt was the order of the day was replaced by pptx. PCs were replaced by laptops, that got replaced by netbooks and now tablets. I was enjoying. I got more and more involved. I had a different sense of satisfaction each day when I retired for the day. All these years I learnt that to be a good teacher, I need to be a good learner. I was learning each day and that made me a good teacher (if I can say so). Today with over 10,000 students from different institutes, over a decade, I have a great sense of accomplishment, the one that I was looking forward to, knowingly or unknowingly, over the years.

I still remember all my teachers, all those who taught me. Being a good learner I learnt even when the person I was interacting was not my teacher. One such incidence gave me inspiration and that made me a teacher. It’s old story that is still fresh in my mind. One day I was to travel to Pune as a young executive, when my father desired that he would like to accompany me. He was old and a trip to Pune was not as comfortable as it is today. He told me that he was keen to meet someone by name Mr. Watchmaker. I took him to Pune. We searched for Mr. Watchmakers’s place and reached there without giving any intimation (telephone was a luxury in those days). It was a typical Parsi home and someone answered the bell. We announced the purpose of our visit. The person led us to a spacious well-kept drawing hall. In one corner an old frail figure was sitting in a wheel chair that was Mr. Watchmker. He was over ninety at that time. I looked at my father who was over seventy five, his eyes sparkled. He sprinted towards Mr. Watchmaker took his hand fondly in his own, shook gently and bent down to touch his feet. Mr. Watchmaker stared at my father and before he would ask any questions my father said, B M Pandit, Sir, your BA final year student in 1918 at Robertson College. For a moment Mr. Watchmaker looked blank, soon his eyes glittered, became moist. He held my father’s hands as firmly as he could. I too bent down to pay respects to teacher of my first teacher, that’s my father.  The reunion took place after over fifty five years. My father always cherished the teachings that he had from his teacher. That incidence gave me an inspiration to be a teacher sometime in life and that is what I am today. I may not reach that height but let me try.

God bless you and best luck. Do well in life.

Aaj ka Mahabharat

Now on Twitter @ManoharPandit

Right from my childhood I was informed that Mahabharat (महाभारत) was a war between good and evil, scrupulous and unscrupulous, virtuous and dishonest. Mahabharat says that the one who follows Dharma (धर्म) will always win. There was no apparent reason for me not to believe this. During Mahabharat the good guys were outnumbered by bad guys and it was a heroic deed to win over the large number of bad guys. Pandava (पाण्डव)  represented good characters and the Kaurava (कौरव) were just the opposite. Reason for the war was larger numbers practiced evil and drove away the virtuous marginal by unfair means. Shakuni Mama (शकुनी  मामा) designed the crooked strategy. A stage came when Draupadi (द्रौपदी)  was also lost in gamble and was to be disrobed in public. Draupadi who was an asset (not in sense of physical property) to Pandava, raised some valid questions in the gathering of Kaurava and other royals. Bhishma (भीष्म)  was the only sensible person in Kaurava’s camp who played safe. He claimed Dharma is subtle. Many stalwarts from Kaurava camp were unable to resolve her queries. Her question was laced with legal, moral, ethical, cultural dimensions. The question was whether baiting Darupadi, in the gambling by the Pandava was acceptable to Dharma? As a sequel this has raised an issue that who has authority to decide about Dharma? In Mahabharat era all the characters knew relevant meaning of Dharma and each one practiced it for one’s own benefit.  The question was not complicated but the answer was. No one could reply and ultimately the zing of unscrupulous rulers forced the noble out. The war got ignited because the virtuous were denied their rights. The war was won by noble who were in miserable minority.

The war could have been avoided, had the natural rights been recognised, had a common meaning of Dharma been accepted by the warring parties. A natural right like the right to liberty comes first, and then comes the civil society and then the political parties. The individuals therefore are allowed to express their concerns. Government shouldn’t be insensitive to the individuals seeking natural rights. Even Mahabharat has made it amply clear that the King (government) is morally responsible to protect its citizens, which includes their rights.

Today are we heading towards Mahabharat, but with some differences? Is it Mahabharat of Kaliyug (कलियुग)? The civil society has overcome the barriers of political parties to unite for abolition of corruption and for better governance. Today the Pandava are still a minority but unfortunately are they scrupulous? They hold all productive resources and wealth but their asset Draupadi is not with them. The Kaurava are once again in majority, but now they are scrupulous. Today Kaurava are held to ransom by handful Pandava, who have no answers to the questions of Draupadi. The mighty and learned Pandava and their faithful are unable to answer the simple questions that Draupadi has raised about corruption and civil society. Today also her questions are laced with legal, moral, ethical, cultural dimensions. The questions are not complicated but the answers are. The answers are like boomerang, that’s going to hit back the Pandava. No one wants to reply. No one is ready to reply to the basic question of Dharma? In today’s context is it the civil society important or the governance by political parties is important? With some difference a noted English scholar John Locke also voices similar views. Today’s Pandava should realise that his ideas and views were responsible for intellectual revolution in Europeans and also gave birth to the American Declaration of Independence.  

The zing of unscrupulous rulers should not be intimidating Draupadi and Kurava. Today’s Mahabharat unfortunately does not have a Bhishma. Both Kaurava and Pandava have changed their colours and with this change, now  Kaurava must win. The battle ground is not very off from Kurukshetra where first Mahabharat took place. Kaurava army is swelling and Draupadi is leading the peaceful battle. Pandava had won Mahabharat with deceit, today also they want to try the same old trick for yet another win, but Kaurava are more alert, they have learnt from past experiences. They have decided not to take up the weapons and still win the war. The Shakuni Mama has changed the side, he went to guide the Pandava, however his wicked tricks will not work now. The game is on. Now the civil society is Kaurava and handful of Pandava are trying very hard to disrobe Draupadi and to further the misery of Kaurava. This has to stop and Pandava have to respect the natural rights and in turn the civil society. There is no Krishna (कृष्ण) to mediate, it’s we against corrupt you. Let’s resolve to win. Win without violence and with dignity.

Disclaimer: No disregard for Mahabharat is meant. I have immense respect for the same. The article is just to highlight how large numbers of people are supporting anticorruption drive and a handful of persons are not in favour. Apology in advance is any sentiments are hurt.

Govinda

It all started with Krishna (कृष्ण) who wanted to have his share of butter from the Gopis (गोपी). In the days when refrigerators did not exist, the only way to store butter was in earthen pots (Handi हंडी) and that too well above the ground. It served many purposes; the Handi (हंडी) kept the butter naturally cool and prevented melting. Tying the Handi (हंडी) well above the ground and close to the ceiling ensured better cooling due to air circulation and safety from cats, Krishna (कृष्ण) and his teammates. Krishna devised a simple method to reach the Handi (हंडी) by forming human pyramid. May be a two or three layer pyramid would suffice to reach to the Handi (हंडी) and ‘steal’ the butter.

It’s surprising how of all other communities, only the natives of Girgaum in south Mumbai picked up this act of Krishna and started the event that has today assumed large dimensions and is known as Govinda. What was once upon a time just emulating Krishna, turned into a social event and then a sport. The landlords of Girgaum on the day following the Krishna’s birth would mingle with their workforce, stand shoulder to shoulder to form the pyramid, hit the pot (हंडी) hanged well above the ground and share the contents that included eatables. It was truly a social event. Over period of time the nature of the game changed. It can be a matter of research, but not the scope of this article. The social event turned into a sport, first unorganised and later on organised. Local teams got formed. The landlord and workforce aspect got eliminated. Different people from all strata of the society joined hands for this event. As the height of the pot from the ground kept on rising; the eatables were replaced by cash. Higher the height more was the cash. Teams became mobile and started visiting neighbourhood to scale newer heights to break the Handi (हंडी) and of course to earn more prizes.

All this was fine and acceptable. But the politics crept in. The team size increased as the height of the Handi (हंडी) increased. The lowest circle had to be large with stout members, more layers were needed leading to increased numbers of team members. More the members, so the more expenses and this resulted in the need for a sponsor. And when the sponsors are needed, how could the politicians miss on the opportunity. Politicians always need followers, and that too at a minimal cost. Sponsorship that offered a tee shirt and a Vada Pav (वडापाव) with Chai (चाय)  a day was the least that a team would expect and the most that a politician would offer. More money would be spent on hoardings and media advertising. Due to higher expenses, the Handi (हंडी) with low prize money was not attracting the teams. The Handi (हंडी) went into a competitive spiral. Thanks to politicians. The Handi (हंडी) of few rupees started swelling. Hundreds became thousands, thousands became lacs and this year lacs have turned into crore. The greed increased, so the layers in the human pyramids increased. Seven layers to eight, eight layers to nine and this year nine layers to ten, making the sports more dangerous. Accidents became more common, resulting in death or paralyzed individuals. The sponsors offered lip sympathy or meager compensation in such cases. It is said that many a times the promised amounts were not paid even after taking all the risk to break the Handi (हंडी). Few sweet words and false promises help the politicians to keep the teams with them.

There is no doubt that this sport needs lot of organisation, planning, team work, physical efforts, strength and of course funds. Teams have to start the practice at least three months ahead. During this period the team members must have some incremental diet to meet the enhanced caloric requirements. The cost of this incremental diet can be minimum Rs.20/- per day per team member. If he team comprises of one hundred members then the incremental expenses are Rs.2000/- per day. For a period of three months it would be nearly Rs. 200,000/- per season. Add to this the travelling and other expenses incurred on administration, travelling etc. This all can run upto Rs.250,000/- at the least per team. To retain and motivate the participants who are mostly from poor families, the amount may have to be four to five times more than the bare minimum. If you want insurance and medical facilities, snacks on the D day, the expenses swell further. Does any sponsor rally shells out this kind of money? More money is spent on media. The electronic media is flooded with sponsorship advertisements. All political parties compete to gain the mileage at the cost of poor participants. The returns are minimal for the efforts. A team can break maximum three to four Handis (हंडी) in a day. In order to attract teams and for political propaganda the prize money keeps on increasing. Unfortunately at some places the Handi (हंडी) remains unbroken or the prize money promises are broken.

Govinda (गोविंदा) must remain a clean sport; remain away from politics and undesirable risks. It’s a cultural heritage and it should not get corrupted with politics, power play and money power. Healthy competition is welcome with organised efforts to take Govinda (गोविंदा)  around the world.

Have a safe and enjoyable Govinda (गोविंदा) . Best luck.

Independence or Liberation

Story of a common man in India. I am sure everyone must have noticed this or similar.

Rahul spent whole day waiting in a serpentine queue outside the college for his admission. His hard work to score over 98% in twelfth standard was evident from his frail figure. Right from ninth standard his growing years were confined to the four wall of his small house studying hard to score well in twelfth standard. He was shaken when he found his name in the waiting list for admission in the college. By end of the day all that he saw was admission to a mediocre student under some quota and rejection of his application. Clutching the crumpled mark list in his hand he headed towards his home, uncertain of the future in independent India. The system had rejected the talent.

Ramu walked eight kilometres to the nearest police station with his application. He had a small piece of land that he cultivated diligently. The approach to his farm was through a narrow strip of land in between the farms of two landlords. A local goon had encroached on this passage blocking way to his own farm. Ramu had no access to his farm as the neighbouring landlords did not allow him passage through their farms and the goon had blocked his path. The goon had started an illicit liquor distillery that was blooming with the blessings of local politicians. Ramu waited whole day holding the papers in his hand to meet the police sub inspector. By end of the day all that Ramu saw was the goon speeding away in his SUV along with the sub inspector. Clutching the crumpled paper soaked with his sweat Ramu headed home, uncertain of the future in independent India. The corruption had vetoed an honest worker.

Naresh joined civil services nearly thirty five years back. He was on verge of retirement. After faithfully serving the government he was falsely implicated in a scandal as he did not oblige the kin of a minister. Naresh was restlessly moving up and down the corridor in minister’s office for an audience. He wanted to be heard and his suspension order to be revoked. Whole day he has been pleading less than half of his age twelfth standard pass personal secretary of the minister for few a minutes’ audience. By end of the day all that Naresh saw was the minister leaving his chamber with his kin who was responsible for the problems that he had. Clutching his suspension order in one hand and wiping his tears with another, Naresh headed home, uncertain of his future in independent India. The nepotism had anguished a loyal worker.

Sita suffered from tuberculosis. She got the medication from government dispensary. For some strange reasons the medication did not work. The organism had become resistant to the drugs. It was feared that substandard medicines were supplied to the dispensary. The medical social worker helped her to reach government hospital. Sita was lying in one corner of the female ward in the government hospital on a small piece of gunny bag. There was no bed available for her. No one attended her for whole day. Late evening Sita saw a bed being prepared, she had a ray of hope. All that Sita saw by end of the day was the bed being allotted to a patient with mild fever, who was the housemaid of the doctor. She gathered strength to be on her feet, clutching her prescription in one hand, she picked up the gunny bag with another and headed for home, uncertain of her future in independent India. The favour had overruled the need.

Rita, right from midnight was standing in queue for darshan of her favourite deity. On an auspicious day the temple attracts large number of devotees, that includes a common man on the street to the powerful politicians and Bollywood actors. Holding the puja thali (पूजा थाली) in her hand she was praying and patiently waiting for her turn to get the glimpse of the deity. Sun was rising over the head and she was sweating. The queue was moving at snail’s speed. Just after the dusk her turn came. She was dictated by the priest to offer the payers as fast as she could. See looked at the deity, stood still, and closed her eyes for a moment, to pray for a better future, when someone pushed her out. All that she saw be end of the day was a Bollywood star being escorted to the temple to have close darshan  (दर्शन) of the deity. On her way out she was clutching the puja thali ( पूजा थाली) in her hand and was uncertain of the future in independent India. The devotion was crumpled by position.

Sixty four years after the independence, we are still uncertain of the future. We got the independence but not liberation. The independence has resulted in dependence on power centres. We were slaves of foreign rulers and now again we are slave of unscrupulous politicians, corruption, nepotism, systems, bureaucracy, redtapism, politics etc. Independence is a thing of the past, what we need is liberation.

Jai Hind




Disclaimer: Resemblance with situation or any person living or dead is purely coincidental.

Raksha Bandhan

Need protection then tie Rakhi. It's emotional binding. Anyone can tie Rakhi to any person from whom one desires the protection. In good old days wife tied Rakhi to husband to protect him from evil forces and sister did the same to her brother for same reasons and to seek protection for herself. In return gifts and assurance of protection were given by the person who got the Rakhi tied. 

As on date, for obvious reasons, we all need to tie Rakhi to someone to get us protected from unscrupulous politician, corruptions and anarchy. 

This is the mantra for tying Rakhi.

येनबद्धो बलिराजा दानवेन्द्र: महासुर: । 

तेन त्वां प्रतिबद्ध नामि रक्षो मा चल मा चल ।।

Meaning - 

Just as the great King Baliraja, the great leader of duality, the king of all manifested existence, was bound by truth, just so do I bind you to protect me through all the movements of  life 

Enjoy Raksha Bandhan

Enjoy Raksha Bandhan

Patriotism on Sale

Come August and January every year and we find patriotism on ‘sale’. Every traffic signal has hoards of children pestering vehicle owners and passer-by to purchase a national flag or similar products depicting the tri-colour. This is very peculiar to our country. I have never seen such a ‘sale’ in the second largest democracy in the world.

Do we really need to sell patriotism? Perhaps ‘yes’, in our democracy. There is a huge market flooded with buyers. There are many who buy it twice a year, in August and January, just like observing fast on Ashadhi (आषाढी) and Kartiki (कार्तिकी)  Ekadashi (एकादशी).  Some need to buy it to display patriotism. They have to show it to others to get appreciation from them. It’s like observing a day’s fast to wash out sins. Many a times I find when hard core non-vegetarians are forced to adapt vegetarian meals or to observe fast during some religious events, they wait eagerly for the fasting period to be over so that they can bounce back on their favourite meals/meats. Likewise many unpatriotic activities conducted during January to August period can be washed away on August 15^th under the grab of patriotism and August to January sins can be washed on Republic Day.

The patriotism should be displayed by some long-term philanthropic activities. Distribution of fruits or sweets to patients or prisoners once or twice a year is not enough. Year round activities to alleviate the pain of patients can be more desirable. Reforming the prisoners on long term basis is also laudable. How can display of national flag on shirt or car dashboard be termed as patriotism? How can the crispy white cap be a symbol of patriotism? Can these and similar be the real parameters of patriotism? No one can buy or sell patriotism. It has to come from within. It has to be in one’s character. Will the politicians engaged in scams ever understand this. For them perhaps a twice a year display is enough. It has rather become a ritual. A political ritual in independent India.

The flags are bought or sold for display of patriotism. No one is bothered to look into Flag Code. The design and manufacturing process for the national flag is regulated by three documents issued by the Bureau of Indian Standards (BIS), but does anyone really bothers? Originally only Khadi was to be used for the flags, either cotton or silk, and that too in a count of 150 threads per centimetre. Any violation of protocols, guidelines for manufacture or display or use are punishable by law with imprisonment up to three years, or a fine, or both. Unfortunately it is observed that a day after the Independence Day, many flags and those that are bought for display of patriotism are not disposed as per the guidelines given in Flag Code of India. We must respect the flag.Independence Day is round the corner. Please give a thought before you buy a flag. 

The national flag must get the respect and if you can do that then only buy a flag, that too the one that conforms to the guidelines of BIS. Patriotism that’s within needs no means for display. 

Jai Hind.