Manoj and Babli - A Hate Story. By Chander Suta Dogra

A decade ago when I was attending a study program at the Asia Pacific Centre for Security Studies at Hawaii, I chose ‘Identity Politics and Ethnicity’ as an elective subject. It was taught by the venerable scholar Robert Wirsing who, on more than one occasion informed us in a voice that could have stopped a cavalry charge, “Culture matters!”

Culture matters to people. It gives them a sense of identity, even stability, and fuses unwritten laws into collective DNA with that blowtorch called ‘emotion’. It often holds rationality with disdain of the ill-informed and embraces past with dangerous naivety.  

In her first book, Chander Suta Dogra has traced the tale of a young couple, Manoj and Babli, who were brutally killed for having married against the dictates of their culture. This dastardly practice goes by the sobriquet of ‘honour killing’ and never has the word honour been put to a more severe test of irony.

Her riveting account has a chilling opening. The contemporariness of the bloody incident – it happened in 2007 – is shocking and depressing even to someone who is aware that the practice exists in pockets of this region. But it is also a tale of amazing courage of a handful of women - the mother and sister of the deceased boy, an intrepid judge who sentenced the culprit to death and a NGO-worker – all of who refused to bow to the powerful khap panchayats (caste based local bodies) and risked their lives to secure convictions for the murderers. They climbed a steep curve and surmounted isolation, penury, hostility of a trenchantly patriarchal society, indifference and even criminal culpability of police and convenience of politicians. They provide the light that makes the prospects of traversing a long and gloomy tunnel tolerable.

There is more to cheer about. It is evident that there is an evolving awareness that is beginning to germinate in dry sands of ‘tradition’. It is incipient and it is against all odds. But watered by the occasional drizzle of contact with modernity, it gives every indication of flowering someday.   

The writing style is easy and effective. It is an extremely well-researched work that rings true all the way. The sheer grip of the events makes it hard to put down; I read it in gulps. And the narrative has been garnished with dialogue to add life to the story.

Both for inspiration and jolting middle-class indifference out of its stupor, I recommend this book.

Flow: the Psychology of Optimal Experience

Flow – the Psychology of Optimal Experience is about everything that the title promises – the secret of enjoying the optimal experience – that period when immersed in an activity you experience near-seamless joy. All of us experience it in snatches while being engaged in activities that interest and challenge us adequately, for example, reading a wonderful book, writing to our satisfaction, painting, preparing a presentation, making a draft, building a structure, learning to play an instrument…. If only we could be in that trance like flow forever!

You would notice I did not include mindless surfing of the Net or pushing buttons on remote among those activities. Flow, we learn, is only produced by activities that add to our inner growth and complexity. The rest – like lolling in the bed, gazing at a screen, chatting, drinking or even sex – might give us a spot of happiness but once the activity is over, the experience is rarely carried forward into other areas of life to experience joy.

Flow occurs when you lose the sense of time and appear to have quieted that incessant chatter that fills up our heads all the time. That optimal experience is called Flow. And this book by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi – if you can pronounce his name you are a person with infinitely greater supernatural powers than anyone I know – dissects the phenomenon and gives you all the ingredients for you to cook your own meal from your own recipe. In that sense, it is not a ‘how-to’ book, though, with careful contemplation one can elicit a great deal of self-help wisdom.

The basic premise of the book is that mastery over or bringing order to consciousness is the key to living in the flow. Attention is the critical tool for that mastery. But given the fact that most of the human race simply cannot live in the now and finds it hard to embrace mindfulness, how are we to get there?

The author makes several points and some of them bear repeating in full. I quote:

Happiness is not something that happens. It is not the result of good fortune or random chance. It does not depend on outside events but how we interpret them. People who can learn to control their inner experience will be able to determine the quality of their lives, which is as close as any of us can come to being happy.

It is by being involved with every detail of our lives, whether good or bad, that we find happiness, not by trying to look for it directly.

The best moments usually occur when a person’s body or mind is stretched to its limits in a voluntary effort to accomplish something difficult and worthwhile. Optimal experience is thus something that we make happen. It must be pointed out that such experiences are necessarily not pleasant when they occur – remember the long march in an exercise or the cross country run or the long preparation before an exam or presentation? But in the long run optimal experiences add up to a sense of mastery – or perhaps better, a sense of participation in determining the content of life – that comes as close to what is usually meant by happiness as anything else we can conceivably imagine.

Because optimal experience depends on the ability to control what happens in consciousness moment by moment, each person has to achieve it on the basis of his own individual effort and creativity.

The optimal state of inner experience is one which there is order in consciousness. This happens when psychic energy – or attention – is invested in realistic goals, and when skills match the opportunities for action.

The problem arises when people are so fixated on what they want to achieve that they cease to derive pleasure from the present. When that happens, they forfeit their chance of contentment.

One of the main forces that affects consciousness adversely is psychic disorder – that is information that conflicts with existing intentions, or distracts us from carrying them out. We give this condition many names, depending on how we experience it: pain, fear, rage, anxiety, or jealousy.

Whenever information disrupts consciousness by threatening its goals we have a condition of inner disorder, or psychic entropy, a disorganization of the self that impairs its effectiveness. Prolonged experience can weaken the self to the point that it is no longer able to invest attention and pursue its goals.

The opposite state from the condition of psychic entropy is optimal experience. When we choose a goal and invest ourselves in it to the limits of our concentration, whatever we do will be enjoyable. Doing this over and over again is how the self grows.

A person who is never bored, seldom anxious, involved with what goes on, and in flow most of the time may be said to have an autotelic self. His goals mostly originate from within himself.

Rules for developing such a self are simple:

Setting Goals. To be able to experience flow, one must have clear goals to strive for – from lifelong commitments to trivial decisions. Selecting a goal is related to recognition of challenge. As soon as the goals and challenges define a system of action, they in turn suggest the skills necessary to operate within it.

Becoming Immersed in Activity. Involvement is greatly facilitated by the ability to concentrate. People who suffer from attention disorders, who cannot keep their minds from wandering, always feel left out of the flow of life.

Paying Attention to what is Happening. Concentration leads to involvement, which can only be maintained by constant inputs of attention. Having an autotelic self implies the ability to sustain involvement. The elements of autotelic personality are linked to one another by links of mutual causation. It does not matter where one starts – whether one chooses goals first, develops skills, cultivates the ability to concentrate, or gets rid of self-consciousness. One can start anywhere, because once the flow experience is in motion the other elements will be much easier to attain. The autotelic individual grows beyond the limits of individuality by investing psychic energy into a system in which she is included.

Learning to Enjoy Immediate Experience. The outcome of having an autotelic self is that one can enjoy life even when the objective circumstances are brutish and nasty. To achieve this control, however, requires determination and discipline. One must develop skills that stretch capacities.

Unquote.

I have reproduced excerpts at length because it is difficult to make a case for Flow without going over many contours. It is an excellent treatise and written in the easy style of great teachers. Highly recommended!

I am now reading the author’s next offering Creativity – Flow and the Psychology of Discovery and Invention. Watch this space. 

Half of a Yellow Sun

War is tragic and pointless. It is a monstrous game invented by the human race in the mistaken belief that it leads to something glorious and meaningful. It is a cauldron that cooks a toxic brew of hate, insular ‘patriotism’, negativity, violence and every other base instinct that lies buried in our collective psyche. It is a self-inflicted injury that is mistaken for a cure.

The story and characters of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Half of a Yellow Sun ride piggy-back on the contours of the Nigeria-Biafra war of late Sixties. Their fortunes mostly plunge downwards as the South-Eastern region of Biafra makes a misplaced attempt to secede from the remainder Nigeria.

Adichie is a consummate story teller. Comparison with her previous work The Purple Hibiscus is, perhaps unfair, but inevitable. Half of a Yellow Sun is a far larger canvas. Character after character is developed and pushed into the well-told story. The pain and destruction – both physical and psychological – of people caught in the crossfire of conflict are etched with understanding and empathy.

But very largely, there are few twists in the tale and an air of predictably hangs over it. It is not hard to predict the gradual depletion of the spirits of Odenigbo – the Professor and the master of the house. His occasional indiscretion can be seen before it happens. The life of his wife, the beautiful and sagacious Olamna also runs a predictable course. Ugwu, the somewhat precocious servant-boy does depart from the script by a display of heroics but soon returns to the original trajectory. Richard the expatriate who considers himself a Biafrian, also sticks to his expected ‘brief’. This is merely to report on the book as I saw it and not meant to be a criticism of the master story-teller.

In fact, the story closely mirrors life – even in the midst of great upheavals, most lives rarely experience game-changing cataclysm.           

A Post Walk Break....

An evening walk and then a break to enjoy the view!

Outside on the tarmac, Jacarandas lay out a special welcome, especially for the morning walker.

Daddy and I Visited Simla

Daddy and I visited Simla - his first in 50 years to this hill station. Mummy and he had spent a few years here and I had attended the Portmore school as a nursery student. I did walk through the school (in uniform, if you please!) and only when a curious teacher asked me if i wanted to meet someone I revealed that I was an alumni. She appeared quite thrilled!

Amritsar - the Golden Temple

A visit to the Golden temple is always uplifting. This was my third. We went at dawn and already huge crowds were thronging for darshan. The queues were dauntingly long and it was great relief that we were quickly taken to the sanctum as so-called VIPs. It was a day of fairly long walks for Mummy and Daddy and they took it very well indeed. A few pictures:

The pligrims' progress.

Amritsar

We made a trip to Amritsar where I had an official engagement.Mummy, Daddy, Neeti and I used this opportunity to see the theatrical display of militarism at the Wagah-Atari Joint Checkpost, pay obeisance at the Golden Temple at dawn and see the historic - though poorly maintained - Jallianwala Bagh where so many innocents shed blood when Gen Dyer ordered indiscriminate firing on 13th of April 1919.

At the end of the day, Mummy too shed some blood when she fell outside the Guest Room and her spectacles caused a gash above the eyebrow. She is recovering and the staple will be removed tomorrow. Here is the first lot of pictures:

 Mummy and Neeti shortly after Mummy's wound had been stapled at the hospital.

 We are standing in front of the wall that bears the bullet marks (highlighted with white rectangles) of that day in April 1919.

 Awaiting the start of the ceremony, Mummy and Daddy posed for us.

 Neeti in front of the Indo-Pak gate.

At the 'Zero Point'. The onlookers in the backdrop (and the soldier with a high turban) are all Pakistanis.

PS - Photos at the Golden Temple follow.

Two Days In The Lives Of...

...us all.

Daddy turned 85 on the 21st and today, Mummy and Daddy had their Diamond Jubilee - sixty years of togetherness. We took a conscious decision to postpone the large-scale celebrations for a bit, when a few more family members can gather. Maybe we will await Siddharth's return later this year. I wonder if Chachaji is getting encouraged to make a plan too!

Here are a few snaps, taken on those two days - of a visit to the Mansa Devi temple, a tea-party complete with cakes and some photo-sessions. There is also a priceless reminder of the day in 1952.

 Has a great deal changed in 60 year? I don't know. But, as you would notice from the pictures of 1952 and 2012, when it all began, she stood on his left a s a junior partner. Somewhere down the line, the roles quietly reversed.

 These pictures were taken at the nearby Mansa Devi temple.

 Everyone in the family called to wish. Here is Sid Bali using his charms on a long-distance Google assisted video call. Others in the picture are his Dada, Dadi and Nana.

 This photograph is sponsored by Mummy (she gifted the shirt he is wearing).

 Is anything ever complete without a 10,000 calorie cake laden with enough sugar to sweeten a mid-sized lake?

Punam bhuaji, Vijay uncle and the young Arnav joined us.

On Being Successful

Philosopher Nassim Nicholas Taleb has written:

A trivial and potent heuristic to figure out success: 

a) you are absolutely successful if and only if you don't envy anyone; 

b) quite successful if those you envy you don't know in person; 

c) miserably unsuccessful if those you envy you encounter or think about daily.

Absolute success is mostly found among ascetic persons.

I agree. Weighed under the burdens of ego one compulsively compares and contrasts oneself with others, thus evoking feelings of envy and inferiority. But if one is largely bereft of such ego, envy of others' possessions or success naturally does not occur. One simply goes about life's business living in the Now and focussing on the work at hand. That is the only route to fit Talib's category of being 'absolutely successful'. 

The inhabitants of the other two categories have success and misery in direct proportion to the degree of influence of ego in their daily lives.

Simple. Profound.

Out of Hospital!

Finally, we left Fortis and returned home. There are miles to go yet - Daddy is still doing a laboured and halting walker-assisted shuffle twice a day, though the improvement, howsoever slight, is also clearly noticeable.

Now starts the phase of recovery in the familiar environment of home.

Fortis people were magnificent, it must be said. The hospital staff - doctors, nurses, housekeeping assistants - is extremely professional and warm in its approach. It was truly a wonderful experience, in spite of the anxiety and pain we suffered on account of his slow recovery.

Now to different topics...

Hospital - Day Fourteen

If I was asked to give a headline to the day, it would be, "He is back in game"!

He is well and truly back in his orientation. Usually I would have said that if he begins to bully Mummy, it would be the clearest possible sign that things are normal. In this case I will not apply that yardstick; he isn't bullying her, but is back to cracking all the jokes.

He walked twice today. The effort is still clearly massive for him. Often, he needs a break after a few steps. But the progress is unmistakable and it is all in the right direction.

It would appear to me that today is our penultimate day in the hospital. Tomorrow evening we should be home. Indeed, today I discussed the matter with him and he was happy to hear that.

A great deal of effort went into making him walk - most of it his. The other big supportive 'push' came from Sunil who gave the impetus to move him over the initial mental hump. Today, Anju and Sunil returned to Delhi, as did Pallavi and Abhishek.

More tomorrow....

Hospital - Day Thirteen

Lucky thirteen!

The new day began as the last one had ended. Not in our wildest hopes had we suspected that he was about to give us a surprise!

When the physiotherapists arrived, assisted mainly by Sunil, he tentatively began to stand up. All the signs pointed to the repetition of the old script - a tense, reluctance-filled and anxiety-laden effort that invariably ended in heartbreaking failure. Not this time! He began to stand (with a little help) and then move one foot after another, slowly (and somewhat imperfectly).....and then, for the next 15 minutes (and nearly 40 metres) he did not stop! We applauded him from his bedroom through the door to the corridor outside and then back. In the corridor, a number of people stood and admired while we clicked pictures and made a video (you can see these below). As Mummy later put it, "Sara mohalla bahar aa gaya" ("the entire street came out").

Having achieved this first, he ate a hearty meal, wiping every morsel off the plate. And then he slept like a baby.

In the evening, another effort was made, successfully. A shorter distance was covered and the effort needed was greater; clearly the morning exercise had left him exhausted.

All in all a great day, one that almost qualifies to be a 'miracle'. And for me, a great - perhaps the best - birthday gift on my 54th!

More tomorrow...

Happy birthday Dad

Dear Dad

Wish you a happy birthday.

Dadaji's amazing recovery in health today is not a mere coincidence, but an appropriate gift by a higher power for all the extra love and support you have given to dadaji in the past few days.

Will Skype /gtalk with the family soon.

With love

Your youngest monkey

Sid

Hospital - Day Twelve

Another day has gone by without progress. Obviously, it is not for want of effort - everyone is doing his best and today Sunil and a new physiotherapist spent a great deal of time to bring about a change. Later. Bela and Ginni visited and another effort was made.

What is the problem? It is hard to say for sure but a few conclusions are obvious. There is an unknown and nameless fear in his mind that freezes him up whenever it comes to standing up or walking. He is mostly alright when he is reclining; indeed sometimes he is usual humorous self, twisting every phrase to produce a funny variant. But come the time for exercise and standing up, his body goes so stiff that he is trembling and loses all control over his thoughts and even bowels.

This is hugely disconcerting, of course, not the least so because we have known to be a largely fearless and strong individual for all our lives. The physiotherapists and the doctors are struggling with us to find an answer, but beyond understanding that there is a psychological block (perhaps carried over from his ICU psychosis) there have been no sure-footed answers.

It is equally clear that his legs are strong and his upper body too is capable of the effort, should his mind allow him to.

We have to take a call on the 7th of April. The doctors will decide if a change in tack is needed or to discharge him so that the familiar environments of home will hasten the recovery. The latter option requires that we first make the logistical arrangements to take care of him in this bed-ridden state.

This very unexpected twist in the story that began a fortnight ago has impacted all of us. Abhishek and Pallavi came in today and met him. Sunil and Anju have been here for the past three days. Neeti and I are, of course, here.

I must add that through this trial Mummy has shown outstanding character. Sure, she has cried on a few occasions but mostly she has been full of humour, cheering us all up and staying back in the hospital for the last two nights, in spite of her own fragile health.

As I said, a final call will be taken on Saturday. By and large, I am in agreement with the surgeon who did the operation that we must not 'push' him against his fears; that might have greater unintended negative consequence. Instead, patience and care might be the key. That is the route we intend to follow.

More tomorrow.... 

Hospital - Day Eleven

It appears that the 'celebrations' were premature; the 5th of April turned out to be a tough day - indeed the worst day I can think of in years. Daddy went back to his old ways and steadfastly refused to exercise, much less stand or walk. We have been desperately seeking answers behind his reservations - is it a fear, a pain, an unknown anxiety, a what...? But we can't fathom. Every check-up shows that he has the strength and recovery to do something that similarly placed patients routinely do - stand and walk with the help of a walker. In his case, we are drawing a blank and making him angry.

More tomorrow....   

A Happy Postscript: Hospital - Day Ten

Just as we were winding up for the day, Daddy made another effort - aided by Dr Kang, me and a walker - to stand. And, wonders of wonders, he did. He also took a couple of steps; a chaotic and messy effort to be sure, dragging his feet rather than lifting them, but a start all the same. All this while, we held him only in a token fashion!

Here, by the grace of God, goes he!

Hospital - Day Ten

This post is being written a bit earlier than usual as I have decided to take a night's break from the hospital; its been nine days and I feel that I need a visit out of the hospital. I am being replaced by Neeti and her aunt Munni.

At 6 PM, we are still searching for progress. For some reason, Daddy is not standing up. I have spoken to him at length, consulted with doctors, shown him videos of other patients walking around....but there appears to be a strange fear or anxiety in his mind that is preventing him from standing up. Frankly, the situation is becoming a bit desperate.

Sunil and Anju are arriving tomorrow and Pallavi and Abhishek on the day after.

More tomorrow...

Hospital - Day Nine

Another day has come and gone and I am afraid I have no fresh progress to report. It is perplexing why Daddy is unable to stand. He does physiotherapy exercises quite well and apparently has little or no pain. But when it comes to standing with the help of a walker, the situation remains at the starting blocks. It is almost as if he is afraid to stand. We encourage, persuade and cajole. The physiotherapy team does its best. But no go, so far.

He also resists proper diet and medication - that can't be helping the cause.

Tomorrow, however, is another day....

Hospital - Day Eight

The two pictures at the end of this brief post convey a cheery mood. Indeed, when these were taken, the mood was upbeat. But, sadly, these were two of the few brief shining moments.

First the good news. There is progress and slow and ponderous it might be, it is in the right direction. All the essential parameters are good.

What is somewhat worrisome is the slowness of the ability to as much as stand on his own feet (with the help of a walker), much less walk. It is taking four people to make him stand even for a few moments. There seems to be a lack of confidence somewhere that is inhibiting him from standing straight.

Later in the evening when Dr Manuj Wadhwa, the extremely affable surgeon, paid a visit, Daddy tried standing with an effort that was better than all the previous ones. It is obvious that he does not lack the strength - in legs or arms - and will surely surmount the current slightly puzzling challenge.

Our stay in the hospital has been extended by two days and now we are 'scheduled' to leave on the 4th of April. The issue of making requisite progress - be able to stand, walk and visit a toilet using a walker - has acquired some urgency.

Here are the two happy pictures from the day....

Hospital - Day Seven

As per the original plan, today would have been the penultimate day; the discharge had been scheduled for the 2nd. Things have moved rather slowly, however, mainly on account from recovery out of 'ICU Psychosis' and we are likely to be here for another three days.

Daddy is doing well, sleeping reasonably deeply, connecting with everyone and quite determined to make a recovery. But some things are clearly not in his control and, therefore, efforts to make him stand with a walker's support have not been fully successful. He bore far greater weight on his feet today but the exercise was imperfect. He is yet to take the first steps, of course.

Last night, at a quarter to four, he and I had a nice conversation about the period 1960-64, spanning our move from Dharamshala to Shimla and later to Chandigarh, the Indo-Chinese conflict of 1962 and Nehru's death. It was amazing how his mind got stimulated to pick even the smallest details - characteristics of his landlord, a milkman who mixed water in the milk he supplied, my rolling down a slope and getting hurt (I was four years old) and the nicely painted board of my first school, Vidya Mandir. After this little chat, he enjoyed a chilled rasgulla and went back to sleep!

Hospital - Day Six

If last night had been taken as a yardstick, we would have something real to worry about. Anju and I stayed with Daddy and much to our surprise he did not sleep a wink through the night. In fact, I don't think he even batted an eye-lid - such were his nameless anxieties. He was constantly battling fears that must have been swimming through his consciousness. When I repeatedly quizzed him, he pointed to large water-body (he was looking at the ceiling) or non-existent slope that was threatening to take him down or his wet feet (they were wiped repeatedly) or his desire to leave his bed to visit wash-room.....

So, Anju and I took turns to stay up, and by the morning we were puzzled and worried.

The day has turned out a whole lot better - in fact the best so far. He has stayed orientated through the day, rarely slipping back into the silent reverie and state of palpable anxiety. He stayed engaged with Mummy, Neeti, Sunil, Anju and me. Later in the evening, he surprised all of us by informing Punam Bhuaji and Vikky that he has had knee replacement operation! This is the first time he has acknowledged this fact.

He responded well to physiotherapy exercises, though it must be said that due to his lowered levels of situational awareness, he has not been able to stand on his own (with the help of a walker), much less walk. To that extent, he is behind schedule and may not be discharged on Monday as planned by the hospital.

As I said, the day was largely a happy one and I am posting a few pictures to share some of those moments.

     More tomorrow......

Hospital - Day Five

The day began on a cheery note and has largely stayed that way.

Early in the day it was decided to bring Daddy out of the ICU and into his room in the hospital. We had hoped that getting closer to all of us and to 'reality', he will move out of his disconnected state.

That came true when he returned and the accompanying photos tell most of the happy tale. He began to crack jokes, discuss politics and appeared back in form - except for a slur that is the legacy of days of sedation. After lunch he slept well, entertaining Mummy, Neeti and me with his snores.

Later he again appeared to go back into the shell, making us worried. Sunil and Anju arrived late evening and he cheered up again.

Incidentally, he also sang four songs for mummy - and as I was telling her, it was terrific that he always got her name right while singing those romantic songs!

   He was put through a bit of physiotherapy today and he took it well and without any visible discomfort. Tomorrow is an important day - he will be made to stand and even walk.

More tomorrow...

Hospital - Day Four

There has been a perceptible improvement in Daddy's condition. He is recognizing everyone better and slipping back into 'ICU Psychosis' less often. Having said that, the progress has been slower than our anticipation and as a result we have had to push the day of leaving the ICU by 24 hours.

Mummy and Neeti got to spend time with him; and, of course, I got loads of the opportunity because I am the 'authorised attendant' and he appears to comply with my directions almost implicitly. There have been a few exceptions though - at one point when he was refusing to let go of the bed railings (delirium has induced thoughts of 'slipping down a slope' perhaps towards 'water') with such force that was sending his pulse rate shooting to excess of 140 (briefly), I tried several tacks and finally told him, "If you don't let go and sleep, I will miss my meals and sleep too". The parental instinct kicked in immediately and he began to obey again! Amazing!

Tomorrow - Friday, the 30th of March - call will be taken to shift him out of the ICU and into the room. I am sure that and the first few steps that he will be made to take with the help of a walker will make a great deal of difference to pull him out of this disconnected state.

More tomorrow....   

Hospital - Day Three

I must admit that it has been a rather difficult day; though there is nothing to worry about at the end of it.

The good news first. Daddy is apparently not in any pain at all. His essential parameters have been good for most part of the day. He is being well taken care of in the ICU.

He has, however, remained completely disorientated and restless. He recognises me and listens to my requests, but for all the others, he poses a bit of a struggle. It is clear that he does not realize that he is in a hospital and tries to get up almost every minute, sometimes to go to 'office' or 'cross the water' or 'look for his mobile from top of the fridge' or to 'hand me a set of keys'. Heavy sedation has rendered his speech somewhat unintelligible and one has to strain to hear the mumbling. He is, however, strong as ever and held on to my hand and the bed railing with such force that surprised even me.

As I said, his basic health indicators are good. His blood pressure is within limits, the amount of oxygen usage excellent and the pulse a shade high. He could use with some more sleep though! But the amount od sedation is being limited to the bare minimum so that he recovers to 'normalcy' as soon as possible.

The doctors have assured him that this delirious condition - known apparently as 'ICU Psychosis' is not unusual and he will emerge out of it in another 24 hours or so. His shifting out of the ICU and into the room has, however, been put off and a fresh call will be taken tomorrow.

I also must admit that it is extremely hard to see one's parent in this condition. While outwardly remaining calm is, of course, the key to helping him the best, inside it is a reversal of roles where I feel like a parent now. I am glad, though, that he is receiving top-notch treatment from a very professional lot of doctors and nurses. It is almost as if Fortis uses 'being happy and positive' as the main criteria for selection of its employees.

I am staying on in the hospital (the place is wonderfully comfortable!) and I am writing this post from the hospital so that all the family members can be fully updated.

More tomorrow....       

Hospital - Day Two

On a pleasant pre-summer morning, Mummy and I drove down to Fortis to be with Daddy before 7 AM; he was likely to move to operation theatre by 8. Mummy was initially not slated to come but I was persuaded by her absolute keenness and indeed steadfast refusal to stay back.

Daddy was all smiles as he was wheeled in. And when he emerged a quarter past 11, he appeared disorientated but at peace. He told us that he did not feel any pain at all - indeed he did not even know that the surgeon had been repairing him so radically. When a nurse goaded him playfully to confess that, surely, he would have heard some noise, he emphatically said no. Ah, the benefits of less than perfect hearing!

Later in the afternoon, just after Mummy returned home (I plan to stay back overnight for the next five days), Sunil surprised us by arriving. He was with me for a couple of hours and we even managed to get him an audience with Daddy. That is so much like Sunil - always ready to stretch himself for others.

Things changed a great deal in the afternoon as the effect of anaesthesia wore off and Daddy, now in ICU, became even more disoriented. Without going into too many details I want to let everyone know that he began to complain of pain and appeared disoriented even more. I am not sure he knows if his operation is over. Perhaps he does. I have been by his side for a few hours now and after several doses of intravenous pain-killers, he is now napping. His parameters are all good. I am assured by the doctors that the experience that he is going through is hardly uncommon.

More later.....      

Hospital - Day One

Daddy was admitted to the Fortis Hospital Mohali today. He left in high spirits and is all geared up for the knees-replacement operation.

He was delighted with the welcome he got at the professionals of Fortis - a far cry from the indifference of Govt hospitals and dispensaries. He has a full suite to himself - a room for him and another, a living room, for the visitors. Both have spick and span restrooms, televisions and host of other amenities completely unknown to public healthcare!

 The operation is slated for tomorrow morning at 8 AM. I will be staying with him through the week (the attendant too gets to stay in style!

Being And Nothingness (Or Living on the Facebook)

Why are we on Facebook? And why can’t we get off it?

It will be presumptuous if I were to pretend that what I am about to say applies to all or even a fraction of those who spend disproportionate parts of their daily life on Facebook; looking at what must finally count as very inane stuff, snooping around others’ pictures, cutting-and-pasting, returning to see whether someone – anyone – has ‘liked’ our offerings, posting pictures for world at large to admire, saying clever stuff that must bring silent applause of the admiring masses, pasting feel-good bits of advice that rarely leads to actionable wisdom, showing solidarity with causes that will hopefully reflect the supporter’s magnificent civic concerns (lending a shoulder to finding a missing girl child last seen in Latvia or Lesotho, marshaling friends to donate blood to a heart-rending emergency in Papua New Guinea), or even playfully poking and – Lord be merciful – raising chickens on imaginary farms. If this sounds derisive, it shouldn't – I have done my share of all of this and more.

Of course, Facebook lets us stay in touch with ‘loved ones’; where else would I see the latest pics of Pallavi and Abhishek unless they mailed me directly or posted them on a family blog? Facebook also ‘reminds’ us of others’ birthdays; but deep inside I know that I never missed one even in pre-Facebook days. Then, you could follow The Economist or the New York Times on Facebook and remain updated all the time. Or would you? Isn't it far more cost-effective to go directly to the sites you dig?

So let us cut the chase and get to one view – mine – of why Facebook remains an addictive attraction. I will pare it down to two reasons.

One, addiction to Facebook is mostly a desperate lunge by our Ego to seek acknowledgement and approval. This works in several obvious ways, but let me recount a few.

Ego constantly seeks feedback that says ‘you are liked’ (or admired or considered a ‘brain’ or a beauty or….) through almost everything on Facebook. Sure, most others hardly care for what we post, except a few who read it for amusement. Most acknowledge it only in the hope that their own good taste will thus be silently acknowledged by others; yet others to re-post and get some positive feedback for themselves. Yet the game goes on and on. Such a huge effort and investment of time only to elicit bits and pieces – the word ‘crumbs’ comes so readily to mind – of positive feedback! Is it any wonder that even years of being there still leave us feeling vacuous and unfulfilled?

After all, the way to all fulfillment is to take exactly the opposite route; to be constantly mindful of the devil called Ego that lurks and lurks, whispering mischievous and even poisonous bits of advice in our ears, always drawing us away from the fact that we are already complete and do not need even a moment’s approval of another, leave alone be mired in this quicksand forever. To be aware that we are not our Ego is to live fully. And by confusing the feedback loop implicit in activities of the Facebook, we allow ourselves to sink yet deeper.

Two, all addiction is a cry for finding joy. Isn't ‘joy’ that magic that ultimately all of us seek? But is there ever ‘joy’ to be found in any form of addiction? Alas, there is ‘happiness’ of the moment, but no ‘joy’. The morning-after proves that the drunken revelry of the evening was no more than a self-injected dose of anesthesia and that the only lasting imprint of the last cigarette will be traced on the lungs, teeth and fingers. The reason for the failure to chase gratification and happiness has been pointed out to us by sages. Happiness is always dependent on someone or something outside of us – perhaps always involving a bit of ego-pampering – whereas ‘joy’ is always the flow emerging from within. Anyone who has lost hours engaged in doing something he or she truly loved knows what joy is - reading a wonderful book, sketching, even working on a mathematical problem or repairing a car. As does someone who finds it in things and phenomenon where feedback is not an issue at all – a beautiful landscape, a breathtaking photograph, a child’s chortle….. All addiction fails in the long run – indeed the effects last only as long as one is practicing it.

Any addiction can be submitted to this test. Being addicted to Facebook certainly belongs to the undistinguished list of ‘addictions’.

So, should we now reach for Deactivate My Account button? Who am I to say? But perhaps, we can constantly be mindful of what we are doing there. Eternal vigilance against the machination of our Ego is always the key. Perhaps we can truly use this platform to be connected with people we really wish to and see it as a form of technology to share with those who truly matter. This holds good for those on Facebook who have this lingering suspicion that they are onto something quite pointless, even harmful but are not sure if courage for instant ejection can be summoned.

So whether you choose to remain on Facebook forever or take that step and be free from Facebook - just be mindful that you are doing it for the right reasons.

Plan For Daddy's Operation

Looks like we have arrived at that point in our planning when Daddy is on the threshold of getting brand new knees! The winters are nearly over and everything is in place.

The chosen hospital is the Fortis, Mohali. All the tests have been done and it has been determined that medically, he is good and ready for the operation. Mentally, of course, he is hard as nails!

26th March is the date of admission. The operation is slated for the 27th. He will be attended to in the ICU on the 27th and 28th. He is will rest and recuperate in a room from 29th to the 2nd of April. Back home on the 2nd!

I will keep everyone posted with posts and pictures.

The Great Indian Middle Class by Pawan K Varma

I read this book 12 years ago and came across my notes this morning. I think that this book remains a very important work towards understanding the attitudes, inclinations, compulsions and impulses of our nation's middle class. Here are the notes:

The book argues that the lack of social concern of the Indian middle class is detrimental to the health of the nation and the class' own long term interests. The complete apathy towards the unwashed masses as the nation continues to march down the road to become a mere market or aggregation of demands can cause dangerous social upheavals in the future. Excerpts:

The Relevance of Beginnings

The creation of a native elite in its own image was the most spectacular and enduring achievement of British colonialism in India.

The social segment from which these new beneficiaries came represented largely a continuity: middle class Indians from an educated background.......

.....The members of the nascent Indian middle class in the nineteenth century did not feel a sense of humiliation in collaborating with the agencies of British rule. Indeed...they had acquired a stake in the perpetuation of the British rule.

Yet it (the early Indian National Congress) was essentially an upper- and middle class affair...

(The freedom movement led by Gandhi) involved the masses without empowering them. 

Through their participation for the struggle for freedom acquired the profile of a mass movement; but essentially the focus of power and control remained where they always have been - with dominant elites.

It was more than evident that both the Hindu and Muslim communities were inegalitarian, and each preserved an elite segment that was less than inclined towards a genuine empowerment of the masses and the inevitable socio-economic destabilization that this would involve. The conjuring up of an external threat to the community enabled these vested interests to divert attention away from pressures from the internal restructuring of their communities.

The Age of Hope

Freedom came in 1947, but the nature of the entrenchment of the middle and upper classes under British rule, and their leadership of the freedom movement ensured that the institutions built up during the colonial era remained largely intact.

Fortunately for the middle class in India, the freedom movement had generated a powerful ethical and intellectual legacy....... This legacy was symbolized in the compellingly charismatic personalities of Gandhi and Nehru.

These (communal tolerance, belief in parliamentary democracy, romanticization of India's past etc) were the elements that coalesced to form the ideological framework of the Indian middle class at the time of independence.

Such parameters of social interaction were linked with another aspect: a conscious ceiling on material wants.... Material pursuits were subsumed in a larger framework that did not give them the aggressive primacy that they have acquired today.

The hold of the past ensured the continuity of traditional religious practices; the aspiration to be modern resulted in these practices surviving only as a mechanical ritual.....The middle class, caught in the penumbra of the past and the present, the traditional and the modern, was unable to develop an authentic paradigm synthesizing both.

It is clear that almost immediately after independence the direction of the State policy was being dictated by middle class interests. (Perpetuation of English, the education system that favoured the few, etc)

The End of Innocence

The war with China in 1962 was the first serious blow to the easy confidence and sense of well being of the middle class.... Educated Indians had caught a glimpse of reality behind the comfort of illusions, and suddenly the institutions and beliefs of the past seemed inadequate when confronted with the uncertainties of the future. Expectations appeared more vulnerable now...

The first trend of importance was the visible retreat of ideology from public life and the corresponding transparency of the quest for power as an end in itself.

.... (It) had the potential for the most deleterious consequences in the long run, was the un-ceremonial burial for the need for a society to have a commitment to some kind of ideological binding....

The Indian middle class' propensity to abjectly capitulate before a paramount leader (of which the apogee would be reached during the Emergency declared by Mrs Gandhi) was thus directly related to the erosion of an ideological commitment as an effective countervailing force...

(Another) factor to critically influence middle-class attitude and behaviour was the legitimization of corruption as an accepted and even inevitable part of society.

The trends we have discussed - the retreat from idealism, the reduced sensitivity to the poor, and the legitimization of corruption - coincided with a change in the character and structure of the middle class itself...the new claimants were...weaned on the pragmatic realism of Indira.

The selective endorsement of some of Mrs Gandhi's actions even at a time when the JP movement had considerable support was not proof of how discriminating middle class was. It was proof, rather of its ideological rudderlessness, where the only compass working was a perception of its own interests and expectations......The middle class was willing to climb onto the 'moral' platform to the extent that this platform could accommodate its discontents. It was happy, for instance, if its anger against the rise in prices could be given a better projection through a 'moral' critique. But it was unwilling to allow its endorsement of the 'moral' to rein in its own proclivities to the contrary. (Shades of the support for the recent Anna agitation against corruption?!)

The obverse side of this 'authoritarian-anarchic' syndrome is the unqualified adulation of a strong leader at the time of his emergence, and the unconcealed glee at his discomfiture at the time of his downfall. Psychology apart, the essential reason for such wild swings of emotion and allegiance is the absence of an ideological mooring....

Middle class Indians saw Rajiv Gandhi through the prism of their own needs.

The truth is that under the garb of social justice the entire Mandal issue was an intra-middle-class struggle for the perks and perquisites that could be seized from the state.

The Inner Landscape

It is a cliche to recall that Hinduism - the religion as it is lived by its countless followers - has no organizes church, no one God, no paramount religious text, no codified moral laws and no single manual of prescribed ritual. The predominant emphasis is on personal salvation, a journey in which the individual is essentially alone with his karmas and his God.  There is nothing wrong with such an approach in purely spiritual terms......however, in terms of the individuals relation to the society, this very emphasis on the self as the centerpiece of spiritual endeavour tends to stunt the growth of a sense of involvement in and concern for the community as a whole...A pious Hindu will take a dip in the holy waters of the Ganga totally oblivious to the filth and garbage on and around the bathing ghat...Temples in India will have their coffers overflowing with personal donations from the religiously active, but few of the donors would see much spiritual merit in using the same money for alleviating the misery of the thousands of the visibly poor around them.

A second aspect of Hinduism, of great relevance to our analysis, is the absence in it of a strong and unambiguous single ethical centre. There is nothing in Hinduism which categorically equates any action with sin.....It accepts a moral relativism which refuses to be straitjacketed by simplistic notions of right and wrong.

The absence of a strong moral imperative for social altruism had resulted, under the tutelage of unethical leaders and opportunistic politics, in a horribly bloated unconcern for society itself. The end product was the acceptance of a certain kind of lifestyle: insular, aggressive, selfish, obsessed with material gain, and socially callous.

Did the frenzied absorption in worldly pursuits and the overwhelming preoccupation with material acquisitions reduce the role of religion in the middle-class person's life?.... To some extent it did happen: the frequency of and familiarity with religious ritual was reduced, but paradoxically, the need for the religious identity increased. Breakdown of the extended family.... Induced a hankering for a sense of belonging to some transcendent institution which could,.... resurrect a sense of community.

The complexes the average middle-class person has about sex and its role in the society are a result of all these factors: a past which is remembered or invoked to justify sexual license; a more recent heritage (British and Mughal) which considers the sexual urge wrong and associates it with guilt; and the present which is invaded, as it were, by the expression of sex as vulgarity or, as depicted in Western soap operas, fantasy.   

The writing on the Wall

The essential point then is that the current wave of liberalization has deepened the tendency which the wealthy Indian already had to ignore the sufferings of the poor.... Once it becomes legitimate to ignore poverty, the sense of community ceases to have a place in social life.....For the truth is that the social insensitivity of the educated and the privileged Indian is writ large on the face of India, whether the professed goal of the country is socialism or capitalism. The new economic policies have accentuated the insensitivity, and brought into sharp focus the psychological polarization between the worlds inhabited by the rich and the poor.

The seminal question for the middle class is: Can such a polarized world be sustained in perpetuity? Or has the time come for this class, in its own interests, to move beyond the 'margins of elite vision'?

If self-interest, a sentiment with which the middle class is not unfamiliar, can jolt it to pause and reassess its strategies for its own benefit in the long run, then several convincing examples can be given to indicate what is the right track.

The answer appears to be a conscious and quantum increase in voluntary activities outside government, particularly in areas of education, poverty eradication and health. The first reaction of many in the middle class will be to dismiss such an idea as idealistic fantasizing. But the proposal is not as unrealistic as it may sound. The elite in the country have always had considerable influence on middle-class aspirations. Within the elite there are quite a few.........that demonstrate a much-required sense of social purpose.....If such examples of social concern by the corporate elite can be expanded manifold and replicated across the country - and the government through appropriate policy incentives should actively encourage the effort - it will send a powerful message of social activism to the millions of upwardly mobile middle-class Indians who are particularly porous to variations of behaviour in the elite segments of the country.....The project here is the arousal of social concern in the long-term interests of both the elite and the middle class.