South Asia Daily

Revisiting the idea of a more substantive press secretary to India's prime minister

What looks like a subpar film going by its trailer is about to be released. Titled 'The Accidental Prime Minister", it is based on the book of the same name by Dr. Sanjaya Baru, a former media adviser to Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, that was published in 2014. I had done a couple of posts about the book then, one of which bears republication. It deals mainly with the need for an active media adviser to the prime minister in office.

The book was released just before the 2014 parliamentary election and inevitably caused considerable political stench given its insider account from Dr. Singh's administration by a man who had the prime minister's direct confidence. 

It would be extravagant to claim that in the Indian political context, a single book could sway a national election for or against a party or an individual. It would be equally extravagant to claim that single film could do that either. Irrespective of that, I think my main suggestion in the post below is still worth paying some heed to.

April 14, 2014

What exactly does the media adviser to the prime minister of India do? I do not mean a particular individual but any individual who is in that position.

As a professional articulator of the prime minister, one would expect to see the media adviser at least once a year on some television channel explaining important policy issues/decisions/changes. As far as I know, other than informally briefing a bunch of favored journalists or selectively leaking stories, the media advisers have traditionally not done much.

Why can’t the prime minister’s office (PMO) institutionalize a system where the media adviser, who is in fact the press secretary, holds weekly briefings? It would be ideal if there are daily briefings along the lines of the White House press secretary but let’s begin with weekly briefings.

Perhaps the timing of my suggestion is all wrong considering that the Bharatiya Janata Party’s Narendra Modi is being projected as the likely next prime minister. Modi, a reputed control freak who is known to sulk and pout in the face of uncomfortable questions, may choose to do away with the position altogether. Except coming up with a grand unified theory Modi is capable of doing almost everything himself. He needs no advice from anyone, the least of all from a hack. All his advisers reside in his own head wearing the Modi mask. (Now that is one scary image).

The role of the media adviser has come to my mind in light of the current controversy over the tell-all book by Dr. Sanjaya Baru, a former media adviser to Prime Minister Manmohan Singh. His book 'The Accidental Prime Minister: The Making and Unmaking of Manmohan Singh' has been slammed by his successor Pankaj Pachauri as “fiction” that is “baseless and mischievous” as well as “colored views”. In particular, the PMO has been riled by Dr. Baru’s suggestion that important files from the PMO were reviewed by Congress Party president Sonia Gandhi. The controversy surrounds on whether in her capacity as the party president Gandhi systematically undermined Dr. Singh’s authority. In Dr. Baru’s telling, she did. In Pachauri’s rejoinder, that is all fiction. I am hard-pressed to decide whom to believe, although the benefit of the doubt should go to Dr. Baru.

It is not that inconceivable that important files were referred to Gandhi who had chosen to be in control of the political fallout of her party’s coalition government. It may not have been spelled out explicitly but it was clear to all concerned that while Dr. Singh would look at the administrative side of the government, Gandhi and her cohorts would look after the political side. There is nothing controversial in and of itself in this division since Dr. Singh was never particularly inclined toward the politics of his job. What is controversial, however, is the likelihood that Gandhi’s sway over decision-making might have gone to the extent of eroding the PMO’s authority. I do not have particular sympathy for Dr. Singh in this debate because from all appearances he chose to go along with this arrangement from the get-go.

Dr. Singh was 71 when he first became prime minister. He had been a full-grown adult for at least 50 years by that time, not to mention someone who had held decisive government positions. It is also an age by which most people would have long formed their core personality (I would put that age at 17 but that is a different point). He would have known that he was signing up for a role that demanded some measure of subservience to the political will of the Congress president. That he has continued in that position for a decade shows that he made his peace with it. With this as a backdrop, it would be misplacing one’s sympathy for Dr. Singh. On balance, the arrangement suited him as much as it suited Gandhi.

If he felt stifled by the split authority, he should have given Gandhi a clear ultimatum. For all you know, he probably did. However, that is neither here nor there because he chose to stay on in office despite all its pitfalls. In the final analysis, the controversy over the split authority is hardly relevant because both sides were equally complicit in it. Dr. Singh was not a guileless and unsuspecting victim. The fact is that he has gone on to become India’s third longest serving prime minister after Jawaharlal Nehru and Indira Gandhi with some rather significant accomplishments to his name. Be content with those and live a happy retired life.

Pointing out the absurdity of now, yet again

This morning while looking at the sky and finding a crescent moon, a very bright Venus and a fairly prominent Jupiter, it struck me yet again how I was looking at the wondrously dichotomous time lag in real time.

Many of us know that it takes sunlight about 8 minutes to reach Earth and practically the same to the moon. It takes about 6 minutes to reach Venus and a little over 43 minutes to Jupiter. These are all one-way figures.

Now consider this. I was looking at the moon, Venus and Jupiter simultaneously but the reality is so strikingly different. I was seeing Venus as it was over 8 minutes ago if you add the 2.14 minutes it takes for the sunlight reflected by Venus to reach me. I was seeing Jupiter as it was between 35 and 52 minutes ago depending on where it was in the context of the Sun and Earth. In effect, I was looking at sunlight that was at once over eight minutes old, as coming from Venus, and at least one hour and 18 minutes old as coming from Jupiter.  

I am not going to confuse you more by saying that the photons bouncing off these planets may have left the Sun’s core anywhere between 10,000 and 170,000 years, according to NASA. Therefore, when we talk about “now”, what are we really talking about? It is "now" as stitched together by my senses.

I have frequently written about the absurd idea of “now”. Attached to that is my idea of how we all share approximations.  As I pointed out on April 19, 2014, “Inevitably, all such experiences bring me back to the lifelong realization that reality depends entirely on who you are and where you are. I can only approximately guess whether your reality is the same as or even largely similar to mine. It certainly feels so intuitively when it comes to larger realities such as sunrise or sunset within reasonably geographical proximity. We must all be conscious that there is no overarching reality that is common to us all. It is determined by so many other factors. The best we can do is to look for shared approximation. If all this sounds strange, you may blame it on the occasional dizziness that Earth’s rotation of about 1700 km per hour relative to its axis causes in me. We forget that that’s how fast we all move at any given moment. We do not feel it because it is a constant movement. We are forever getting flung but since that is built into us we do not seem to be discomforted by it.”

There is no moral to this brief post other than perhaps pointing out yet again that there is no point.

No headline required

That's all for today. 

"Ooh, I won't be quantized," says Gravity

Gravity is the diva among the fundamental forces of the universe. It refuses, at least so far as we know it, to follow the laws of quantum mechanics as other forces so obediently do. The efforts to quantize gravity, or in simpler terms break gravity down to discrete packets of energy or quanta have failed so far. The quest to find a much hypothesized gravity particle called graviton has not led anywhere yet.

I am engaged in a lot of background reading about gravity these days as I prepare for my first podcast series because it is the theme of the first episode.  The quest for graviton has been terribly elusive and I suspect there are some physicists who would rather that the damn particle did not exist.

In my own rather silly way, I have written quite a bit about gravity and the futile need to quantize it. As part of my background reading, I also read a post I wrote dated March 26, 2014 on this very theme. It reads as follows:

The first point I must bear in mind is the “quantizing gravity” does not mean what I would like it to mean, namely that you atomize gravity, bottle it and spray it around. Not as a cologne or perfume but as actual gravity. The idea is that you can make gravity potable and distribute it in whatever measure you want. Imagine going into any corner of the universe with bottled gravity and turning it upside down by altering its gravitational balance by spraying gravity. I don’t know about you but to me it sounds cool.

Coming back to the serious side of quantum gravity, it is now believed that the discovery of primordial gravitational waves means gravity is indeed quantized. Quantize means gravity now has discrete observable value. I hope I am getting this right. In reading a lot of material about this subject I did not come across anything that answered the elementary question—What is quantized gravity? Sure, there are many complex explanation with scientific language and equations that destroy your confidence in yourself.

From what I understand (and I understand very little) gravity has so far stood apart as a force in the classical sense of the word unlike other forces such as electromagnetism which can be seen from the standpoint of quantum physics. There are two main theories of the 20th century physics—quantum theory  and Albert Einstein’s theory of general relativity. Quantum theory deals with the microscopic parts of nature such as electrons and photons and how they interact with each other. General relativity describes the force of gravity that controls the macro, the vast bodies in the universe such as planets, stars, galaxies and so on and how they interact with each other.

For close to a century physicists have struggled to fuse these two theories that work perfectly well within their respective realms but collide when they come together. The main reason why they collide is because gravity has not been quantized or, in other words, not seen from the standpoint of particles. There has been a longstanding speculation about a particle called graviton that essentially carries the force of gravity. This is a massless particle and hence its range is limitless.

The detection of the primordial gravitational waves indicates gravitons because we have detected those waves some 13.8 billion years after they were generated during the putative Big Bang. It is believed that with this discovery the quest to fuse quantum theory and theory of general relativity has gained tremendous momentum.

I see such high science as the world’s most exclusive club where bouncers are invisible but very much present, checking for a level of intelligence to let you inside where a bizarre world unfolds to the accompaniment of cosmic rhythm and dance. I have been waiting for nearly four decades for entry. So far I have ended up with a kick up my pants. So while I wait, I try and formulate quanta of gravity and bottle them.

The familiarity with which I write about such subjects may create the impression that I possess some truly deep insights into them. That would not be true because I am someone who frequently infers from an extremely limited comprehension of things. I concede that there are moments of unsettling lucid grasp of some of these subjects but those are but moments which by their very definition momentary. Notwithstanding that I will get off the ground with the first podcast about gravity which seems to say in a divaesque fashion, “Ooh, I won’t be quantized.”

Do not be taken in by the deceptions of existence

On Mirza Ghalib's 221st  birth anniversary today I republish a short post I wrote on his 149th death anniversary on February 15, this year.

Here:

In some sense, Mirza Ghalib is to poetry what Albert Einstein is to physics. People have a clear sense of their genius but only rather amorphous comprehension of it. There are, of course, millions in India and around the world who may be able to recite a verse or two or a dozen from Ghalib’s astonishing oeuvre.

Today marks the 149th death anniversary of this truly world class poet. I am not one of those who can effortlessly recall a large body his works but there are some that have stayed with me. The one here remains one of my favorites because it comes across as almost Vedantic.

So here is to Mirza Asadullah Baig Khan aka Ghalib. ( 27 December 1797—15 February 1869).

हस्ती के मत फरेब में आ जाइयो असद

आलम तमाम हल्क़ा-ए-दाम-ए-ख़याल है

(Hasti ke mat fareb mein aa jaiyo Asad

Aalam tamaam halqa-e-daam-e-khayal hai)

ग़ालिब

Do not be taken in by the deceptions (lures) of existence

The universe is but links of a chain of thought

--Ghalib

Some observations on and about Christmas

I have lived my life in enlightened incomprehension. More often than not, I do not understand things and stuff* that constitute existence. The futility of looking for purpose to the universe was obvious to me in my teens. Science generally and physics particularly became the way to make some rudimentary sense out of confounding phenomena that confront us. Religion never entered my life.

It is remarkable that my late mother Snehlata, herself a woman of eclectic and everyday devoutness, never tried to impose her ideas on me. Father Manharray’s early death when I was nine meant that I never knew where he stood on religion except to know that he was a regular reader of the Bhagvad Gita. My two brothers Trilochan and Manoj and one sister Pallavi, all grew up with varying degrees of mild religiosity, none of which has ever been overt, aggressive, intrusive or compulsive. As for me, I have no sense of belief. As I have often said, I have been spared the burden of belief.

I do not make the nonsensical claim that I am not religious but spiritual because I am neither and I find that to be a distinction without a difference. I have never felt the need to resort to divine fantasies beyond what already surrounds us. Things appear to be there and that’s that is how I approach it.

I offer this preamble in light of the just concluded Christmas and the genuine warmth with which non-Christians in India herald it. Facebook timelines have been full of Christmas greetings and intimations of celebrations from those who are not remotely Christian. In fact, a vast majority of them are Hindus and some Muslims. Unlike here in America where some right-wing lunatics speak of an utterly bogus “war on Christmas”, non-Christian Indians in India have no problem saying “Merry Christmas” even to non-Christians. “If it is a celebration of anything, we are in” has been the Indian way for millennia. It is a profound civilizational strength that I genuinely applaud. People wish on Eid with equal enthusiasm.

The reverse is, of course, not true in the sense that in predominantly Christian countries of the West, including in America, there is no naturally pluralistic impulse to even acknowledge, let alone celebrate, non-Christian festivals. There are some token observances of Diwali in the White House and elsewhere but at the level of ordinary people, it simply does not exist. That is more to do with the fact that most people here are unaware of other comparable annual celebrations such as Diwali. My point is that even if they were aware, I seriously doubt if they would celebrate it with a fraction of the enthusiasm with which the people of India celebrate multiplicity of beliefs and festivals. I cannot imagine Christians on Facebook adorning their timelines with Diwali lamps and selfies in front of Rangolis in their own homes. I do not say this as a criticism at all but just a statement of fact. It is what it is.

As someone who has no stake in any belief systems, it is rather easy for me to greet the believers at the time of their particular festivals. At the same time, I am conscious of having encountered devout Christians who have told me half jocularly and half seriously that I will go to hell because I do not accept Jesus Christ as my "lord and savior." I occasionally retort with varied caustic rejoinders such as “I am already in hell where I am told that I am going to hell by a random person” or “As a good Christian yourself, the least you could do is give me the right directions to hell.”

For me the most memorable instance of how screwed up things could be in the world of beliefs is when during one Christmas season some years ago, some Jehovah’s Witnesses showed up at my door. It so happened that we had put of a Christmas tree with all the ornaments and lights in the drawing room. My visitors did not know a brown family—and therefore most likely in need of being rescued and restored—lived in the house. When I opened the door and they saw me, a brown man, their faces ironically lit up like a Christmas tree because they saw a possible convert.

As a rule, they do not enter your home but I insisted that they come inside since it was cold. They did rather gingerly. As soon as they entered, they noticed the Christmas tree. They were palpably confused. A brown man, most likely Indian, with a Christmas tree? What’s going on here? In my defense, I had not put up the tree but my former wife had and she is also not a Christian. She was out with my daughter who also does not believe in anything yet. Jehovah’s Witnesses could not compute what they were witnessing.

Finally, one of them mustered the courage to ask, “Are you a Christian?” To someone like me it was akin to bowling a half volley to Sachin Tendulkar. However, rather than hitting it as one otherwise might, I just guffawed. “I have been spared the burden of belief,” I said. As they processed the reply, one of the three men said, “So you are open to it?”

“You can give it your best shot but in this lifetime I am sticking to what I am. On the other hand, would you like some tea?” I said.

They looked at each other even more confused and one of them politely said, “Thank you but we better be on our way.”

The point of the story is celebrate whatever you feel like without getting defensive or sanctimonious about it. It is after all just celebration with the possibility you might be spared a direct entry to hell. 

*I use “things and stuff” deliberately because that is how I feel. I do know some words though.

 

Religion of Fo

Fo by MC

It was quite by accident that I discovered yesterday how Buddha is written in Chinese and what it is called. On a search for interesting guests for my upcoming podcast, I chanced upon an essay by Donald S. Lopez, Jr., the Arthur E. Link Distinguished University Professor of Buddhist and Tibetan Studies at the University of Michigan. The essay is titled “Voltaire and the Buddha.”

In that essay, Prof. Lopez talks about the Western engagement with the Buddha and how it has evolved over the centuries. He also writes about a 16^th/17^th century Italian Jesuit priest named Matteo Ricci who “first dressed as a Buddhist monk before adopting the guise of a Confucian scholar, writing works in Chinese condemning the “religion of Fo” (fo is the Chinese word for Buddha).”

That reference to Fo being the Chinese for Buddha prompted me to use Google translation tool to see how it is written. The tool showed me this 佛 or Fú as the Chinese word for the Buddha. That in turn prompted me to use a black pastel stick to sketch it. The result is the sketch above.

It so happened I had a guest at home who is very conversant in Chinese. I showed the sketch to her and she instantly said “Fo…Buddha.”

It is vignettes like this that make my life interesting.

Jumping on to the podcast bandwagon

I am currently involved pre-production for a podcast I plan to launch sometime early next month. I am conscious that I am rather late to jump on to the podcast bandwagon but am hoping that the quality and eclectic range that I offer will compensate for the lateness of it.

In preparing for the podcast, whose name I have finalized but am disinclined to reveal yet, I am surfing the Net to look for compelling people to engage in extended conversations. All I can tell you now is that the inaugural podcast deals with something truly universal—Gravitation.

I am told by those who listen to podcasts regularly—I have never listened to one so far and intend to make mine the first one—say that long-form, thoughtful conversations are a thing now. Being a predominantly visual and verbal person, watching or reading come naturally to me. Listening does only if it is music.

There is no presumption that merely because I am starting it someone might choose to listen to it. I have written this blog every day for over a decade but that has done nothing to build up what might qualify as a respectable readership. Those who chance upon it do like its “astonishing range”, a reader’s description, not mine, but that has not built up into anything relevant or remunerative. There is a “Tip jar” which has remained completely empty after all these years.

So there is that to think about as I launch my podcast. Creating and selling are two distinct disciplines. I possess the former but am loath to the latter.

I am set to start with gravitation because gravity is everything. It is a force that transcends and is at the core of the universe. If I can, I would like to start the podcast on January 4, the 376^th birth anniversary of the man who was gravitation—Isaac Newton. At the very least, I will launch the website on that day.

A very brief reminiscence about Charan Singh

From left, Jagdish Rattanani, Mayank Chhaya and India's fifth Prime Minister Charan Singh in Bombay,sometime in 1984. (Photo: Gopal Shetty)

I do not recall a whole lot about my only personal interview with India’s fifth Prime Minister Charan Singh, whose 116^th birth anniversary falls today. By all reckoning, fellow journalist Jagdish Rattanani and I, both working for the Free Press Journal then, met Singh in Bombay in late 1984.

Singh’s tenure was among the shortest lasting between July 28, 1979 and January 14, 1980. Singh’s tenure ended abruptly in January, 1980, after the Congress Party withdrew its support to him just one day before a parliamentary meeting was scheduled to discuss that very issue. By the time we met him he was already 82. He died three years later. However, among my clearest memories was how taut his face looked at that age. I also remember how devoid he was the frills of power even though by that time he had been the country’s prime minister, deputy prime minister and twice chief minister the country’s largest and most politically consequential state of Uttar Pradesh. I might as well mention that he was also the most high-profile face of the country’s farmers, always a powerful political constituency.

Here was a man who was among the earliest movers of land reform which attacked the very heart of the oppressively exploitative system of zamindari or landlordism. He had the bearing of someone who did not need much to get by. I remember him asserting how deeply influenced he was by Gandhi, particularly his ideas of rural economy and its importance for an independent India.

Singh indeed came of age during the tumultuous decades of the British Raj. He was already 45 years old when India gained independence. Perhaps it was that reason he seemed like someone unburdened by having been in powerful political positions for a long time.

It strikes me that sitting with was a 82-year-old politician, who had spent an almost equal amount of time on either side of India’s independence, seriously engaging two journalists in their early 20s. Jagdish was 22 and I 23. There was nothing in his demeanor to suggest that he did not take us seriously. He answered all our questions in detail. I am sure the printed version of that interview can be found but I do not have a clipping.

Matadors

Matadors--MC

My version of a painting by the great Picasso. 

This should do it. It's not as if you pay me to read this blog.