I am in a superposition state of |being jobless> + |having a job>

Currently, I am in a superposition of the two basis states: |being jobless> and |with a job>.

Allow me to explain.

The first basis state should be self-explanatory to many of you. As many of you know, for the 1.5 years since December 2011, I had been going jobless. Even as of today, I still haven’t actually joined any job. So, there.

As to the second basis state: Well, I have been offered a job as a Professor in the Mechanical Engineering Department, at the Yadavrao Tasgaonkar Institute of Engineering and Technology, Karjat (YTIET, for short) [^]. So, I do have a job. Ergo, the existence of the second basis state.

But, why the superposition, you ask? Why not just the second state?

The thing is: Though I have the offer for this next job in hand, I haven’t actually joined it. The next semester starts in July, and that’s the time when I will get measured i.e. my state will actually collapse to that of |having a job> i.e. I will actually join the job and be placed on the official employee registers, be eligible for receiving a salary, etc.

Until that time, I will continue to remain in the state of this superposition of |being jobless> plus |having a job>.

Now, a bit about my new job.

YTIET is a relatively recent, self-financed engineering college, affiliated to the University of Mumbai. The institute offers UG programs in six branches, and PG (ME) programs in electronics and mechanical engineering (as of today, only in the machine design specialization). I will be teaching both the PG and UG students. The institute is located about 10 km from Karjat.

Karjat is a small town about 120 km away from Pune by road. Karjat is actually the last halt for the Mumbai commuter trains (informally called “local”s) plying on the SE railways side (i.e. on the Mumbai–Pune side). It is situated at the base of the famous Khandala “ghaat” (i.e. mountain-pass). Though the town is small, all trains (including the superfast ones) must take a brief halt at Karjat, because it’s here that the train engine is augmented with additional engines, to be able to climb the steep ghat. (I don’t know the reason why the trains going down the ghat also take a brief halt there!)

The Pune-Karjat daily commute for a job would not be totally impossible (a few km to the Pune train station from home + about 2.15 hours by train + 10 km further by bus), but it would be difficult enough for someone like me to avoid it. So, I plan to move to Karjat (or Panvel or so).

* * * * *

I had been jobless for 1.5 years because the University of Pune interprets the UGC/AICTE rules in a way that disallows the BE+MTech Metallurgy engineers from becoming professors of Mechanical engineering, even if they have a subsequent PhD in Mechanical Engineering.  [The University of Pune's way of interpreting the UGC/AICTE rules also is the one that does not bar the BE+ME Electronics engineers from becoming Professors (and PhD guides) in the Computer Science and Engineering branch. [Yes, you got it right---the Dean of University of Pune himself has this background.]]

I got the job in the University of Mumbai because, in that university, the same rules are interpreted in a way that does not disallow metallurgical engineers from becoming professors of mechanical engineering. Not only are there well-known precedents (e.g. BTech, MTech and PhD all in Materials + Metallurgy from IIT Bombay), the University of Mumbai had also already gone ahead and come out with a detailed document that had clearly mentioned such guidelines. (In fact, as far as I know, none of the neighbouring universities—be it Mumbai, or Shivaji, or Solapur, or Marathwada—has this metallurgy-vs-mechanical branch jumping problem; only the University of Pune does.)

Another reason I went jobless for such a long time is that software companies in Pune either don’t do any real core work here, all of which is done at the parent companies’ offices abroad, or, if at all some such work is sent offshore here, then the local Indian idiots managers, in an attempt to save their, say, “basis,” keep all “senior” people like me, out, no matter how competent. In fact, it’s already more than a decade since the time that Infosys managers deliberately began recruiting only First Class graduates and keeping Distinction Class graduates out, in order to improve their “retention ratio.” (In this sense, the Pune s/w managers are not very different from the retired colonels of the Indian army of the sort I had discussed in one of my past posts. The morality of all such Indians is not different from that of those American JPBTIs who stole my writings at LinkedIn.)

Anyway, back to YTIET and all. … Once my mother passed away, it was no longer necessary for me to be near her in Pune, and so, the location now no longer was a constraint for me. So, I had began applying to the engineering colleges affiliated to the University of Mumbai, sometime in late March. I received quite a fair response from the very first college where I had applied. I in fact had an interview as early as in the first week of April, but they didn’t immediately release an appointment letter because theirs is a very new college—their very first UG batch has just finished only the first year and they of course don’t have any PG program—and so, they were not sure if it would be an optimal match for either of us. So, they kept the matter in abeyance for some more time. In the meanwhile, YTIET was one of the next group of colleges where I applied, and things went through fairly rapidly and smoothly here. Karjat also would be convenient for me from the viewpoint of keeping in touch with my friends and relatives from Pune.

* * * * *   * * * * *    * * * * * 


A Song I Like:

[Not sure if I have run this one before or not. Even if yes, I would like to rerun it. And, as a very rare exception, I also highly recommend the movie i.e. the visual part of this song. BTW, the location for this song is Khandaalaa ghaat at whose base is Karjat. Thus, all the sites in this song are barely within 10--25 kms from Karjat. Of course, the fact that it all looks so stunning only in the monsoons, is another story.]
(Hindi) “chhoTi si kahaani se, baarishon ke paani se…”
Singer: Aashaa Bhosale
Music: R. D. Burman
Lyrics: Gulzaar
[E&OE]

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The QC pulls ahead of the CC

The first peer-reviewed paper to demonstrate that a quantum computer (QC) outperforms a conventional computer (CC), is here (PDF) [^]. [HT to Henning Dekant [^]].

The New York Times’ story is here [^].

Oh, BTW, this is one of those rare occasions when a peer-reviewed PDF of a scientific paper is being made available from a newspaper’s commercial servers—not from a server at some government-run Important National Lab, or a taxpayer-funded Wonderful State University, or for that matter, even arXiv! An interesting bit by itself, don’t you think?

(And, BBTW, I am old enough that as soon as I read this news, I instinctively slipped into wondering as to the time when the Russians might come forward with some “evidence” to show that they had accomplished the same thing some a few years earlier. … I guess I should go and enquire with the folks at the JNU New Delhi, ISI Kolkata, or IIT Bombay—they should know.)

Anyway, coming back to this exciting bit of news itself: at least at the time of going to wordpress, far too many American blogs on quantum computing still were completely silent. Especially those being maintained by the American academics. Several days over, and still not even a cursory acknowledgment!

Yet, this bit of news is not a hype; the advancement is for real.  Check out the following links (many of which were mentioned in Henning’s post, anyway): New Scientist [^], MIT’s Technology Review [^], IEEE [^], and even Nature [^].

So, an exciting news item, this one surely is. But what is comprehensively missing is one thing: that American (Hindi word) “taDkaa.”

The MIT Technology Review story, for instance, has this as the subtitle of its online story:

“Tests suggest that a CIA-backed quantum computing technology can be very powerful for some kinds of problems.”

Very careful.

“A” quantum computing technology—not the first to get a definite practical success.  “CIA-backed”—which means, this hint: the CIA has the money to pour into some potentially wasteful projects, and also have the means to choke out any adverse news reports if they fail, unlike the real innovative, open, democratic institutions like certain US universities. And, only “some” kind of problems would become solvable—it’s certain that with more research at MIT and Berkeley, the hardware is bound to get intelligent, but don’t expect it to be omniscient, that’s all. (Parenthetically: the company is Canadian.)

Sooooooo careful.

So, all in all, what I am missing out on is that American “taDkaa.” Even if Lockheed Martin, an American firm, already has gone ahead with the plans to use it [^], and an American by name Bo Ewald has become involved with the DWave [^]. [Full disclosure: I worked with e-Stamp roughly around the same time that Bo Ewald did. [Hi Bo!]]

The major reason I want to see some real American “masaalaa” and “taDkaa” on and around this topic, and if not that, then at least some ordinary hype on it, is: so that people get mysterious about this whole thing. Remember, the field of quantum computing carries two highfalutin words: “quantum” and “computing.” Even if the second word has lost a bit of a shine (Steve Jobs is no longer around, Chairman Bill is no longer the Chairman, and even the DC threatens Google only once in a while—there is no real DoJ action), it still carries a lot of aura. And, till date, they have managed to keep the first word, neatly wrapped up in a thick, impenetrable kind of an aura of a mystery.

When you combine the two together, there should be a multiplicative/exponential kind of a synergy. “Quantum Computing,” you know, should sound big. BIG. VERY BIG.

It, then, would be such a fun to step in on to the scene, and begin explaining how quantum computing is such a simple thing, after all! … How it is not all that big a mystery; how it really works. Explaining quantum computing on the basis of [clears the throat] my novel approach, would be fun, provided there is a preceding American “taDkaa” to it. In sufficient quantities. Together with “masaalaa.” To make it all mysterious in the first place.

There is no fun carrying just a pin around, no matter how sharp it may be. It’s no fun if you do have the pin, but there is no balloon in the first place—or, as in this case, there is that balloon, but still, no one is willing to inflate it.

* * *

Congratulations to the engineers and physicists at the D-Wave, anyway!

 

[E&OE]

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Keeping someone competent out of a job doesn’t kill him

I was (somewhat surprisingly) shortlisted for the post of Professor in Mechanical Engineering at the D. Y. Patil College of Engineering, Akurdi, Pune. It belongs to the group that was founded by Padmashree Dr. D. Y. Patil. The interview was held on March 13, 2013. It was conducted by (Retd.) Col. S. K. Joshi (also: here?) and Prof. Dr. Satishchandra Joshi, and other professors. (However, this was not a UGC-panel interview, just an internal (or what is known as a “college management” sort of an) interview.)

The atmosphere at the interview ranged from the quizzical (“after software development, you did PhD?” and “your PhD was in mechanical engineering but for a topic on metallurgy, right?”), to the professional (“what courses can you teach here?” and “would you rather do research or teaching?”), to the skeptical (“you have worked mostly alone and haven’t had any administration experience”), to the belittling (“so [as an application engineer] you sold instruments [smile]“), to the antagonistic (“why are you here? why didn’t Symbiosis or COEP hire you?”).

In any case, the proceedings—i.e. the people—summarily failed to even look at any of my achievements, including those stated in my PhD thesis (“[blankout]“).

I wouldn’t comment either on the non-verbal part of the interview, or on the part that used words but in a shameless, power-lusting sort of a way (i.e., deliberately breaking and keeping on repeating a part of a question, deliberately prolonging completing that question just at the moment that the interviewee gets some hang of it and is about to answer that question, all of this done so that the interviewee is deliberately pushed off his balance; perhaps they teach/inculcate/encourage such things in certain organizations as a part of showing off one’s prestige/power/control).

Needless to add, I was not selected for the job.

I neither regret nor go back on my judgement that the Indira Congress needs to be contained in their socialistic spending spree and especially that Rahul Gandhi would make for a bad PM. And, talking about opportunities for me in private engineering colleges in/near Pune, might as well immediately add here that Vidya Pratishthan‘s College of Engineering‘s principal, Prof. Dr. Deosarkar, didn’t know that his college had in January 2013 shortlisted me for an Assistant Professor’s position (for which a qualification of BE + promise to register for ME is enough), and didn’t reply my email and telephonic enquiries about it. I now also formally reserve my judgement as to whether Sharad Pawar would make for a good PM, but still remain inclined to believe that he wouldn’t make for a bad PM and that he should make for a better PM than PC. The question as to whether IMO he would/could make for a good PM, however, now remains open. (Similarly, I reserve my judgement as to whether Indira Congress’ Prithviraj Chavan is a good CM or not, but am inclined to believe that he actually is a bad CM.)

In any case, I do believe that Sharad Pawar, Padmashree Dr. D. Y. Patil, not to mention the BITS Pilani and Berkeley-educated Prithviraj Chavan, Satej (i.e. Bunty) Patil, Sanjay Patil (PDF), et al., need to be told that I have been jobless for 14+ months by now. No matter how important (VVVVVVIP [did I miss any 'V' here?]) they may be, they need to be told this fact simply in view of my research achievements and the fact that all of us (including Kharate and Ghatol and others noted in my series of posts on the metallurgy-mechanical “branch-jumping” issue [^]) are … … … … Indians. [Did you hear a sound of the drums? Was it a band of the Indian army?]

Also, yesterday itself, I had updated my resume (PDF). The main change is the addition of a section on the chronological sequence in which my career has happened to have got developed. (I only today got to know about the decision at the DY Patil COE—I called them.)

If anyone from the interviewers at the DY Patil COE Akurdi (and also those from VPCOE Baramati, MIT Pune, Symbiosis Pune, JSPM Pune, iGATE Bay Area/Bombay/Pune etc.) happen to be reading this post: One reason why I have had to take so many jumps is precisely due to people like you—and your employers/controllers: one prefers to join a job that is actually available, even if it isn’t an ideal one, than keep on waiting for a job that one would like to have and/or wait indefinitely for the jobs that one has been directly or indirectly been promised with. One does that out of the requirements not just of survival but also because one knows that in India, a “gap” in the career is very difficult impossible to explain. That alone explains so many of those jumps. It does. And, also the fact that the Indian interviewers can be shameless/immoral enough to keep on highlighting the fact of someone’s changing jobs/jumping branches even while the entire interview is for a contract post of 11 months’ duration (or is a job which already has probation period of 6 months or more).

We will keep you on a temporary position for 11 months; we ourselves will give you a break for 1 month every year; but you still have to explain why you have had breaks in your career. There is no contradiction in that line of accusation. Retired Colonels of the Indian Army, and BTechs from IIT Madras/PhDs from IIT Bombay, don’t see one, anyway. And, they have full support of the Indian politicians/powers that be.

If you are a politician from India (or one of their minions, or one of their co-operating bureaucrats/”businessmen”), go back and read the last paragraph once again.

No. Even deliberately keeping someone competent out of a job isn’t the same as killing him.

* * * * *  * * * * *  * * * * *

The matter doesn’t quite end here; there was an advertisement for the post of Professor in Mechanical Engineering at COEP, and I have applied there. Once again.

* * * * *  * * * * *  * * * * *  

The usual “A Song I Like” section of will no longer be maintained as a regular feature; its absence would no longer be noted separately.

[E&OE]

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My Life Minus That Unique Love and Tenderness

My mother passed away in Pune early on the morning of Thursday, February 14th, 2013, at around 4 AM. Following the traditional Hindu calender, the (Sanskrit) “tithee” at that time still was (Sanskrit) “chaturthee,” and accordingly, the last rites were performed till yesterday. She had a relatively fuller life, living up to 77 years of age.

While she had had both arthritis and diabetes for quite some time—for more than two decades—recently, about 1.5 years ago, she had also suffered from a heart attack. At that time, she was stabilized with drugs, but in view of her overall health, even angioplasty was ruled out. Her last illness also mainly involved the cardiac condition. Even if she had to endure chronic pain because of her arthritis for a long, long time, and even if she experienced difficulty breathing over the last couple of days, judging from the final expressions she left on her face, her final moments obviously were very peaceful, even serene.

As it so happens in the Indian society, one is so immediately surrounded by so many relatives, friends and well-wishers that one doesn’t have the time (or even the mental energy) to think of anything except for the (Sanskrit) “kriyaa-karma/antya-sanskaar” and answering all their queries. Suddenly, there are people who visit you only infrequently, and the home no longer seems the familiar place you are used to. In a way, this circumstance could perhaps be all for good, because if one can’t have that privacy to think about the person, there also isn’t any possibility for one to get into that seemingly endless loop of experiencing the loss. In a certain sense, the fact of her death has still not become fully real to me. Not except for a few moments, over all these days.

In my first draft, I had written this much. However, on the second thoughts, I think a word is perhaps due here about what sort of a person she was.

I think that in many, many ways, she was a typical housewife of a typical Marathi middle-class educated family of her times.

She had formal education only up to the Matriculation, but she had a very alert, active kind of a mind. She also was very intelligent. I have heard her classmates (and other people who knew her from her childhood) talking about her always standing first in the school without putting in any serious effort at all. (About two weeks for all the subjects combined for the annual examination, according to what she once told me—and then regretted telling me that fact, because she knew it would only give me the excuse to skip my studies. … Though she was raised in a small town (a taluka place), one of the classmates who would stand second to her during their school-time, later on became a successful post-graduate surgeon; others were engineers, accountants, lawyers, etc.) Going purely by one’s own judgement, all stories about her intelligence were completely believable… So, she was intelligent.

And, she was fairly well-read, though almost all her reading was limited to Marathi.

She also never failed on her (Sanskrit) “kartavya” in respect of any one from our extended family, friends, acquaintences—and the way she did it always was with some feelings, not dryly. She just had this knack to know just what to do, when, and how.

She cheerfully managed our several transfers (my 10th standard school was my 6th school), the two homes we had to maintain for a long time (as an irrigation engineer building dams, my father had to stay in remote jungle/rural areas where they had no high-schools, and so, our family had to stay in a separate home in a small town nearby), and many, many other responsibilities, rather well. Recently a friend of mine happened to go for a picnic/sight-seeing to a place where my father had helped build a dam. By the time my father was posted there, we (my siblings and me) were already in college, and so, mother could stay with father. It was already more than three decades since my mother had last been to that place. Yet, a person who knew my parents at that time, immediately had spontaneous words of praise for both of them. …

I guess different people would remember different things about her, but if you ask me, I would pick out these things: her active mind, her intelligence, her ability to deliver on whatever role that was expected of her, her ability to maintain and nurture relations, her ability to maintain composure across a spectrum of circumstances and in fact to find joy in little things, her ability to endure those pains of arthritis with a certain calmness and acceptance, sometimes even serenity. I would single out these things.

Yet, on the day she passed away, the one thing—perhaps the only thing about her—to strike me was this: the thought that the one person I knew who wouldn’t have ever wasted a single moment on uttering a single unnecessary word, the only person who would have instead silently but swiftly sprung into action, any time, ever, to defend me, to defend my thoughts, my decisions, is gone, forever. That was the thought. And, I think what I felt at that moment was: being vulnerable. It has never been an experience very common to me. But it was there. I felt vulnerable not because of a discovery of a shortcoming, or of a lack of strength, but because of a discovery of a loss of something far greater—that unique love and tenderness that only a mother can give her child; the absence, now and for my entire future life, of that one irreplaceable person.

* * *

Since then, I think I have already learnt to deal with it, and the process will continue. It’s been a loss, and it’s been, personally, an event of a big change. I think I will go about it at my own pace.

* * * * *   * * * * *    * * * * *  

I have also not been on the ‘net a lot over the past couple of weeks (since I wrote my last post). I could barely find the time to check emails or so, that’s all.

However, I think I have begun being more comfortable being away from the Internet.

In any case, I don’t think that currently I have much to blog about.

So, expect me to be away from blogging and commenting a lot in the near future, say for a couple of weeks or so.

Even later on, I think I won’t have many new ideas to write about, here. In fact, it’s high time for me to move the numerous comments I have already made at various fora/blogs (e.g. numerous threads in various LinkedIn groups as also several personal blogs maintained by others), and convert them into my personal blog posts. I think once I resume blogging more regularly, I am more likely to do that, than writing something new here.

* * * * *   * * * * *    * * * * *

A Couple of Songs My Mother Liked:

Let me end this post by including a couple of songs my mother liked, though not me! …

When it came to songs, movies, actors and things like that, our respective tastes differed so much that they invariably seemed absolutely ridiculous to the other. In fact, it was always something of a surprise to find something—anything—at all in common! I mean, she was someone who actually liked Meena Kumari, Raj Kapoor, and Rajendra Kumar—and many, many others like them! And, she never ever grasped in her entire life-time how any one could possibly appreciate RD Burman’s rendition of “mehboobaa” for a song (not a nursery rhyme). Given our respective tastes, I was always stupefied whenever I discovered that there could at all be something common to us, esp. concerning Hindi movies, songs, actors, etc. For instance, the fact that we both liked Balraj Sahni. These were exceptions, never a rule.

… But, anyway, coming back to the songs she liked: Here are a couple of songs which she liked a lot. One is a Hindi song, and the other, a Marathi one. Among the two, I found the Hindi song to be absolutely average. And, purely by happen-stance, I have never actually heard the Marathi song in original (not even once in all these 50 years of my life! (Yes, there apparently are songs like that, too!)). The only times I have heard this Marathi song were through her humming at home. It was her daily practice to lit up the (Marathi) “niraanjan” and offer (Marathi) “udabatti” to God at evening time [(Marathi) "teenhi saanj"]. I am not quite sure about the later years, but at least when I was a school-going kid, she would be found almost absent-mindedly humming this particular Marathi song, almost daily. Only the (Hindi) “mukhaDaa” of it, not the (Hindi) “antaraa.”

… Anyway, here are the songs without any further ado.

(Hindi) “mausam hai aashiqaanaa”Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Lyrics: Not sure which one: Kamal Amrohi, Kaifi Azmi, Majrooh Sultanpuri, though for this song, Kaifi Azmi would be more surprising a lyricist than the other two.
Music: Not sure which one: Ghulam Mohammed/Naushad/Ibrahim. To me, they all sound the same!
[I think for this Hindi song, what she really liked was the voice (the rendering), the basic tune itself, and also the visual aspects of the song in the movie, in that order. I don't think she was very particular about the lyrics part of it. And, she wasn't particular about the idea of treating a song as a separate object of evaluation apart from its visual/cinema context. She wasn't much of a critic, and I thank God for it!]

(Marathi) “haat joDate, padar pasarate”
Singer: Meena Mangeshkar (?)
Lyrics: ?
Music: Aanandghan (?)
[Not at all sure about the credits. Just googled them up. (In fact, until now, I didn't even know if this was just a traditional song (of devotion) passed on via oral traditions at home/school, or it was at all recorded. During her lifetime, I never knew that a record of this song at all existed---somehow, it didn't even occur to me to check it out on the Google.)]

Ok. So, bye for some time now. (I am also going to postpone for quite some time the task of editing/revising my previous post (the one related to Modi and all).)

[E&OE]

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My loud thinking concerning the recent questions about Narendra Modi

Recently, I felt like writing a response to the following questions [^] as soon as I read them:

“What is Narendra Modi? A visionary and a statesman? Or a demagogue and master orator who can tailor a speech to his audience?

And there is another question too. One that I believe is even more important. What do Modi’s supporters really want? Development or Hindutva?”

The answer I wrote on the fly [and as usual, at a great length] appears below, but, first, an important note: I am just copy-pasting my answer. It certainly needs to be edited, but in the meanwhile, there was a kind of medical emergency at home and so, I will do the editing/expansion later. [My mother had to be hospitalized soon later, on Feb 11th; she still is in hospital---and, BTW, this is a reference which I am going to remove in the subsequent editing.]

As far as editing goes, in particular: the form of the answer needs to be changed from a personal reply to an independent blog-post in general; certain points need to be put in a slightly better context; and, as usual, some words need some qualifications or need to be changed; etc. Also check out on the “Applying philosophy…” blog my subsequent elaborations: [^] and [^].

Also, to keep the perspective/context (which often is lost days, weeks, months or, more understandably, years later, and which often is deliberately dropped as a part of the “follow up”), make sure to also check out the recent flurry of media articles/opinion pieces (some of which appeared just days after the above-referred discussion in the blogosphere), e.g.: Chetan Bhagat and Swapan Dasgupta’s pieces in the last Sunday’s Times of India, Tavleen Singh’s piece in the last Sunday’s Indian Express, and most recently, the blog-post by Pritish Nandy at Times of India.

[Links to all to be added.]

Anyway, here is the answer I had written on the fly:

* * *

He is not a statesman, that’s for sure.

We have had mixed economy for such a long time that it would be next to impossible for any one of his or younger generation to rise to that level. The cultural trends have been mostly taking a downturn for such a long time that, these days, all politicians are all driven by the compulsions of democracy—the actual, *systemic*, compulsions imposed by the rule of the mob, within a constitutional framework that contains too many contradictions and so succeeds in giving only a semblance of cohesion or integration to the polity. For instance, the constitution prohibits changing parties, thereby inducing the herd effect to a greater extent. Gone are the days of being true to “conscience.” In fact, conscience is a word which one would run into at least once a week some three decades ago, but doesn’t find mentioned anywhere for months together, these days.

Still, about the cultural downturns, I said “mostly.” That’s observation-based, not an expression of a general pessimism.

The only noticeable cultural *up*swings have been those in the wake of the *political* liberalization in the early 90s (which itself was driven by the *economic* compulsions and the better, liberalizing, terms set by the somewhat better, i.e. the Western, elements in the World Bank, when we had gone bankrupt due to our socialistic political pursuits). Though liberalization was a political process, in reducing shackles and exposing India to the (whatever remaining) better elements in the West, it also allowed betterment in *culture*.

However, these accompanying *cultural* upswings have been countered by the other cultural *down*swings, in particular, those of the religious kind.

BTW, I don’t think we have had a *cultural* downswing of the communist/socialist kind since the 1970s. All the recent downswings in India have been of the religious kind. Sonia Gandhi’s NAC-inspired socialistic programs, or, to a lesser extent, Vajpayee’s populist programs, have been downswings on the economic side, not cultural. For that matter, even when the left was a part of the power at the Center in UPA1, they were completely ineffective in promoting the leftist trend in the *culture*. Bollywood continued with the pelvic thrusts, and even artsy “socially conscious” cinema chose themes like Peepli Live, Shwaas and Deool, rather than a glorification of egalitarianism, of redistributing poverty.

So, the main thing to worry in today’s India, as far as *cultural* degradation is concerned, is: religion, not socialism. Notice the lack of any enthusiastic coverage in the urban, well-educated, middle classes about the movie: Deool. Its theme contains too many undercurrents uncomfortable to the religious mystics of the modern Indian variety.

Incidentally, despite India being a mystic country for such a long time, the execution model they (the religionists) have tried to follow in recent times is not indigeneous in origin; it’s a recent import from America. The recent Indian model is based on the upswing of religion in America, which itself is a rather recent phenomenon (gaining ground after 1970s, and consolidating during the Reagen years).

Thus, Jansangh, for instance, would never have put up a rippling-muscles, six-pack abs kind of a portrayal of Shri Ram on those wide-view flex boards in the cities; it would take the BJP to do that. The traditional Indian portrayal, in fine arts, sculputre and literature, of this God, even if he was a “kshatriya”-born, is that of a middle-aged deity with a somewhat roundish body and carrying a vague, almost nurturing kind of a smile, with the deity situated in a rich, opulent, but peaceful settings, together with family—not that of an angry, young warrior, taking aim with a tautly stretched bow-and-arrow, with his clothes flying in the strong winds as he stands alone on a treeless strech of brownish land, with anger uncontrollably shooting out of eyes. (With all that evident anger, it would be difficult to hold aim to the target, one wonders.) The traditional Indian portrayal of this deity—qua deity—has been different, the history of there actually having been a major war notwithstanding.

The elder Indian even today sometimes does an involuntary double-take at the spectacle of “teertha” (holy water) being sprayed onto those wildly dancing, hysteric masses from a high platform as in the rock concerts, using water-pumps and hose-pipes to spray the “teertha”. To the earlier generation of the religious Indian, “teertha” is always taken in a small quantity using the right hand. A small bamboo “pichkaari” is acceptable at the time of Holi, but it’s not a religious event. Using a *hose-pipe* and a *pump*, for *spraying* “teerth” is too much.

Before these trends spread elsewhere in India, they had begun in those massive religious gatherings in Gujarat, during the times of Modi’s rise to, and assumption of, the political power.

One reason the elderly Indian winces at such sights is: an Indian, true to his color, would in principle be averse to any grand-scale show on the material side. Especially so, when it comes to the matters related to religion. The Indian tendency, particular in the spiritual matters, is to turn the gaze inwards, not outwards. The Indian is not averse to the bodily power; but in his view, either the bodily power is to be subjugated to the spiritual wisdom, which is all outwordly, or the entire matter is superfluous to him simply because it pertains to this world. There is a reason why the “gopur”s of our temples may be grand on both artistic and spatial scales, but the “garbha-griha” is spatially so small as to hardly admit only a few people at a time. When it comes to temples, the idea of a vast space or a large auditorium accomodating a large gathering, with a high pulpit for the priest, is specific to the Abrahamic religions, not to the Indian ones. Clearly, “event management” of *this* kind is a recent import. (We have always had massive religious gatherings, e.g. Kumbh Mela or Wari, but these have been more noticeable for their messyness, randomness, than for masses being coralled together and aroused to a common passion by an organized priesthood. The Indian religious philosophy is far too outworldly to ever care for any organization or purpose in this world, especially that on a large scale. Our temples may have large spaces surrounding the main building (“aawaar”), but these spaces noticeably lack the pulpits to address the assemby—in fact, there never is an assembly, only a random and overcrowded collection of people.)

We have only recently imported the more effective, large-scale, techniques of management of mobs on the basis of religion as a uniting force.

Modi’s management style seems to reflect his times; it seems to be a mix of an upbringing in the traditional organization mold of the old RSS (itself based on an awkward mixture of the European fascists of the early 20th century for the most part and some Scouts-like activities thrown in for good measure), *and* these modern techniques of religion-based political management imported from America.

In short, there have been cultural betterment in certain areas. For example, today, we can openly advocate capitalism in India, without any fear of ridicule, which was not possible as late as when I was in my 20s, i.e. in 1980s.

However, overall, the net cultural change has been to go on to the down side.

Since, as you observed, culture (in the broad sense of the term) does drive politics, the culture of politics also has been going down. (I never thought it stinks to the extent you and many others do.) It’s in the recent atmosphere that it’s difficult to produce statesmen. Try to think of a successor to Jamshedji Tata, in today’s world. Or even to JRD, for that matter. Politics is hardly different. You don’t expect a Sarvapalli Radhakrishnan or even a Shankar Dayal Sharma, in today’s world; the alternative to Pratibha Patil was Bhairo Singh Shekhawat. Even if IMO politics does not stink to the extent you seem to think it does, it is very obvious that we can no longer expect statesmen to rise in today’s India.

So, the smart spin of Modi’s internationally outsourced image consultants aside, he simply can’t be a statesman. The very suggestion is ludicrous, and a direct product of his spin-doctors. (He is not alone in employing/benefitting from spin-doctors; his anticipated 2014 opponent, Rahul Gandhi, supplies an easy example.)

Is Modi a visionary? Ok. Can you use that word to describe a fascist? To clarify this issue, let’s take a more extreme example of a fascist: Can you use that word for Mussolini? If yes, then, sure, Modi is a visionary. He has the “vision” of unleashing the Hindu religious kind of irrationality, on India (and if possible, elsewhere, too), and to preside over the accompanying political power in an executive capacity. That’s his “vision.” (He might succeed in “achieving” it—simply because Rahul Gandhi is what he is.)

Is Modi a demogogue? In view of his political success in Gujarat, he must be. But then, of course, there are so many demogogues, even within his own party. Rajnath Singh, for instance. An array of them could be witnessed during the recent FDI issue. That hardly makes him special.

Is he a master orator? I don’t think so. I haven’t seen the video you refer to, but from whatever his earlier speeches I have seen, they seem to indicate skills lesser than those of a master orator. A master orator is different. Balasaheb Thakarey? Yes. Narendra Modi? Not really. Of course, he does have that ability to deliver effective speeches, often with a lot of punches. But then all politicians routinely do that. When you say a master orator, the person has to go beyond that level. I would certainly put Lalu Prasad Yadav ahead of Narendra Modi in that department. This is not humour; I mean it. When it comes to superior oratorial skills, just the way Vajpayee is (rather was) a master orator, so is Yadav.

Rather than pieces of superior oratory, Modi’s speeches seem to be like *events* that are quietly and masterfully coordinated in the background. The actual speech seems like just the tip of the icebert. The silent coordination is palpable. Right from creating the atmosphere for an upcoming speech, including coordination in the media (not just locally, not just in the neighbourhood or with the people in the city, but specifically within media), to the necessary followup capitalization on what(ever) he said.

The only way to explain the extraordinary effectiveness of this not-so-extraordinary personality is to make reference to the quiet work done for him by those “swayamsevaks.” Take away the aura they impart him, and then, judging him for himself, Modi comes across a far more ordinary personality—not just in speeches but also in every respect. There are times when I wonder if he could be described as a pigmy. He is said to divide all people into two camps, and evoke extreme passions of either admiration or loathing in them. The description is accurate except for the starting word: you have to replace “he” the person by “he” the image—nay, the rather seamless sort of an enormous collage—built up by all those collectivist “swayamsevaks.”

As to demoguery, I think more than being just a demogogue, he is a shrewd “organization man,” capable of slowly but surely advancing over his competition, especially internally. Here, I think a definite credit is certainly due to him. Not just in a value-neutral sense. I think he has put in very honest and very hard efforts in rising through his organization. To a certain extent, esp. for politicians, personal honesty *is* compatible with a contradictory or irrational political agenda.

He is not a typical BJP leader. Nope. He is more pure-minded on their agenda, more hard-working on that agenda, than any others from his party. Compare him with your ordinary, compromising sort of a guy like, say, Ram Naik, Nitin Gadkari, or even Rajnath Singh. When it comes to the BJP agenda, Modi would be more ruthless compared to any other BJP leader. Not because he lacks emotions, or controls them better, or manages to suppress them. Not even because he wants to be ruthless with people—in fact, quite the opposite is very likely, from whatever I can gather from his coverage on TV in general (never saw him in person at a close distance). It is easily possible that he is responsive and sensitive.

Still, he will end up being more ruthless simply because he would be morally more unshakeably convinced about the moral worth of the BJP agenda.

I think that it is possible to imagine Modi’s developing inner doubts privately, when it comes to his assessments of his own abilities, his own capacity to lead and to rule. He certainly does seem to be both sensitive and intelligent enough to be able to develop such doubts, at least some times. But what he seems entirely incapable of doing is: ever challenging the moral worth (to him: the moral *superiority*, nay, *infallibility*) of the *moral* agenda of his organization, of his party. It’s this greater—moral—conviction which would make him more ruthless. And it is this emphasis on the moral agenda rather than a political agenda which permits him enough flexibility to be a chamelion on many political issues or to even strike some compromises—the reason why so many Muslims do in fact support him. They too are religious, like him, but too short range, unlike him.

It’s Modi’s moral convictions that set him apart from the others in his party. It’s not any particularly superior personal set of qualities, except for being a better organization-man among them. Honest hard work, a lot of them do. Shrewd, a lot of them are. May be, he is slightly more shrewd, that’s all—though I honestly doubt that. From all that you can gather about him, he is very shrewd, but he could even be more sincere than shrewd. So, the real difference setting him apart from his colleagues is his willingness to go all the way down along the path of their shared morality. And the real reason why he can make that contradictory morality work, is: using his superior skills as the organization-man. The burden of the contradictions is calculated to fall on those outside the organization, the enemy camp (whoever they may be), and, since a contradiction nevertheless has a way to also run in the opposite direction, i.e. internally, the burden then has to fall on to those who have lesser skills to make the organization work for them. (One reason for this last also is the lesser strength of the same morals. There does seem to be a feedback loop here.) And so, when it comes to his individual assessment, the actual reason can only be ascribed to the depth to which he carries his (wrong) moral convictions.

Finally, coming to his supporters. In wondering about what *Modi*’s supporters want, if you are at all going to set up an *alternative,* esp. an alternative between Hindutva and “development” (whatever that means)—or, for that matter, between Hindutva and anything else—then, I would say, you are politically so naive, so very naive, that I have a suggestion for you: consider abstaining from voting regardless of where you are (i.e. even in places/elections where the BJP is weak/absent), for, when it comes to politics, you obviously cannot be trusted to choose wisely. :-) [This last was just a joke, BTW.]

Too long, in fact longer than usual. Hope you tolerate. (It was just a writing on the fly.) Guess one of these days I should write a slightly better organized piece on Modi, at my own blog. I wanted to do one well before the heat of the campaign begins, and right now might as well be a good time to do that. So, unlike my comments on spirituality and all, this time round, this comment might actually move very quickly to my blog. Though, guess I will let it begin its course here.

[E&OE]

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