From shadows to the stars

Hello folks. It's been far too long since the last Random Observations. So, here we are. RO #1 I hate the people who press the elevator's button even though they can see that it has already been called. Do they think they have some special power that makes the elevator travel quicker? Do they think everyone else is just waiting for them to come and press the button? Are they colour blind? Whatever it may be, this is just irritating. RO #2 In Mumbai, everyone is trying to walk faster than the person in front of them. When I'm walking on the footpath, often a kid or a person who is barely 5 feet tall overtakes me and it leaves me smiling. RO #3 The local trains in Mumbai have a legendary reputation for being packed beyond imagination. In the few weeks I have been here, I have travelled in them quite regularly. It doesn't feel much different than any other local train service in India. My pockets haven't been picked or I haven't been shoved around ye

I have finally started reading Sanjaya Baru's "The Accidental Prime Minister", a memoir of his stint as Prime Minister Manmohan Singh's media advisor. I shall not comment on the book (yet?) because I have not finished reading it. Instead, I would like to point out how Baru got the job. His father was the Finance and Planning Secretary under Manmohan Singh. And, as we go on to see, Baru himself acknowledges that this must've played a role in his appointment as media advisor. Here are some quotes from the book. "Indeed, my father and Dr Singh had several close friends in common, most importantly, K.N. Raj, the economist; Amrik Singh, the educationist; and Mohit Sen, the communist." "[Former PM Narasimha Rao] found it significant that Dr Singh had not opted for a political journalist or a government official as his media adviser but had chosen an economic journalist like myself. ‘Of course, he knows Vithal,’ he added, referring to my fathe

#3 After finishing my MA course at University of Hyderabad, I have now moved to Mumbai. My previous experiences of people saying, "You don't look like a South Indian" have continued here. In the first couple of days of my new job, a girl asked me if I was Pubjabi. My name is Amrit, so not a giant leap of imagination. I proceeded to say that I wasn't. She then asked me where I was from and I replied that I was from Telangana. "But you don't look like you're from South," she said. What's worse, she didn't know what is spoken Telangana. "Tamil?" she asked. When people who don't even know what language is spoken in Telangana tell me that I don't look like I am from Telangana, on what basis are they making this statement? My guess is Bollywood stereotypes. #4 My roommates and I were just getting to know each other. After I had mentioned to them that I was from Hyderabad, they wanted to know if I spoke Hyderabadi Hindi. T

This one is from the archives too. I had written it sometime in March 2016, if I remember correctly, during the Justice for Rohith movement. I did not have the heart to publish it then because I thought it sounded defeatist. Here goes... -- Around two days before Rohith Vemula had committed suicide ( January 17, 2016) , the students protesting against the expulsion of Rohith and four other Dalit PhD scholars by the University of Hyderabad administration had painted a very poignant poster. The poster showed a portly male bare chested body, but had a cow's head. An upavita/janeu or a 'sacred thread' was slung around the shoulder. Beside the image, written in bold were the words, 'Occupy UOH admin'. The image was a metaphor for the Brahminical and Hindutva driven administration. Just a few days ago ( March 2016) , in the embattled shopcom area, the epicenter of the students' movement for justice, I observed the poster still lying. Two months had passed

Disclaimer: This post might not make complete sense to everyone. (If any of you ghosts have questions, please do post them in the comments section) -- Sometime in 2012 He walked slowly towards the church. The irony of him - an atheist - seeking peace and solitude at a place of worship was not lost on him. His eyes absorbed the architecture - the three steeples, the cross and the stained glass windows. “If there’s a god, surely there’s going to be a power cut soon as I set foot into this building,” he amused himself as he neared the archway. November 28, 2015 He was less sure of the way now. How long had it been since he was last here? Maybe a couple of years, if not more. Was this the right way? The landscape seemed to have changed so much! Ah, but there it is! The three steeples, the cross and the stained glass windows. Among the time swept sand dune that is the city, this oasis (or mirage?) remains a constant. 2012 He had never been in a church before. What is the etiq