Is Facebook the new Diary?

When I was a kid many moons ago, I had a diary. Every once in a while (I would love to say every day, but...) I would visit the Diary and pen my thoughts. What was wonderful in the day, the friends I made, the goal I scored, all the things that made it a glorious day. I also shared with my Diary the things that made me sad, about someone who said something nasty, the teacher who made me stand in the corner, the fall that resulted in a bruised knee.

My Diary was my friend and privy to my deepest thoughts. And it was a very very personal piece of possession. Not even my closest friend could take a peek at the scrawly writing that filled its pages. Invariably it was tucked away somewhere, hidden from all public view, to be visited in the confines of my own thoughts, away from prying eyes, a confessional as it were, of all things good and bad. Sometimes days went by and the Diary remained tucked between the folds of the mattress or between neatly ironed shirts. And then one day something would happen and the Diary would be taken out and the thoughts poured out.

Yes, my Diary understood me and empathised with me. It was my closest friend, my confidante, the one who would not judge, but just be there alongside whenever I needed him. Or was my Diary a “her”. For sure, there was a deep sense of understanding, an innate quality to gauge what the mood was, never a word in anger, always quiet, dependable, with a shoulder to cry on and delicate fingers to wipe the tears away. I remember the High 5s we exchanged, long before it became a cult action. The four fingers and thumb drawn all the way to the wrist signifying something that made me happy.

Sometimes happiness came in the form of a dish mother had prepared after a long time. Sometimes it was about the ice cream walks. At other times it was the peacock that came visiting and perched on the roof for a while. The sunset painting the sky in all colours of the spectrum. The impossible goal I scored. The adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer, or the loaf of bread that Oliver Twist so desperately wanted. The choice between cakes and bread. Alexander the Great. There were many memories that my Diary and I shared. Those were good days.

The world has become fast paced and extremely small. When I was in hostel, I used to write home in a postcard that would take forever to reach my parents. By the time a reply came, a month would have passed by. I remember writing in tiny characters to cram in as much as I could. I would look forward to a reply from home. Today it takes nanoseconds for that same process. 140 characters rules our world, not pages full of thoughts and musings. In the process we have forgotten grammar, punctuation, spellings. We have become informal in our correspondence and when I look at some official letters written by an executive of today, frankly I do not find it “kewl”.

But I digress.

It has become a smaller world, a world of instant gratification. We are increasingly looking at external factors to allay our fears and share in our joys. While I was happy sharing the taste of the masala dosa with my inanimate Diary, today I would take a picture of the plate full of dosa, then wiped clean of every morsel and share it across the world on my Facebook feed. “Yummy breakfast today” my status update would proudly state. If someone had been harsh on me, I would immediately start typing looking for sympathy from my friends list. Once posted I would wait staring at the screen for the likes and comments and shares. The F5 key would be overexerted and people would pour in with sundry comments, justifications, quotable quotes, or just ask “Wat hppnd?”

Is this a change for the better? I really don’t know. Personally, I would rather keep my thoughts to myself and share my deepest feelings with my Diary. I am happy with the solace that it provides. Maybe I am an introvert and am not a touchy feely sharing kind of person. Maybe others are and unless the world knows about the rash on the dimple that developed after a shot of Tequila in the backyard while chatting up with a friend we met after 32 years, we are not satisfied. It has become a very public world.

Is it a good thing or bad thing? I have no idea. The world evolves and is in a continuous state of change. Maybe my parents thought that writing in a Diary was a waste of time and one should rather talk to the father or the mother about what disturbs them or makes them happy. I was happy with my Diary. Today people are happy with Facebook. And Twitter. And Instagram. And Pinterest. And WhatsApp. And the many other such modern day diaries. We will have to wait and see how the language of English develops over the years.

But one thing is for sure ... Facebook is the modern day version of the age old personal Diary.

Are you a proud Indian ... or Proud to be an Indian?

Yes I am a proud Indian, but I am not sure that I am proud to be an Indian. For those of you who missed it and are re-reading the previous sentence the two words “to be” has been added. Let me see why I am a proud Indian. Well, for a lot of reasons. The geography that comprises the Indian land mass today (and I am talking largely about the sub continent here) has a history and culture that goes back thousands of years. India is proud to have offered to the world Hinduism and Buddhism and Jainism and Sikhism and a lot of other wonderful teachings. India of the past boasts of such stalwarts as Aryabhat, Chanakya, Tansen, Emperor Akbar (he was born an Indian, wasn’t he?), and in more recent years Rabindranath Tagore, Satyajit Ray, Mrinal Sen, Dhyan Chand, Sunil Gavaskar, Sachin Tendulkar, Hargobind Khurana, Amartya Sen and recently we have discovered Kailash Satyarthi, someone no one had heard of till a small group of people halfway across the world put him on a pedestal and conferred the highest civilian award in the world – the Nobel Prize.

Yes I am a proud Indian. Proud because I belong to the community such stalwarts come from. I am proud that they did what they did to make minions like me feel honoured and proud. I am proud that the Passport I carry is in the same colour as theirs. Do disregard the possible fact that all Aryabhat needed to do is sit on the back of a camel and travel down the Silk Route, if he so desired. He did not need no Passport.

By the same token I am a proud human being to belong on the same planet as Alexander the Great, Achilles (of the tendon fame), Atilla the Hun, Confucius the Master, Chingiz Khan, et al. I am proud to have read the stories of the brave men who fought in the trenches in all the Wars and the selfless ladies who tended to the wounded. I am proud to have watched Neil Armstrong walk upon the Moon and relived the stories of Tenzing Norgay and Edmund Hillary standing on the top of the world. Incidentally, Tenzing is Indian, despite Nepal claiming him to be Nepalese and the Tibetans claiming him to be a son of their exalted soil. If you take Tenzing away from India, then we have one less thing to feel proud about, don’t we? Oh yes, Tenzing is as Indian as they come. Like Siddhartha Gautama was Indian, despite there being no real proof whether the Sakya empire lay in Nepal or India ... I doubt if Nepal and India existed as such 2,500 years ago.

Yes, I am proud Indian and a proud Earthian, if there is such a word.

But am I proud TO BE an Indian? Ah, therein lies the problem. But let me first finish with me being a proud Indian first.

According to Merriam Webster, “proud” is an adjective and means “very happy or pleased because of something you have done, something you own ... causing someone to feel very happy and pleased”. According to Oxford Dictionaries, proud is defined as “feeling deep pleasure or satisfaction as a result of one’s own achievements, qualities, or possessions or those of someone with whom one is closely associated” and “causing someone to feel proud”.

Looking at these definitions, I have no reason whatsoever to believe that I had anything to do with anything I profess to feel proud about. Aryabhat and Sachin Tendulkar have every right to feel proud of their achievements. Parents have every right to feel pride in the fact that they sired the likes of Amartya Sen and Kailash Satyarthi. What do I have to feel proud about except that I have appropriated my accident of birth in the same land they had the privilege of being born in?

Merriam-Webster also has another definition – proud of “someone you know or are related to”. Ah so that is why I am proud Indian. I am a proud Indian because I lived in the same land, by virtue of an accident of birth, as many stalwarts who were born here. Of course I have everything to be proud about! No matter that I do not have anything to show for myself, any achievement whatsoever, to be proud about. Let us complete the following sentence ... “I am proud because _______________.” I do not have an answer to that question yet. I am not yet done revelling in the reflected glory of basking in the brilliance of men and women gone by. Ergo, I am a proud Indian since I do not have anything substantial to say, “I am proud to be me”.

Now to the question of whether or not I am proud TO BE an Indian.

Again, we get into slippery territory here. I am proud that Silicon Valley and NASA, Apple and Microsoft, comprise largely of Indians. I am proud that Hotmail (do people even remember that?) was invented by an Indian. Or Java. Or the USB. But again, personally I do not having to be proud about.

When I say PROUD TO BE AN INDIAN, I should have the courage and strength of character to take the good with the bad. I like the diversity that India possesses, and I have to accept the filth on the streets. I like the strides India is making in space exploration, and I dislike the sheer poverty I see everywhere. I like the fact that more and more children (and girls) are going to school, yet I detest the fact that the girl child is aborted with frightening regularity. I like the swankness of the modern airports, yet I turn my eyes away when I see people defecating on railway tracks. I like the way companies from all over the world look to India to solve their backend (the BPO ones I mean, not what you might be thinking) issues, yet I shudder to learn that a majority of the population does not have access to clean drinking water.

Am I proud TO BE an Indian? Not wholeheartedly. When I walk down the streets and see a foreign tourist taking pictures of paan stained walls, I am ashamed to be an Indian. When I see a beggar on the street, I am ashamed to be an Indian. When I see little children carrying loads of bricks in a construction site, I am ashamed to be an Indian. When I learn that my driver gets paid more than a school teacher (who is grooming India’s future), I am ashamed to be an Indian. When I can get away by bribing the cop for jumping the light, I am ashamed to be an Indian. When I see an injured person lying unconscious on the street thanks to an accident and drive on by, I am ashamed to be an Indian.

To be a proud Indian I have to roll up my sleeves and do something about it. Till the time I am able to do that, in whatever humble way possible, I do not give myself the right to proclaim “I am a proud Indian.”

Only when I can do that, and everyone else in the country comes forward and does his or her bit, can one day we hope to collectively make the proclamation, “Proud to be an Indian.”

God bless India. Waiting for the day when God blesses me with the realisation that I am proud of my nation and my nationality.

Be Prepared or Be Scared

One acronym is quite common across the world, particularly in the United States. And that is SHTF. It stands for Shit Hits The Fan or for those a little more subtle, Stuff Hits The Fan. In India the more common term is Up Shit Creek Without a Paddle. People refer to getting into YOYO (You’re On Your Own) situations during TEOTWAWKI (The End Of The World As We Know It) when cities live WROL (Without Rule Of Law).

These are the preppers. The people waiting for Armageddon to strike. People who build nuclear shelters in their basements. Frankly, to many, preppers are crazy people. Nothing is going to happen. People have been predicting apocalypse for centuries and we are still here, aren’t we? Get a life people.

Yeah, sometimes preppers can go a little overboard. What started as a hobby turns into an obsession and instead of going for a holiday, the spare money is used up in stockpiling food and water and other gear. Prepping is a multimillion dollar industry worldwide ... and growing.

Most of these people, these preppers, live from paycheck to paycheck and usually there is a whole lot of month left at the end of the money, but hey, “I’m ready for the time when shit hits the fan. I do not want to become a zombie.” I personally do not agree with them though, at least not to the level they take their predictions to. Yes, they can be a little crazy and they do tend to be a little over the top with their doomsday predictions.

Then there is the other end of the spectrum. A way more crowded place. Those who refuse to take any precautions whatsoever. We will cross that bridge when we come to it. Many of these guys in the United States are Jews and Christians and obviously they have forgotten about the famous Ark that saved the world from extinction. Noah did not build the Ark when he felt the raindrops on his cheek becoming more frequent and closer together. Ok, Noah had his personal Met Department telling him that a storm was coming and he got right on the job and built his Ark and called his favourite couples on board, without too much favour or prejudice.

Yes, we have forgotten about Noah and his Ark.

But then we do have Noah and his team sitting in Government House, don’t we? What is it we elect them for if not to look after us when shit hits the fan. They better look after us when the storm knocks on my door. Ok, let us look at some facts.

Hurricane Katrina was a rude awakening to most US citizens – and Govt – regarding disaster preparedness. When citizens were refuged in the stadium it took the authorities of a first world country (some say the most powerful country in the world) FIVE DAYS to get water to those who were sheltered there. The 1999 Super Cyclone in Odisha killed almost 10,000 people officially. During Cyclone Phailin not a single person lost his or her life because of the precautions taken. Some say Phailin was potentially more devastating than Katrina. Lessons were learnt and action taken.

Odisha has got disaster response down to a fine art. They have the advantage of advance knowledge. They know a storm is building and when it will make landfall and where. They evacuate people, put them in storm shelters, activate all the emergency services, stock up on food and water and medicines and storm it out. Odisha officials are now travelling the world sharing their knowledge on how deal with a potentially catastrophic cyclone. I wonder if they are as prepared if there is a flood further inland in their State due to a storm that is happening in one of their Western neighbours. While eyes are looking out to sea, villages are washed away behind them. I am sure they have a system in place to handle those emergencies too.

But I am here not talking about what the Government can and should do in cases of natural disasters. When something big happens, like it did in Kedarnath or Srinagar or Gangtok or Bhuj or Latur or elsewhere, I am certain the Government will do its best.

I am talking about us, the common citizen, who are called the Mango Men and Women of India. What do we do be able to face, cope, handle, recover from a disaster? And not even a major disaster like the one in Kedarnath, but even one where there is no imminent danger of lives lost. A disaster such as a power outage because some dude sitting somewhere in the lawless boondocks of some country where citizens are non-State, mucks around with the computers and manages to remotely blow out the grid? What if the entire northern belt of the country (or really, even a single State, even a small one like Delhi) suddenly went black and no amount of flicking switches would bring the lights back on? Let us assume this situation lasts about five or six days before the lines get repaired and life starts to limp back to normal. What then? How will this affect our daily lives? Well, let us see. No electricity, right?

• The lifts (or elevators) will stop working.
• The motor (illegal of course) plugged into the municipal pipeline will not whir to life.
• The motor (legal this time) will not have any water in the storage tank below to pump water to the storage tank on the roof.
• When we twist the taps, no water will flow out.
• When we press the button on the cistern lid, it will not flush out our shit.
• Most establishments will run on generator power ... till the diesel/petrol/kerosene ran out.
• The petrol stations will put up OUT OF STOCK signs.
• With petrol stations out of stock, trucks will stop plying the highways and trains will stop in their tracks.
• When trucks stop, there goes our source of daily vegetables, milk, meat, medicines, provisions (and for many people cigarettes and booze).
• Store shelves will become empty of everything in the first few hours.
• People will loot (and probably kill) for drinking water.
• Large scale rioting will ensue and looters will vandalise shops, godowns, offices for anything they can lay their hands on.
• Hospitals will not run since they will not have electricity ... or medicines.
• People on life support systems will have to advance their Day of Judgement.
• Sewage will pile up in the houses and garbage on the streets.
• People dependent on prescription medicines will start to die ... diabetics for instance.
• There will probably not be any decent funeral for the dead due to lack of electricity in the electric crematoria or lack of burning wood due to lack of freight transport.
• The class difference between the beggars pre and post SHTF will start to disappear.
• Sadly, some parents may start jumping out of windows with their babies because they can no longer bear the desperate cries of hunger.

What about the Government, I hear you ask, desperation and anger in your voice. The Government will become largely ineffective if this conditions lasts for more than a week or so, believe me. Because this ubiquitous entity called the Government comprises people too. Each and every moving element that makes the Government go round comprises people with families who are facing the very same issues that you are. The emergency services will start to disappear as things get more and more desperate, because however altruistic we might be, family will still come first. This goes for the Police, the Fire Services, the Hospitals, and that wonderful and eternal excuse - the administration. The only thing that will remain to be dug up and dusted later will be the other omnipresent entity, to be reviled, derided, cursed – THE SYSTEM.

I ask – What about your system? Sure, you want the Government to be prepared to face a catastrophic calamity and come to your rescue. My questions to you are:

• What did YOU do to prepare for such eventualities?
• Where were YOUR systems?
• Are you happy to abdicate your responsibility as a father, mother, brother, sister, child, friend to an unknown and unreliable stranger, a collective of who form THE SYSTEM?

Delhi for instance has 398 policemen per 100,000 persons or about 250 people per policeman. So if you live in an apartment building with a thousand residents, four policemen will be able to:

(a) get everyone out of trouble,

(b) organise transport,

(c) help escort everyone to a safe place, and

(d) once deposited in a shelter, find food and water for everyone.

And while he is doing all this, he will also be called upon to tackle potential law and order issues, fix the transformer that resulted in this chaos in the first place, and take care of his own family.

Medical is yet another nightmare. There are less than TWO hospital beds for every 1,000 citizens of Delhi.

So, you still expect the Government ot come to your aid and rescue? Get real. Wake up and smell the coffee ... it just ain’t gonna happen. YOU HAVE TO PUT SYSTEMS IN PLACE FOR YOURSELF AND TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOU AND YOUR FAMILY.

We all like to quote Mahatma Gandhi – “Be the change you want to see in the world.” Why don’t you start with yourself? Take care of yourself. And if every citizen does that, the Government and the System can be left to do their jobs instead of mothering unprepared multitudes of citizens.

Yup, I think preppers are crazy. But I would rather be a little crazy (ok maybe a more than a little) and prepare for possible emergencies. I would not like to be the one walking the streets with a bowl looking for handouts to feed my hungry child. I will stock up with food, water and other basic necessary gear. Believe me, you do not need to spend a fortune to be prepared. It is more in the mind coupled with a little bit of money.

• A 20kg bag of rice will feed a family of four for six months.
• You can store drinking water for more than a year.
• Reduce your dependence on the light bulb and the electricals.
• Get a hand cranked radio so that you can gather information – the tv is out, remember?
• Multitask stuff you find in your house – turn an empty can of beer into a stove, use dryer lint as tinder, a condom as a fire starter, the Sun as a clock, a couple of pencils and a thick book to make a trap to catch mice which you can eat by the way.

Be Prepared or you will be scared when the stuff hits the fan. Close your eyes and think back to the day a few weeks/months ago when the water did not gush through the taps. How desperate did you become? How long did it take for you to ration the available water in the house? Now think into the future and start stocking up. SHTF is happening, you just have your head buried in the sand. You do not learn to swim when the boat is sinking. YOU DO IT BEFORE YOU EVEN GET ON THE BOAT, in anticipation of such a thing occurring.

Be Prepared or Be Scared! Which one do you choose?

Footprints and Memories

Every time you venture into the wilderness, you scar it, you wound it, you change it from what it was before you went it. If nothing else other than just walking through, you are leaving your bootmarks on the trail. If the undergrowth is heavy, you might even end up making a train where none existed before. As you make your way through the jungle, you might have to hack your way through because of the dense vegetation. During overnight sojourns being ‘closer to Nature’ you will end up urinating and defecating, not only adding to the worms and germs, but possibly introducing new ones into the environment. When you have to make a shelter you are destroying the pristine nature of Nature as it existed before you decided to spend the night. You made a campfire and the scars of that fire will remain long after you are gone.

But Nature is also quite forgiving. Many of the scars you leave behind will heal as Nature heals itself. Nature will reclaim its natural state unless you leave behind irreversible scars. A chopped tree will never grow back. The water you contaminated will remain contaminated for a long time. The small forest fire you started will take years to heal and bring back the lost glory of the very place whose wonder you had gone to savour.

Do not leave your campsite in a state that is worse than what you find it in. In fact, try and ensure that you leave it in a better state, a more natural state than what you found when you got there. Try and reduce the footprints you leave behind to a minimum. That is the ethic that every person venturing into the outdoors should swear by and live by.

You visit a place because of the serenity, tranquility, peace and quiet it gives you. If you find it littered with trash your experienced will be less than satisfactory. Remember this fact for the people who are coming after you. They too would like to spend time at a place devoid of trash.

If you have packed it in, pack it out. Make a garbage bag an essential part of your kit. Incinerating or land filling is not a good idea. Always bring back your trash and dispose it off appropriately. And not just your own trash. As you are walking down the trail, pick up any trash you find so that you leave the place cleaner than the way you found it.

Try and not visit places that have a high volume of ‘tourists’. If you have to go there, go at a time when the volume is low. Ideally find someplace else so that the area has a chance to regrow back to its original self.

With people increasingly venturing into the wilderness, some places have painted markers pointing directions. This kind of defeats the purpose of being in virgin territory. The sheer act of paint marking is vagrancy in the wilderness, however noble the reason.

When you have to cook or boil water ... and you have to ... try and do it on a camp stove. That will be far less harmful to the environment and will leave minimal scars compared to making a wood fire out of debris. If you have to make a debris fire, make it from stuff lying on the ground or from obviously dead branches hanging from trees off the ground. Put out the fire completely and scatter the ashes once you are sure the fire is entirely out.

If you are hiking in a group, do not walk in single file if no trail exists. By walking in single file, one behind the other, you will end up making a trail. Split up and walk sideways if necessary. However, if you are walking on a trail, make sure you continue to walk on that trail, thus avoiding making a new trail where none existed.

When you have to set up camp do so on durable ground. Avoid camping on green grass, dead grass is better. Camp on gravel. Find rocks and boulders around which you can construct your shelter. As it is said, campsites are found, not made. Do not make a new campsite in the wilderness if you can avoid it.

There are areas in the wilderness where you might come across something interesting ... either historical or natural. Do not take anything away. People like mementos and it is tempting to pick up a fossil and dump it in your pack. Just remember the thrill you experienced when you cam across it. Do not deprive the next person of the same enjoyment!

We Indians like to party and where there is a party, we like to sing and dance. Do that back at home. Avoid loud noises and blaring music (this happens so much with us!!!). You came to the outdoors to enjoy its beauty, do not spoil it by bringing in your version of ‘civilisation’ into it. Enjoy the sounds of the outdoors.

Sure, go ahead and take as many photographs as you want to remind you of your journey. Remember to take only photographs out of the wilderness and nothing else. Let the outdoors not even remember that you stepped onto her bosom. Leave her cleaner and more pristine than the way you found her. You will always have the photographs as a reminder of the time when you cohabited with Mother Nature. That is why you went there, and that is the way you should leave. Let the person venturing in after you enjoy the same pleasures that you did. You owe it to them and to Mother Nature.
Remember to leave behind only footprints and to bring back only memories.