Da Vinci Code and the Talibans

When I saw the headlines, "De Vinci code banned" in an Indian newspaper, it depressed me.

 

Even though there were some protests when "Sins" was released in India, in the end, the film did manage to be released, without people burning down the theatres or cars.

 

While the headline was alarming, reading the news about Da Vinci Code was slightly better. It explained that the film is not yet banned, that a group of persons will watch the film and decide. I hope that they will decide to show it. We do not need the Indian Christians to learn from Islamists and Hindu radicals about getting offended about everything and start asking for bans.

I believe that we need some sane persons in India. Very badly. Unfortunately, it seems we are running out of them.

Every group of religious louts is just waiting to pounce on the slightest provocation. They come out on the streets, burn a few cars, pelt stones and threaten burning down the books or the theatres or whatever.

Now Aamir Khan is warned, how dare he speak about Narmada Bachao or against Narendra Modi? They will not let his Fanaa to be released in Gujarat, they say. Show him the Hindu might?

The Sikhs have done it too. Jo Bole so Nihaal is a caricature, they say. The child in Kuch Kuch Hota Hai is a caricature. How dare they? Let's teach them a lesson they shout.

The Muslims, Sikhs, Hindus, Christians - everyone is ready with the petrol cans. They define themselves as saviours of their religions. Dissent is equal to blasphemy they feel, and because the God can not defend itself, they must do it.

 

Armed with hockey sticks or worse, they come out with their torches. And the sovereign Government representing the people bows its head and presents its butt so that it can be kicked by any thug, always ready for banning any thing so that "it does not disturb public order" (except when you dare to protest against the Government, then the police is ready for the lathi-charge).

So we are going for a Taliban rule in India and only insecure louts will decide what we can read, see or think? I am not saying that we have to be agree with everyone but you can disagree on something and still be civil? Amartaya Sen talks about the ancient traditions of dissent and criticism inherent in Hinduism and in Indian culture in his book "The Argumentative Indian". Yet, those traditions are being corrupted everyday and we are prisoners of fire-wielding hardliners, who have decided that we Indians are not mature enough, we need censorship, and that they will decide for us.

If a country (Italy) that hosts the Vatican itself, can show the film, De Vinci code, it seems strange that India has to worry about the feelings of few sensitive Christians who do not like it and decide to get offended by it!

 

I get it that India is a mix of religions and beliefs and hurting the sentiments of any one group can easily lead to violence, mayhem and deaths, so the Government has to be cautious. However, I wish that there were religious leaders promoting tolerance and "let it be" kind of attitude, instead of fanning protests and hate marches.

 

Partly, it may be due to these TV channels, which keep on looking for persons with more hardline and crude beliefs, so that they can show them and increase their TRPs. It is a system which gives more visibility to those with the more extremist views.

 

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Governments - Heaviest Element Known to Science

Got this from a colleague in an email (I don't know who originally wrote it but it is wonderful):

A major research institution has recently announced the discovery of the heaviest element yet known to science. The new element has been named "Governmentium". Governmentium has one neutron, 12 assistant neutrons, 75 deputy neutrons, and 224 assistant deputy neutrons, giving it an atomic mass of 312.

These 312 particles are held together by forces called morons, which are surrounded by vast quantities of particles called peons. Since Governmentium has no electrons, it is inert. However, it can be detected, because it impedes every reaction with which it comes into contact. A minute amount of Governmentium causes one reaction to take over four days to complete, when it would normally take less than a second.

Governmentium has a normal half-life of 4 years; it does not decay, but instead undergoes a reorganization in which a portion of the assistant neutrons and deputy neutrons exchange places. In fact, Governmentium's mass will actually increase over time, since each reorganization will cause more morons to become neutrons, forming isodopes. This characteristic of moron promotion leads some scientists to believe that Governmentium is formed whenever morons reach a certain quantity in concentration.

This hypothetical quantity is referred to as "Critical Morass." When catalysed with money, Governmentium becomes Administratium - an element which radiates just as much energy as the Governmentium since it has half as many peons but twice as many morons.

 

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The Governmentium story reminds me of an Asterix and Obelix comic book about guy running between different Government departments in Rome, each of which wants a stamp or a seal or photocopy or three signed copies. However, to be honest, this disease is not limited to ancient Rome, it afflicts most of our countries.

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Maoist Extremism in Nepal

Yes, I know it is long time since I wrote anything on this blog. Over past few weeks, I have been thinking about the situation in Nepal. Finally, it seems the King of Nepal has decided to give in to the people's movement asking for an end to the monarchy and now, hopefully the peace may return to this beautiful land.

At the same time, I am thinking about Nepalese Maoists and if they pose a threat to the country.

I have always felt that dialogue and democracy are the best way to deal with extremists - by extremists, I mean, those who believe in extreme changes, and not necessarily violent. In that sense, I don't agree with state repression, banning, jails and fighting to overcome or to contain those we consider "extreme". I believe that if extremists can be made to participate in the democratic dialogue and if they find public support, to become a part of the government, then with a little time, their extremism will be tempered and they will automatically need to become less extreme to fit in with the system.

The increasing forces of globalisation, means that the increasing inter-links between people and countries, should be a safeguard since extremist governments, even if elected, can not break those links and live in isolation.

Another aspect of globalisation is the increasing presence of media, so that when "news worthy events" happens like dead bodies floating in Victoria falls in Rwanda, the world will see it. Thus, violent aberrations, sooner or later must go away other wise you become an international pariah.

Unfortunately, it seems that both these aspects of globalisation can be easily manipulated. When economic interests are there, other countries can become tolerant of dictators and murderers, and close one or both eyes. And, the international media is fickle, it comes to catch the goriest pictures but since here the supply is greater than demand, so it soon loses interest and leaves to catch other gorier pastures.

So I think that Maoists in Nepal should get a chance to participate in the elections and if they win the elections, they can get a go at the system. Yet, I am also worried if the democracy rules are considered valid for everyone? What if once in the Government, they decide that autocracy is the best way to govern the country.

So what do we do with people or groups, who do not believe in democracy and liberty, but they play along only to win elections and get into power and then start their dictatorship and repression?

 

And if through democracy, we end up with a Pol Pot and millions of dead, whose fault was it?

 

Or with Islamists and Talibans? 

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Dismantling of the UK Health Services

I was in London last week.

I went to see my friend Pam at her home. She has worked as a children's doctor and before her retirement, she was heading the Community-Based Rehabilitation (CBR) course at the London School of Child Health. She told me that she had been in the hospital for back pain and her experience in the hospital. She saw the doctors only on the day of her admission. After that for the next two and half weeks, she never saw her house officer.

The British NHS, national health services had such a great reputation with people coming from all over the world to benefit from the British standard of medical care. So, I was wondering what has happened to it?

In the night, I was watching the the news on BBC in my hotel room. It mentioned a guy called Mr. Gonsalez, who had killed many persons and the court has sentenced him to a mandatory prison for life. There was also an interview with the grandmother of Mr. Gonsalez, who explained that if her grandson was guilty, the state was equally guilty. She had been complaining about the deterioration in the psychological condition of her grandson for months without any response from social services or the psychiatric services. In one of the letters, she had even written, "Would you do something only when he kills someone?".

In the morning, flying back to Bologna, I saw the headlines in the newspaper, a private hospital in London is "forced to cut 1000 jobs because of lack of funds".

I was wondering that according to the magazines like The Economist, UK has the most booming economy in Europe, so how can this happen there? While rest of Europe is fighting recession, only UK seems to be going strong, then why do they need to cut their health service so drastically? The quality of the health services, though I am sure that they are not so bad, but these stories sound more like government hospital services in India.

I am also afraid for our health care services in Italy. With all these magic words of greater efficiency, reducing wastage of resources, more autonomy and privatization in the policy makers, the future does not seem very bright for the right to health. Actually, the quality of health services in Italy seems to be really good, perhaps one of the best in the world, but I think that it does not bring them the kind of money they want.

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I have a new Hindi-English-Italian photo-blog, Chayachitrakar. There are mornings, when I don't feel like writing much. It would be simpler to stick in a nice picture and it will be done. That is the logic behind it. I have just one camera, a digital kodak, and I don't know about apertures and time of exposure, etc. I can't even take very sophisticated pictures and I don't like special effects, most of the time. But I think that my pictures have good human angle. May be that is not very modest, but I like the pictures I take!

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Loving and Fearing the Uniforms

I can't resist taking pictures of people in uniforms - especially policemen and police-women. It is a kind of obsession. If I am visiting a place and I see police personnel, I always try to take their pictures. Some times, I am a little afraid that they will get annoyed but that hasn't happened so far.

 

The image below has persons from the Police-band in Delhi. I love the beautiful colours of their head-dresses - they make me think of peacocks.  

It is a kind of love-fear relationship or rather fear-fascination relationship. Instinctively, I am afraid of people in police dress, if I can avoid, I never speak to them. In my mind they are representing cruel and brute force, which I suspect is because of my growing up in India, where the police is often cruel and corrupt. It is for this reason perhaps, that I like taking pictures of them with small children, so that the antagonism between this mental image and their actual gentleness creates a contrast in the picture.

In 1960 my father, belonging to the Socialist party, was jailed because of some anti-government protest. From his notes, I know that I and my younger sister, together with my mother, we had gone to see him. I was six years old at that time, yet I can't remember any thing about that visit, nothing absolutely, except for a faint memory of standing at the bus stop near the jail. I think that normally, a visit to a jail would be a very strong memory for a child. 

 

I remember the bus-stop near the Tihar jail in West Delhi but of the actual visit inside the jail, I have a big hole in my memory. It must have been very traumatic for me. Perhaps, that visit is also behind my fear-fascination of uniforms?

 

I have known some policemen and even a police commissioner, and they are perfectly fine persons. This is not about them as persons but perhaps it is about what they represent?

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Christmas in Piazza Navona, Rome

I was in Rome yesterday. By the time, I finished my work, it was already dark and I still had about an hour for my train. I decided to use that hour by going to Piazza Navona, the Navona square.

Rome is full of beautiful squares but this is perhaps the most beautiful of them all. Shaped like a big boat (Navona literally means a big boat), the square has beautiful fountains, and during the day, artists, musicians and tourists throng it, so it is difficult to walk around.

Last night was different, because of the Christmas shops. There were rows of cheerful, brightly lit, colourful shops.

I was so busy going around and looking at the shops that I almost missed my train. While rushing back towards the metro station, I saw the Bartolucci workshop in a small street near Piazza Navona, with the craftsman working on wooden handicrafts while the wooden Pinocchios with their long noses kept him company.

 

The owner-craftsman, he seemed as if he had just stepped out of a fable, into the dark, narrow, cobbled street.

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European Language Bias of the Nobel Prize

When I first heard that Pinter has won the 2005 nobel prize for litterature, I thought they were talking about Luigi Pintor, an Italian writer who had died earlier this year. Pintor, a rebel, was ousted from the Italian communist party and established his own newspaper and magazine, il Manifesto. He wrote simple, small books, that are a real delight to read with their profound insight into human psyche.

I vaguely knew about Harold Pinter, the British playwright and the Nobel prize winner. I had not seen or read any of his plays, but I had seen him on the "HardTalk" on the BBC in December 2004, when he had said that both Bush and Blair should be tried for their war crimes. This interview and the episode of HardTalk can still be seen through internet.

His acceptance speech for the Nobel prize is equally hard hitting. He feels that while there has been a lot of debate and discussions on effects of Soviet empire and communist rule, similar debate has not touched on "American activities of eliminating people-friendly democracies by declaring them communists and killing innocents till such countries have despots friendly towards multinationals and American products and at that point, they are called democracies". He gave some examples of Latin America, before talking about Iraq. This speech can also be read on internet.

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I am sure that Pinter is a wonderful writer and does deserve his nobel prize. Yet, I also feel that Nobel prize committee is biased towards writings in European languages. Otherwise, I can't imagine, how writers of the stature of Mahashweti Devi can be ignored? There have been some wonderful and very prolific writers in India, who would have been considered Nobel prize worthy, had they written in an European language.

Yet the painful truth is that the writers in the so called "local" or "indigenous" languages spoken by millions of persons are easily ignored, till someone can translate them in some more "mainstream" European languages and then they can be "discovered". Till then they do not exist.

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Roman Adventures

When I came to Rome on Friday, I was telling myself, this time I must go out and be a tourist, and not remain closed in the meetings. But when I arrived it was raining. Our

meeting was in a place run by nuns close to the circular road, la circomvallazione, that runs all around the city, not too far away from the Vatican city.

As often happens in the old cities, streets may be narrow with high walls of houses huddling together, yet as you enter the gates of an old house, suddenly you find yourself in big open spaces, sometimes with beautiful gardens. I had that experience a couple of times in old Delhi. This place, where we were staying, was like that. Really huge with different buildings, gardens and a church hidden inside the high walls.

 

I love this picture (left), it seems to sum up the narrow streets of Rome with its cross and the Vespa parked underneath!

Yesterday (Saturday morning), I woke up early, with the idea of going out and doing some sight seeing. Terme of Caracalla, I had already decided that this time I wanted to see to the old spring bath of Caracalla built in second century DC where more than 1300 persons could take bath and relax. I had a hurried breakfast, making plans about how to go there but when I came out, it was raining heavily. Unwilling to give up my plans, I opened my umbrella and set out resolutely. It was cold and there was a lot of strong wind. In a few minutes, in spite of the umbrella, I was drenched and shivering. So I had to beat a hasty retreat, literally with my tail between the legs. Terme di Caracalla must wait for another visit to the eternal city.

In the end I did manage to see some spring bath ruins, from the outside, not of Terme di Caracalla but of Terme di Declezio, right outside the Termini railway station, before I caught the train back to Bologna today. When they were built, these Declezio spring baths were even bigger than those of Caracalla. Till some months ago, they were occupied by poor emigrants, who would squat around, cook food, talk with friends. Now the whole place has been fenced and closed and to enter, you must pay a ticket. I didn't have enough time to go in for a proper visit.

The whole street in front of the Terme was jam-packed with vehicles and pavements were full of people from some East European country, probably some part of ex-Yugoslavia. The vans had brought the east European beer, vodka, dried fish and other delicacies and had set up makeshift shops on the pavement. All the homesick east European emigrants had gathered around to chat, to smoke, to drink their home beer, to talk in their own language and perhaps, for a few hours imagine that they were back in their homes. I am using the word "east European" to cover my own ignorance. They could have been Serbian or Polish or Czech or Romanian. It was strange walking in their middle and listening to their Slavic language.

A little further, a woman vendor from Peru was complaining in Spanish to some Latin American tourists about people selling counterfeit cheap coke and other drinks. A little ahead, a Chinese woman had set up her noodles shop and Chinese couples were standing around to buy it, while some were sitting along the side of the pavement, to eat them with evident gusto. They chattered in Chinese.

Small pleasures for the often denigrated and despised emigrants running the shops for their country-people! Each in the safety and security of their own language, food and company.

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Winter Snow in Bologna

It is winter finally. And we have a thick blanket of snow in Bologna.

 

I had been hearing that it was going to be the worst winter in the last twenty years but the temperatures in Bologna had continued to be good. It felt more like spring than winter. Then, ten days ago, finally the winter came. Still I was going out with a light jacket.

Acquaintances from our apartment block would slowly shake their heads and complain, “It is so cold”. Actually, I didn’t think so, but I played along and said, “It is time now for winter. Almost the end of November. It won’t be right if it was not cold!”

Talking about the temperatures and the seasons with casual acquaintances is like a game. In the summer it goes like “It is so hot you know!”

 

“This heat is unbearable.”

 

“I wish this heat would end. I am tired of it.”

 

And then it becomes, “It is so cold you know!”

“This cold is so tiring and depressing.” “I am waiting for the spring.”

 

Like steps of Waltz - predictable like the steps of the dance. You say this, then I say this and then you say that and then we will shake our heads, smile at each other and go away happy, that we played our parts well.

***

But now real winter has come. Before going to Geneva, I looked at the expected temperatures in Switzerland on the internet. Minus sixteen! I almost felt sick.

 

So off went the light jacket and out came the thick winter overcoat. It was a wise decision as it turned out. It was very cold and it snowed. And it was so windy, almost like London, with cold gale brushing over the bumpy waters of the lake Leman, pushing hard at you.

“Katarina!”, I told myself. I was making joke of John Grisham when he was in Bologna for receiving a honorary degree and had been startled by a loud thunderstorm, and had explained his fear by talking about Katarina cyclone in the USA.

 

But every time, there was some wind in Geneva, it was the first thing that came to my mind, Katarina. Wonder what do all the Katarinas of the world think about the idea of giving names of girls to typhoons. Must have been some unhappily married man or a tormented father, who had come up with this idea?

The journey back from Geneva was very eventful. My flight was through Munich, and it was buried under the snow - it looked like a big white wedding cake with lovely icing on the top. Actually more like a big thick white blanket that the town had pulled up to save itself from cold. The flight to Bologna started late and on the seat next to me, there was a grumpy man, who made faces when he had to get up to let me pass.

 
“What injustice, that I have to share this row of seats with others” he seemed to say. Said something in German, that I didn’t understand and perhaps it was better that way. When the flight started, he bullied the air-hostess to go to an empty row in business class. Good riddance, I thought.

I had my camera ready but the Alps were lost under the clouds. Bologna too was lost under the clouds and after going around in circles for some time, the pilot announced that Bologna airport was closed due to heavy snow and we were going to Pisa. The grumpy old man started fighting with the air-hostess. “We should go to Rimini, that is closer”, he insisted. This time speaking in Italian.

The air-hostess smiled at him and told him nicely to sit down and put on the seat belt. “Ignorant bitch” he hissed, loudly enough. To punish him probably, the pilot started to rock the little aircraft, up and down it went till the old man calmed down.

God, I am going to miss Marco’s wedding, was my first thought. Probably they will cancel the marriage, I consoled myself.

But we didn’t crash. And it was raining in Pisa. It took us three hours of bus drive to reach Bologna, through the snow and all. And, all the time, I was thinking, we were in Pisa, they could have organised a small trip for us to go around the city. A picture in front of the leaning tower! That would have been lovely.

 

However, I am not complaining, the snow in Bologna is lovely.

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All Creatures Great and Small

I know I have this thing about a role and a place in the world for all creatures of the God including bacteria, viruses and ants. I am kind of obsessed with this idea and I don't like the indiscriminate use of ""antiseptic" products for killing bacteria promoted by the industry. But today, I read something that did warm my heart. And it proves my theory that God or nature or whatever you believe in, has created all creatures for a purpose, even if we can't understand it.

 

BTW, the title "All Creatures Great and Small" is from a much loved James Herriot book, about a country vet and his animal patients.

A scientist from Nottingham, Mr Pritchard believes that hookworms can prevent asthma and allergies and links the recent rise in number of persons with asthma and allergy problems in the developed world to the use of clean water and mass de-worming treatments.

According to him, hookworms in the human intestine, they affect the body's immunity mechanisms and thus reduce the chances of having asthma and allergies. He has a research project in which they will give people a limited dose of hookworm larvae and measure their immunity and the effect of this treatment on the asthma episodes.

However, in the poor communities in developing countries, hookworms are also responsible for worsening of anaemia and malnutrition, so even if he proves his point, how are we actually going to apply this kind of treatment?

 

I think that if his hunch is correct and the hookworm does affect body's immune system and allergies, then next step would be to understand how do they have this impact, so that we can search for new treatments for allergies.

 

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This idea of a purpose for all big and small creatures, also reminds me of a scene from a book called "She Was Called Two Hearts" about a woman going through Australian outdoors with a group of Aborigine people. In this scene she tells about feeling dirty because of not taking baths and constant travelling in the dust. And then they encounter a swarm of small insects that surrounds them. She panics but then sees that the Aborigine people are facing the flies calmly, letting them do what they wish. The flies enter her ears, flutter inside and clean it and then come out and fly away.

So next time you are ready to kill a cockroach or a mosquito, think first, what its role can it have in the nature? However, to be honest, mosquitoes may be useful somewhere, but while waiting for someone to discover for what, I prefer to use a repellent cream and may be even kill some of them, if I can.

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