Terror Attack 26-11-2008- It does not always happen to others

On that trecherous Wednesday 26th. Nov. '08, my wife Varsha had gone out with her friend Pallavi, They managed to escape the attack by just a whisker. Others were not that lucky. If religion can turn humans into demons, what good is such a religion. I'd prefer to be an atheist any time.
Here is an email I received from Pallavi regarding their plight on that fateful night. It is very succinct.

"Dearest Everyone,
This is not an easy e-mail for me to write and I won't be doing separate ones to anyone so please don't be upset… The past three days have been a nightmare that I am still trying to come to terms with… Went with some friends to Indus for our usual evening out around 7:30 on Wednesday evening… There was a very noisy birthday party going on at the next table.. my friends and I decided to leave.. Spur of the moment to change the dinner menu from Zaffran (too far!!) to Café Leopold (an old favourite) since it was just around the corner… and the decision to have a quick bite and run.. Bad decision.. really really bad decision.. We walked it to Leo's and were asked to wait for a minute before we were seated.. got the last vacant table available (which ultimately turned out to be the one the terrorists must have sat at)!! But fortunately (as it turned out) very close to the side exit / entrance! Were barely seated and looking at the menu deciding what to order when there was a CRAAACK sound – almost like a bulb bursting! Before we could say "What's that", there was the unmistakable rat-a-tat-a-rat-a-tat sound of machine gun firing! Instant pandemonium in the restaurant.. we were stunned but managed to gather our wits enough to run out.. Varsha even had the presence of mind to grab our handbags lying on an adjacent chair! Ran blindly into the lane desperately looking for a place to hide.. continuous firing from the terrorists inside Leo's… ducked into the first entrance we saw and it was an office… The owner was nice enough to take us in but insisted upon mobiles being kept on silent mode… and lights switched off… the noise from the street was deafening! Sat inside for a good 45 minutes… clutching hands… and praying… waiting for quiet to return… Owner's family started calling him home so he asked us to leave… Before that happened… a knock at the door… we all froze and when two guys with their clothes in shreds.. and covered in bloodstains came in… they were looking for water and a change of clothes… weary from ferrying people to hospitals… Worrying telephone calls started… convinced us that the office owner wasn't quite completely on the right side of the law either… kept on praying… Crept out of the office and towards the building entrance… only to stop short at the sight of a smart yuppie-type lying dead in a huge pool of blood right at the entrance… shot in the head and shoulder… poor guy must have been running to find shelter… started moving at the others urging to "hurry, hurry"… and running down the road that the terrorists had run down just minutes earlier on their sprint towards the Taj… Were slightly alarmed when two young boys almost grabbed us saying it wasn't SAFE to be out… They insisted they had a room where we would be safe and virtually had to drag us up the stairs… we were too zapped to actually realize what was going on… especially after seeing so many dead and injured in the restaurant… God sends us angels when we need them most… I know this is true... the boys mustn't have been a day over 18, if even that much… They came a short while later with bottles of chilled mineral water… followed that with Coke and Limca a short while later… and then came and apologized because they couldn't offer us anything to eat! Unimaginable and unbelievable degrees of niceness from people who don't have much… The room was tiny… with a ridiculously minuscule window… not particularly clean… the less said about the bathroom the better… but to be safe and away from the terrorists was an absolutely "top of the world" feeling! We were right behind the Taj… heard every single gunshot… hand grenade… bomb blast… saw and smelt the smoke from the dome burning… held each other's hands through the long… very long night… prayed… hoped… answered frantic calls from loved and dear ones… including a number of you all who are reading this… hoped that the mobile batteries would hold out… We realized how long seconds can be… how endless the time for the minute hand on the clock to travel an infinitesimal space further along it's way actually is… never looked at my watch as often as I did that night… That's when we sat there and counted our blessings… a clean house… a safe neighbourhood… close friends… loving families… concerned and caring colleagues… a variety of food… nice clean clothes… alert and hardworking staff…enough opportunities for fun and games…helpful neighbours… and above all, a protective and loving God who kept us safe and secure… We are truly more blessed than we know… and it's time to understand and acknowledge this and the people who make our lives richer, better and happier by being a part of them!! Stepped out of the building to get our ride home… only to the staccato sound of even more gunshots from the Taj… but were determined to get home to our loved ones… An amazing feeling of overwhelming relief, joy and a sense of unreality… that we were FINALLY safe…that we could actually stop looking over our shoulders suspiciously… Came home to a rapturous welcome from Daddy and my staff and friends… It was the best feeling in the world!! I know… that so many have died… been grievously injured… emotionally scarred by the violence and aggression… traumatized by the senseless and unnecessary terror… deeply hurt by the insensitive remarks of our politicians… and I realize that I have been incredibly lucky… and still… The nights go by with sleep being elusive… I am startled by sudden loud sounds… don't think I will ever be able to handle hearing loud firecrackers… without being frightened… keep questioning why I was saved… Maybe God thinks I am a good person… and there are responsibilities I have to fulfil… I feel lost and lonely… even though everyone has been so supportive and understanding… It is a private horror that only I can deal with… and reconcile to… Am being as strong as I can… long chats with friends help… going out and walking at Marine Drive does too… have stopped watching the news on tv… vivid images make it "come alive" for me again… Wonder of what has died inside me will ever be the same again… and of it doesn't… Well, that's life… and will chalk it up to experience… and pray that none of us ever have to deal with it again… Thank you for always caring for me… loving me… understanding me… supporting me… and "being there" for me when I have most needed it! You are all very precious to me and I don't even want to imagine what life would be like without you…"
Much Love,
Pallu"

All Vaccums Eventually Fill Up- Part II

Aslam came to me on Monday, with the news that he had been summoned to his son's school. The principal had told him that the school had received a request from a school in Belgaum, to send them his son's Leaving Certificate. Aslam refused to allow them to do so, and got from them the name of the school in Belgaum.
It became clear that the eloped couple had settled in Belgaum. I called a couple of my contacts with political connections, requesting them to help him get back his son. The next day Aslam went to Belgaum, and as expected his son was found there. The principal of the school refused to hand over the boy to him, as the boy's name had been changed, Aslam had taken with him the necessary record to prove that the boy was really his son. Luckily for him the boy too validated his claim.
The boy had a harrowing tale to tell, of the tortures he had suffered at the hands of his mother's paramour.
Aslam waited outside the residence of the couple to confront them, but they must have got information of his arrival, till late that evening they simply did not turn up. At last he returned with his son.
The next day he brought the boy to meet me.The boy was totally traumatised, He showed me the marks of the wounds inflicted on him. I consoled him. What really stunned me was the reaction of his second wife on meeting the child, she had simply embraced him weeping as if he was her own long lost child.
I hope she fills up that sacred place in the children's life, which only a mother can occupy.

All Vacuums Eventually Fill Up!

Some time back, I attended a "Nikha". Nothing unusual in doing so, but this time the circumstances were different.
A few months back, one morning, I had just settled down with my cup of black tea, engrossed in savouring it's rich taste, which in it's finest form we all know, not only excites the taste buds, but its aroma, tingles the nostrils too. Suddenly one of my employees, Aslam, was standing before me. It was obvious from his dishevelled looks that some tragedy had befallen him. It was extremely difficult for 'the man' in him to speak out. Finally with tear filled eyes, he blurted out his story.
His wife Najma had eloped! The previous evening, when he returned from work she was not at home. It took some time for him to realise that she had gone away, as all her personal belongings too were absent. Soon it hit him that she had also taken with her their six year old son. Aslam had searched for her the whole night, but she was no where to be found. Their neighbourhood barber too was missing. It was obvious they had gone away together.
I advised him to exercise restraint and wait for the prodigals to return, he promised to stay calm. When even after four days she did not return nor could her whereabouts be traced, he filed a "missing persons" complaint with the local police. The police hardly did any thing to investigate the case. Even after a fortnight, when no news was forthcoming about their whereabouts, he went to the police station to inquire, whether they had any lead, to add salt to his already festering wound, one of the constables present, derisively remarked, "if you cannot keep your wife on leash, you have no right to have one". As weeks turned to months, Aslam became more and more despondent, he had now firmly decided that he would not take her back even if she returned. Yet he simply could not get over the loss of his son, even while at work (which I had cajoled him to recommence), I found him lost and distracted. He had not only lost his dignity, but was facing tremendous hardships too. A wife to an ordinary man like him, is not just his bed-mate, but one who keeps his hearth burning, looks after the children, and compliments his life. He now had no option but to find a new wife.

Through some relatives he got to know that a recently widowed young woman would consider the proposal. The girl hailed from the village Kanwad, which is just across the river from my place. Before any thing could be settled, the girl's parents expressed their desire to have a word with me. I consented and a meeting was arranged. They obviously wanted assurances from Aslam, and from me they wanted a guarantee that he would stick by his word. Knowing him for many years I accepted this role.

Once the proposal was accepted. I discretely asked the girl's uncle, about the circumstances regarding her husband's death. To my horror, he told me it was due to "the bimari", in other words he had died of HIV AIDS complications. I was stunned, and thought it best to call off the wedding, but after some pondering, I felt we could take a chance of her not being infected. I told them that she will have to undergo tests to rule out any infection. I also suggested that Aslam too should undergo the test with her. To my surprise they readily agreed, and the very next day, both of them took the test together. Luckily both turned out HIV negative.

The wedding was a simple affair, we went to the girls house, where the village elders had gathered, the Quazi too was present with the register. Before the formalisation of the union, Aslam had to give in writing on a "Bond Paper", that he would immediately give "Talaq" to his first wife if she ever returned. The "Wakil" and two "Gawahs" gave us the news that the girl was ready to accept him as her husband, and when he too declared his acceptance by uttering "Kabool", there was a round of applause. Prayers were then offered for the well being of the couple, by the Quazi, interspersed by "Amens" from the "Majlis".Thus the wedding was formalised. A simple feast was arranged for all those present, they had cooked separately for me as I am a veggie.

Tomorrow is "Id" and I have been invited by the couple to share their "Kheer". I, am certainly looking forward to it.

The Tamarind Tree & The Child in Me

When I look at it's withered bark today, the Tamarind tree, in our yard, seems so forlorn. It must be at least a century old. Once it was the centre of all our summer holidays. All of us cousins have spent days on end under it's salubrious shade.

In villages a game is played by children, where tree climbing skills are tested to the utmost. It is called "Soor-Parambhya" (सूर पारम्भ्या) This game we have played hundreds of times on this tree. A circle about a meter in diameter is drawn under the tree & a stick is placed in it. The game is played by a group of players against a lone adversary. One of the players throws the stick as far as he can, and before the lone adversary fetches the stick he has to climb the tree, all his teammates would already be perched on the tree branches. The adversary has to fetch the stick and place it in the circle, and before any of the players perched on the tree descends and throws the stick again, he has to catch at least one of the players by climbing the tree, at the same time, seeing to it that the stick remains in the circle. It's tough, as as he climbs the tree, some one else will come down from the other side and throw the stick away from the circle, and he has to again go and fetch the stick. The person caught becomes the adversary.

Under this Tamarind tree we have dug wells, built ponds, and houses, exploded gunpowder, baked bricks, played darts (A circle drawn on the tree trunk as target, visages of the same are still visible even today). On this tree we have built tree houses, tied swings and climbed ropes (ropes had knots to make climbing easy). To the trunk we have even tied our enemies (they would generally be one of the servant boys or girls who would spy and tell our elders of our activities).

When the flowering season for tamrinds came, we would make a delicious 'Chatni' (चटनी ) of these flowers. When the tamrinds were green, we would eat them with chilly powder and salt. Just before they ripened, we would relish them as 'gabholis' (गाभोली) and when the fruit ripened, we would make a ball and lick it to our heart's content. The seeds were 'currency', for many of our other games.

For us the tree was not a silent spectator, but one of us. We believed it loved our company!
Today no one plays there. The Tamarind tree must be missing us and our pranks.

When I pass by it every day, I get the eerie feeling that it is watching me, and wondering " where has the child in him gone?", I too wonder, " where has the child in me gone?"

Second Law of Thermodynamics- Politically speaking

Some laws of nature are so encompassing, that nothing- absolutely nothing escapes from their effect. One such law is the "Second law of thermodynamics". Simply put it says, "The 'Entropy' of a closed system will always increase". Entropy is one measure of 'disorder'. Interestingly the corollary of this law gives us a beautiful definition (first elucidated by Arthur Eddington) of 'direction of time from past to present to future', the direction of time is positive when the entropy of a system has increased.

Viewing the world anthropocentrically one may feel that Humans are at the helm of creation, and their evolution is leading them to a higher and more complex structures, thus making them more and more organised, in every aspect of life. But this is a myth. One has only to look around to see that we are creating 'order', but in the overall system there is more 'disorder' or chaos. Industrialisation did make our life more orderly, but we all know that the pollution and green house gases we have generated has made our earth less habitable.

In politics and business too the systems that we have tried to create, be it the legislature, executive or judiciary, or for that matter, corporations, banks, stock-exchanges etc., are as good as the people who man them, and we have seen them totally disintegrate with just a few inappropriate people at the helm (or for that matter at any position in the system). Though we all agree that democracy is the best political system, we really are at a loss as to how we can empower the most appropriate person/persons?

I think that as time goes by we can expect more rather than less of 'chaos', surely the "Second Law" at work.

Mhaisal Birds II

Some More Birds from Mhaisal

तेजोनिधि लोह गोल

Least we forget, The ultimate source of every calorie is The Sun.

Mhaisal Birds

Mhaisal is located on the banks of the River Krishna. As the "Stage I" of the "Krishna Koyna Lift Irrigation Project", is at Mhaisal, the water in the river is perennial. The "Stage II" of the project is located about 2 KM from the river and a small reservoir has been dug for temporary storage of water. With such nice water-bodies nearby Mhaisal has indeed become a haven for different species of avian life.

Since childhood I have loved "Bird watching". My uncle Dr. Jaysingrao had an old copy of Dr. Salim Ali's, "The Book of Indian Birds" . Whenever we spotted a different species, we would read all about it. Even before spotting the bird, we would try to guess it, by just listening to its song. The differences between the sexes, in most avian species, was another interesting point. I was fascinated by the fact that the male was always smarter looking ,(As against humans, where women, I believe are certainly better looking).

The photographs below have been shot using a "Sony Digital Cybershot DSC H7" camera with 15X zoom. I have referred to "A Pictoral Guide to the Birds of the Indian Subcontinent", by John Henry Dick, with Dr. Salim Ali and Dillon Ripley, published by Bombay Natural History Society. ( In case I have identified some of the birds wrongly do inform me, so that I can make the necessary corrections). If any one wishes to have a "higher resolution" copy of any of the pictures do email me at deepakashinde@gmail.com.