People write diary entries, writing down their experiences and the important events of their lives “in their own words”. But the guy about whom I am going to tell you about today wrote things “as they happened” as in who spoke what and in which context etc. Without taking up much of your time I would like to present here some of his diary entries. Why I am doing so and who is this guy- you will get to know all this at the end of this post.
5th April, 1986
My 4th class results are declared today. I managed to pass in the academics – 61.327%. My school calculated it as 61.3%, they missed out the 0.027%. These people don’t realize how each percentage is hard-earned. Here though it is one-thirtieth of a %- still, I earned it.
*****- whole 5 stars. Why because I got a first prize in Calligraphy and my Kabaddi team won by 10 points in the final match – after all who’s the Captain? Me of course.
Father: “ Poltu, where’s your report card?”
Me: “Coming baba.”
Father: “So? 57 in Maths, 42 in Science, 39 in Hindi, 79 in English and you failed in Social Science? What’s this?”
Me: “Baba, I came first in Calligraphy and in Kabaddi my team…”
Father: “Shut up! For what do I send you to school? To learn how to shove and run about like an ox and what this calli-whatever is going to help you with? Are you going to paint the walls for 555 chap Bidi or Tiranga chap chaddi when you grow up? And you have just passed in your mother tongue- aren’t you ashamed of it? Look at you- still standing here with your chin high. Get out of my sight.”
6th June, 1988
During dinner-
Father: “The peon at our office- do you remember him Sarla?”
Mother: “Sure, he came to us to ask for financial help so that his son can study. What happened?”
Father: “That very son Sarla, he has scored 89% in his class 10th examination. What a gem! Distinction in all subjects. And look at this fellow- dreaming of painting the walls red and blue with tiranga chap chaddi ads.”
Me: “Baba please. Calligraphy doesn’t mean painting cheap ads on walls and I am in class 8th ……”
Father: “Shut up! How dare you open your mouth! Look at this fellow Sarla. My peon’s son- his father is crunched up for money , yet he is doing so well and my son!! Disgusting!!!”
Me: “Ma can I have half an egg more please?”
Father: “Yes why not, that is what you were having and will continue to have in the future it seems- not only for dinner and lunch but also in your marksheets, Egghead!! Feed him a dozen eggs everyday Sarla- then only his hardshelled brain might open up.”
7th July, 1990
Father: “You are going to opt for Arts and Humanities and that’s final.”
Me: “No Baba, I cant do that, please, you remember I failed once, no twice, no I think …..umm yess 3 and half times, i.e., if you consider the half-yearly results as well- in Social Science. How can I take it up for the rest of my life?”
Father: “Great- look at him. People count their achievements, and this fellow here is so proud of his failures he is remeniscising about them as if counting his gallantry medals. What good are you going to do in science? Paint designs on a dead frog? There is no place for people like you who have dog turd for brain in Science group.”
8th May, 1995
My to-be wife’s family visited our place today to carry out the final negotiations about our marriage.
To-be Father-in –law : “So I hope you won’t demand any cash and what can you demand for a nerd like your son. My daughter is a BA and MA (both from an open university with three attempts at each exam respectively- this part is of course added by me) and she has done a COMPLETE course on MS OFFICE from Yeduppa Computer Academy. I wonder if your son has the slightest idea as to how to start a computer! ”
In case of a common place simpleton like me roles across the table are exchanged even in the marriage market.
14th December, 2003
My Wife: “Agarwal ji got his wife a new mobile and Maitra bhabi , the one who lives down the lane, got a stone studded dog collar for their spaniel …..”
Me: “What is a dog going to do with a stone studded collar? Show off to his bitches?”
My Wife: “Shut up! You don’t have a sense of style, rather you don’t have a standard. You don’t think in ‘those’ levels. A government servant like you-mediocre, O hell! Why did I marry you and …..”
Me: “I got a recognition letter for my outstanding work in my department.”
My Wife: “Mehra ji got his wife 5 saris in sale- WHAT! What recognition? Did they give you an increment for that? Hell with your penniless recognition.”
If one evening I come back home and tell her that I have killed an ambassador, she would ask me if I got paid for that.
No further entries were found after this. Because he was captured and terminated in the year 2004. His factual name ( the one in the official records ) is Devdoot. His original name is not recorded and hence is not disclosed. He was a government servant working in the records archive of the Foreign Ministry. What was his actual work? Not to look after the archives but to bring information to be put in those archives. What kind of information? The illegal (officially) and the trans-national uncensored information, in short, he was an under cover top notch intelligence officer who was persona-non grata
at the official Intelligence departments.
There are many officers like him, who work as clerks. Devdoot started as a common place agent carrier who would work as an interface to transmit highly confidential messages across the border to Pakistan. He was chosen because he was least likely to be suspected. Like the rest of his family, everyone thought him as a common place, ordinary, good-for-nothing, clerk who used to work for the Foreign Ministry, New Delhi. Occasionally people would see him making short trips to Amritsar (the trips were actually made to Karachi, Lahore, Baharain etc).
In a short period he became an actual spy. He used his calligraphic skills to the fullest to carry out stinging operations across the border and in the Middle East. Later he went on to become a Spy Master and a recruiter of agents.The very person whose father doubted his intelligence to take up Science as his core subject successfully masterminded many counter-insurgency operations. His recruits had worked successfully to bring down many probable terror attacks , insurgency and counter-insurgency operations.
Today, though he is no more, his past activities are not disclosed to safeguard the identities of his recruits and informants.
However common place he was, he was finally spotted by the wrong people .
Till this date, his family know nothing of his actual profession and believed that he was killed in a car accident.
People like Devdoot do not receive gallantry awards , neither is a salvo fired for them, yet they form the intelligence of our country’s Military services, without them the services are as bad as a blind man amidst a busy highway.
This post is a tribute to people like Devdoot and to their services for their nations.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
The Common Man
People write diary entries, writing down their experiences and the important events of their lives “in their own words”. But the guy about whom I am going to tell you about today wrote things “as they happened” as in who spoke what and in which context etc. Without taking up much of your time I would like to present here some of his diary entries. Why I am doing so and who is this guy- you will get to know all this at the end of this post.
5th April, 1986
My 4th class results are declared today. I managed to pass in the academics – 61.327%. My school calculated it as 61.3%, they missed out the 0.027%. These people don’t realize how each percentage is hard-earned. Here though it is one-thirtieth of a %- still, I earned it.
*****- whole 5 stars. Why because I got a first prize in Calligraphy and my Kabaddi team won by 10 points in the final match – after all who’s the Captain? Me of course.
Father: “ Poltu, where’s your report card?”
Me: “Coming baba.”
Father: “So? 57 in Maths, 42 in Science, 39 in Hindi, 79 in English and you failed in Social Science? What’s this?”
Me: “Baba, I came first in Calligraphy and in Kabaddi my team…”
Father: “Shut up! For what do I send you to school? To learn how to shove and run about like an ox and what this calli-whatever is going to help you with? Are you going to paint the walls for 555 chap Bidi or Tiranga chap chaddi when you grow up? And you have just passed in your mother tongue- aren’t you ashamed of it? Look at you- still standing here with your chin high. Get out of my sight.”
6th June, 1988
During dinner-
Father: “The peon at our office- do you remember him Sarla?”
Mother: “Sure, he came to us to ask for financial help so that his son can study. What happened?”
Father: “That very son Sarla, he has scored 89% in his class 10th examination. What a gem! Distinction in all subjects. And look at this fellow- dreaming of painting the walls red and blue with tiranga chap chaddi ads.”
Me: “Baba please. Calligraphy doesn’t mean painting cheap ads on walls and I am in class 8th ……”
Father: “Shut up! How dare you open your mouth! Look at this fellow Sarla. My peon’s son- his father is crunched up for money , yet he is doing so well and my son!! Disgusting!!!”
Me: “Ma can I have half an egg more please?”
Father: “Yes why not, that is what you were having and will continue to have in the future it seems- not only for dinner and lunch but also in your marksheets, Egghead!! Feed him a dozen eggs everyday Sarla- then only his hardshelled brain might open up.”
7th July, 1990
Father: “You are going to opt for Arts and Humanities and that’s final.”
Me: “No Baba, I cant do that, please, you remember I failed once, no twice, no I think …..umm yess 3 and half times, i.e., if you consider the half-yearly results as well- in Social Science. How can I take it up for the rest of my life?”
Father: “Great- look at him. People count their achievements, and this fellow here is so proud of his failures he is remeniscising about them as if counting his gallantry medals. What good are you going to do in science? Paint designs on a dead frog? There is no place for people like you who have dog turd for brain in Science group.”
8th May, 1995
My to-be wife’s family visited our place today to carry out the final negotiations about our marriage.
To-be Father-in –law : “So I hope you won’t demand any cash and what can you demand for a nerd like your son. My daughter is a BA and MA (both from an open university with three attempts at each exam respectively- this part is of course added by me) and she has done a COMPLETE course on MS OFFICE from Yeduppa Computer Academy. I wonder if your son has the slightest idea as to how to start a computer! ”
In case of a common place simpleton like me roles across the table are exchanged even in the marriage market.
14th December, 2003
My Wife: “Agarwal ji got his wife a new mobile and Maitra bhabi , the one who lives down the lane, got a stone studded dog collar for their spaniel …..”
Me: “What is a dog going to do with a stone studded collar? Show off to his bitches?”
My Wife: “Shut up! You don’t have a sense of style, rather you don’t have a standard. You don’t think in ‘those’ levels. A government servant like you-mediocre, O hell! Why did I marry you and …..”
Me: “I got a recognition letter for my outstanding work in my department.”
My Wife: “Mehra ji got his wife 5 saris in sale- WHAT! What recognition? Did they give you an increment for that? Hell with your penniless recognition.”
If one evening I come back home and tell her that I have killed an ambassador, she would ask me if I got paid for that.
No further entries were found after this. Because he was captured and terminated in the year 2004. His factual name ( the one in the official records ) is Devdoot. His original name is not recorded and hence is not disclosed. He was a government servant working in the records archive of the Foreign Ministry. What was his actual work? Not to look after the archives but to bring information to be put in those archives. What kind of information? The illegal (officially) and the trans-national uncensored information, in short, he was an under cover top notch intelligence officer who was persona-non grata
at the official Intelligence departments.
There are many officers like him, who work as clerks. Devdoot started as a common place agent carrier who would work as an interface to transmit highly confidential messages across the border to Pakistan. He was chosen because he was least likely to be suspected. Like the rest of his family, everyone thought him as a common place, ordinary, good-for-nothing, clerk who used to work for the Foreign Ministry, New Delhi. Occasionally people would see him making short trips to Amritsar (the trips were actually made to Karachi, Lahore, Baharain etc).
In a short period he became an actual spy. He used his calligraphic skills to the fullest to carry out stinging operations across the border and in the Middle East. Later he went on to become a Spy Master and a recruiter of agents.The very person whose father doubted his intelligence to take up Science as his core subject successfully masterminded many counter-insurgency operations. His recruits had worked successfully to bring down many probable terror attacks , insurgency and counter-insurgency operations.
Today, though he is no more, his past activities are not disclosed to safeguard the identities of his recruits and informants.
However common place he was, he was finally spotted by the wrong people .
Till this date, his family know nothing of his actual profession and believed that he was killed in a car accident.
People like Devdoot do not receive gallantry awards , neither is a salvo fired for them, yet they form the intelligence of our country’s Military services without the services are as bad as a blind man amidst a busy highway.
This post is a tribute to people like Devdoot and to their services for their nations.
5th April, 1986
My 4th class results are declared today. I managed to pass in the academics – 61.327%. My school calculated it as 61.3%, they missed out the 0.027%. These people don’t realize how each percentage is hard-earned. Here though it is one-thirtieth of a %- still, I earned it.
*****- whole 5 stars. Why because I got a first prize in Calligraphy and my Kabaddi team won by 10 points in the final match – after all who’s the Captain? Me of course.
Father: “ Poltu, where’s your report card?”
Me: “Coming baba.”
Father: “So? 57 in Maths, 42 in Science, 39 in Hindi, 79 in English and you failed in Social Science? What’s this?”
Me: “Baba, I came first in Calligraphy and in Kabaddi my team…”
Father: “Shut up! For what do I send you to school? To learn how to shove and run about like an ox and what this calli-whatever is going to help you with? Are you going to paint the walls for 555 chap Bidi or Tiranga chap chaddi when you grow up? And you have just passed in your mother tongue- aren’t you ashamed of it? Look at you- still standing here with your chin high. Get out of my sight.”
6th June, 1988
During dinner-
Father: “The peon at our office- do you remember him Sarla?”
Mother: “Sure, he came to us to ask for financial help so that his son can study. What happened?”
Father: “That very son Sarla, he has scored 89% in his class 10th examination. What a gem! Distinction in all subjects. And look at this fellow- dreaming of painting the walls red and blue with tiranga chap chaddi ads.”
Me: “Baba please. Calligraphy doesn’t mean painting cheap ads on walls and I am in class 8th ……”
Father: “Shut up! How dare you open your mouth! Look at this fellow Sarla. My peon’s son- his father is crunched up for money , yet he is doing so well and my son!! Disgusting!!!”
Me: “Ma can I have half an egg more please?”
Father: “Yes why not, that is what you were having and will continue to have in the future it seems- not only for dinner and lunch but also in your marksheets, Egghead!! Feed him a dozen eggs everyday Sarla- then only his hardshelled brain might open up.”
7th July, 1990
Father: “You are going to opt for Arts and Humanities and that’s final.”
Me: “No Baba, I cant do that, please, you remember I failed once, no twice, no I think …..umm yess 3 and half times, i.e., if you consider the half-yearly results as well- in Social Science. How can I take it up for the rest of my life?”
Father: “Great- look at him. People count their achievements, and this fellow here is so proud of his failures he is remeniscising about them as if counting his gallantry medals. What good are you going to do in science? Paint designs on a dead frog? There is no place for people like you who have dog turd for brain in Science group.”
8th May, 1995
My to-be wife’s family visited our place today to carry out the final negotiations about our marriage.
To-be Father-in –law : “So I hope you won’t demand any cash and what can you demand for a nerd like your son. My daughter is a BA and MA (both from an open university with three attempts at each exam respectively- this part is of course added by me) and she has done a COMPLETE course on MS OFFICE from Yeduppa Computer Academy. I wonder if your son has the slightest idea as to how to start a computer! ”
In case of a common place simpleton like me roles across the table are exchanged even in the marriage market.
14th December, 2003
My Wife: “Agarwal ji got his wife a new mobile and Maitra bhabi , the one who lives down the lane, got a stone studded dog collar for their spaniel …..”
Me: “What is a dog going to do with a stone studded collar? Show off to his bitches?”
My Wife: “Shut up! You don’t have a sense of style, rather you don’t have a standard. You don’t think in ‘those’ levels. A government servant like you-mediocre, O hell! Why did I marry you and …..”
Me: “I got a recognition letter for my outstanding work in my department.”
My Wife: “Mehra ji got his wife 5 saris in sale- WHAT! What recognition? Did they give you an increment for that? Hell with your penniless recognition.”
If one evening I come back home and tell her that I have killed an ambassador, she would ask me if I got paid for that.
No further entries were found after this. Because he was captured and terminated in the year 2004. His factual name ( the one in the official records ) is Devdoot. His original name is not recorded and hence is not disclosed. He was a government servant working in the records archive of the Foreign Ministry. What was his actual work? Not to look after the archives but to bring information to be put in those archives. What kind of information? The illegal (officially) and the trans-national uncensored information, in short, he was an under cover top notch intelligence officer who was persona-non grata
at the official Intelligence departments.
There are many officers like him, who work as clerks. Devdoot started as a common place agent carrier who would work as an interface to transmit highly confidential messages across the border to Pakistan. He was chosen because he was least likely to be suspected. Like the rest of his family, everyone thought him as a common place, ordinary, good-for-nothing, clerk who used to work for the Foreign Ministry, New Delhi. Occasionally people would see him making short trips to Amritsar (the trips were actually made to Karachi, Lahore, Baharain etc).
In a short period he became an actual spy. He used his calligraphic skills to the fullest to carry out stinging operations across the border and in the Middle East. Later he went on to become a Spy Master and a recruiter of agents.The very person whose father doubted his intelligence to take up Science as his core subject successfully masterminded many counter-insurgency operations. His recruits had worked successfully to bring down many probable terror attacks , insurgency and counter-insurgency operations.
Today, though he is no more, his past activities are not disclosed to safeguard the identities of his recruits and informants.
However common place he was, he was finally spotted by the wrong people .
Till this date, his family know nothing of his actual profession and believed that he was killed in a car accident.
People like Devdoot do not receive gallantry awards , neither is a salvo fired for them, yet they form the intelligence of our country’s Military services without the services are as bad as a blind man amidst a busy highway.
This post is a tribute to people like Devdoot and to their services for their nations.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Neo Valentine Saga
In spite of what you have been told by everyone, the truth is that Valentine’s day originated hundreds of years ago in India and to top it all in Gujarat!
Gujarati men, especially the Patels, continually mistreated and disrespected their wives (Patelianis). One fine day, it happened to be February 14th, one brave Pateliani, having had her enough ‘torture’ from her husband, finally chose to rebel by beating him up with a ‘velan’ (rolling pin). Yes, the same velan which she used daily to make chapattis for him – only this time, instead of the dough, it was the husband who was flattened. This was a momentous occasion for all Gujarati women. A revolt soon spread like wild fire, with thousands of housewives beating up their husbands with their velans.
There was an outburst of moaning by ‘chapatti-ed’ husbands all over Anand and Ahemadabad. The Patel menfolk quickly learnt their lesson and started behaving respectfully with their Patelianis. Thereafter, on February 14th every year, the women of Gujarat would ceremoniously beat up their husbands to commemorate that eventful day. Soon the Gujarati men realized that in order to avoid this ordeal they needed to present gifts to their wives…… and so they brought flowers and sweetmeats. Hence the tradition began.
As Gujarat fell under the influence of Western Culture, that day was called ‘Velan-tine Day’. The ritual soon spread to Britain and many other Western countries, specifically the catchwords “Velantine”. Of course in their foreign tongues, it was first anglicized to ‘Valentine’. And there after, February 14th came to be known as “Valentine’s Day” !
-Take this post with a pinch of salt and an ounce of humor, this is not meant to hurt communal feelings.
Gujarati men, especially the Patels, continually mistreated and disrespected their wives (Patelianis). One fine day, it happened to be February 14th, one brave Pateliani, having had her enough ‘torture’ from her husband, finally chose to rebel by beating him up with a ‘velan’ (rolling pin). Yes, the same velan which she used daily to make chapattis for him – only this time, instead of the dough, it was the husband who was flattened. This was a momentous occasion for all Gujarati women. A revolt soon spread like wild fire, with thousands of housewives beating up their husbands with their velans.
There was an outburst of moaning by ‘chapatti-ed’ husbands all over Anand and Ahemadabad. The Patel menfolk quickly learnt their lesson and started behaving respectfully with their Patelianis. Thereafter, on February 14th every year, the women of Gujarat would ceremoniously beat up their husbands to commemorate that eventful day. Soon the Gujarati men realized that in order to avoid this ordeal they needed to present gifts to their wives…… and so they brought flowers and sweetmeats. Hence the tradition began.
As Gujarat fell under the influence of Western Culture, that day was called ‘Velan-tine Day’. The ritual soon spread to Britain and many other Western countries, specifically the catchwords “Velantine”. Of course in their foreign tongues, it was first anglicized to ‘Valentine’. And there after, February 14th came to be known as “Valentine’s Day” !
-Take this post with a pinch of salt and an ounce of humor, this is not meant to hurt communal feelings.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
When Kids "take over"
I read this post at Mr Rajiv Chakravarty's blog which is about green revolution and clean energy. This is an example as to how a child is the father of man-
All this while I have been writing about trees and green things. Today, I am spell-bound to know that a six year old has done a great thing. Here is an email that was received by Janet's Trees for Free foundation. Friends, if it has touched your heart, join hands with Janet or maybe some other organization for planting trees. Its the need of the hour.
Dear tree planters,
Our daughter, Maaike, just had her 6th birthday party. At her party, she asked friends not to give gifts, but to make donations to their choice of 2 charities. One was an orphanage, the other was planting trees in Bangalore. She has been talking about how to stop pollution in Bangalore. This seemed to me to be something concrete that she could do safely. (She talks about going out and picking up garbage.)
She has raised just about 3500 rupees for planting trees and would like to plant some trees now. We live in Whitefield, so, planting somewhere out here would be easier for us. We have some friends who volunteer at a government school nearby teaching english. That might be a good location for planting. Another idea is that the orphanage that we hope to identify this week might have some need of trees.
Do you know of any good sites in the Whitefield area? How do we proceed with you to organize a planting? We can organize some of her friends and their parents to help.
If a six-year old can think of this I think all of us can think better. Unfortunately I dont have a photograph of this little girl! Anyways, all the best!!
All this while I have been writing about trees and green things. Today, I am spell-bound to know that a six year old has done a great thing. Here is an email that was received by Janet's Trees for Free foundation. Friends, if it has touched your heart, join hands with Janet or maybe some other organization for planting trees. Its the need of the hour.
Dear tree planters,
Our daughter, Maaike, just had her 6th birthday party. At her party, she asked friends not to give gifts, but to make donations to their choice of 2 charities. One was an orphanage, the other was planting trees in Bangalore. She has been talking about how to stop pollution in Bangalore. This seemed to me to be something concrete that she could do safely. (She talks about going out and picking up garbage.)
She has raised just about 3500 rupees for planting trees and would like to plant some trees now. We live in Whitefield, so, planting somewhere out here would be easier for us. We have some friends who volunteer at a government school nearby teaching english. That might be a good location for planting. Another idea is that the orphanage that we hope to identify this week might have some need of trees.
Do you know of any good sites in the Whitefield area? How do we proceed with you to organize a planting? We can organize some of her friends and their parents to help.
If a six-year old can think of this I think all of us can think better. Unfortunately I dont have a photograph of this little girl! Anyways, all the best!!
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