The more and more we have in life, The less and less we actually have

The paradox of our time in history is that the affluent and the upper middle class, with all their riches and abundance, comforts and luxuries, crave for more and more. The insatiable thirst for sensual pleasure/material comforts, to the greater neglect of values, morals, culture and laughter, has created a big void in life.

Saint Thiruvalluvar says that “those who are detached and distanced from comfort giving material goods are also free from their adverse consequences”.

Today I stumbled upon the interesting quote by George Cartin which I have transformed into a free versa.

We have taller buildings, but shorter tempers
Wider freeways, but narrower view points
We earn more, but have less
We have bigger houses and smaller families
More conveniences but less time
We have more degree but less sense,
More knowledge but less judgment,
More experts, yet more problems,
More medicines but less wellness

We drink too much, smoke too much,
Spend too recklessly, laugh too little,
Drive too fast, get too angry,
Stay up too late, get up too tired,
Read too little, watch TV too much
And pray too seldom.
We have multiplied our professions,
But reduced our values
We talk too much, love too seldom,
And hate too often.
We have learned how to make of living,
But not a life
We have added years to life
But not life to years

We’ve been all the way to the moon and back,
But have trouble crossing the street
To meet a new neighbor
We conquered outer space
But not inner space
We’ve done large things.
We’ve cleaned up the air,
But polluted the soul
We’ve conquered the atom
But not our prejudice

We write more, but learn less.
We plan more but accomplish less.
We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait.
We build more computers to hold more information
To produce more copies than ever
But we communicate less and less

FULL LIFE

On daily wage earners (Uma Devi Poems)

We are not birds
To carry the burden of nests

Our palace is on the bank of
Dirty river, (Coovam?)
Our bed room is also there

For constructing flyover
To facilitate metro rail,
And to make Chennai beautiful,
You will displace us

Just like butterfly variety tribe
Hopping from one plant to
Another plant
We all fly from
One place to another
Without complaining like
The big belly of the affluent
Who are born to?
Eat and accumulate fat

But, when a small national paper flag is
Pinned with our cloth (?)
And an orange sweet is also
Given to our children
It’ll evoke a boundless and
Endless laughter from us.

Money saved from day’s hard labour,
A part of it
Will be allocated
For Perumal and Iyappan deities
But for taking care of
Children’s education expense
We’ll go to Fr. Suresh only
And scratch our head,
Begging for assistance.

If food swallowed by children,
Accidentally enter the windpipe,
And nature promptly corrects it
Through a coughing sound,
We will go to mosque
And pray for the health of our children
Being devoid of any temple or tank of our own
Our family deity is Buddha.

After our time is
Spent in doing work,
And rendering good to others
The residual time will be
Consumed away by sleep.
Money earned through
Carrying gunny bag load of goods
By pulling rickshaw
Or selling fish,
Will be spent on food,
From the residual amount saved,
I’ll watch new movie
And have Sneha sari
He will have a glass of
Arrack (country liquour)

My daughter will go to
Government school
With torn petty coat
And blouse, also not in
Good shape, but pinned
In several parts of it
Whatever she gets
Sweets or cow’s colostrums milk
She will always share with others
Without any discrimination.

Be it family quarrel or
Anything stemming from his
Concubine,
It’ll come to street
The elder brother Munisamy
Will be the highest judge to preside over the dispute
His arguments and Ambedkar’s law
Will frequently go hand in hand
We have not gone to moon
We have not reached the stars also
But while we eat our rice (dinner)
Dog too will partake with us.

After Thamanyanthi’s poem, now it is the turn of Uma Devi’s poems to merit my attention for translation. The day was my second son-in law’s birthday. I was waiting for their arrival at home. At that time, I did this translation from the weekly Ananda Vikatan (2007). If only my health could co-operate, I would do more translations.

Seven years stress on martial waters: no light at the end of the dark channel

In the valedictory function of one training programme , I was pleasantly surprised by a girl (a woman of 37) who was known to me for one and half decades. I called her girl, because even with the passage of time, she looks like a girl. Currently she is a school teacher.

Once the function was over, I met the chief guest and spent sometime with him. It was just refreshing and satisfying for me just to see him and say hello. There were many other visitors with different agenda in their minds. I couldn’t freely talk to him. Sometimes it’s also good. From my side, I told a few good things that are on my way and he was glad to hear and I took leave.

As it was heavily raining I had to wait along with my young scholar friend. I didn’t pray for rain to stop, as rain God was performing his job to cool the summer. Who am I to interfere in his work? I patiently waited for the rain to subside and stop. At that time, that girl came and my youngest daughter also joined. To my daughter, she was telling how, I was known to her as teacher in PG Centre and so on. She had not changed much, the same talkative girl, with all assertiveness and independence.

I knew, she had undergone a major operation in the stomach and for reasons known to God sleeping in Heavens; everything was delayed in her life, job and marriage. I was hesitant to talk about her marriage. Later, I remembered that many years ago, she gave me marriage invitation. Everything was hazy in my memory. Still it was raining heavily. My young scholar friend was talking to another official. When the girl began to unwind her marriage and narrated that she had not lived even for a few days or rather spent some hours with her husband, it was more shocking and disturbing. Being a bold girl, talkative and highly sensitive, how she must have been managing the impossible, I pondered over.

The gentleman had married her after knowing all about her health conditions and all the compulsions associated with it. There was a clear gap of two months between betrothal and marriage ceremony. They liked each other. She couldn’t find any major problem with him. But after marriage, it did not click and everything changed. There was neither rhyme or music, nor song in life. She says that the days spent together were less and that could be counted and for the last seven years, she is alone.

Given a good parental genes, cultured behaviour and of course to maintain family honour, she is even willing to lick his shoes and prostrate before him, forgetting about all his inadequacies and short comings and be even prepared to resign her job and join him, but there is no reciprocation from the other side. I told her that job is more important and self respect is even more important and her seven years battle, living alone, tolerating the fire of separation, must have a logical end. I couldn’t advise what she must do. Indeed, with all her accommodative spirit, she has tried all possible routes to unite-atleast to live as a husband and wife and adopt a child……but the doors have been closed…… she can’t afford to remain in dark. Fortunately teaching young children should have given her solace and peace, although she finds it difficult to shout. Having learnt tolerance and patience and suffered more deprivation, she must enjoy the profession and turn her attention outward towards society…..what else one can do, when the fellow who married with Agni as the witness, has turned out to be a silent killer, by his sheer physical inadequacy and critical inability to understand her refined feeling and cultured behaviour?

Why should marriage, as an institution become a dead weight and burden, giving more pain eventually? Is there life sexual/sexual side? For many happening in life, there’s no readymade or profound answer. Many questions will remain as questions for ever, although, we must strive for solution, even while answer is elusive and out of reach. It’s easy to conclude with poetic touch. But, what’s the solution for this bold girl, who is in her midway of life. Having lost all the fire and flavour of life and the very prospect of taking steps every day will be full of struggle. A miracle, perhaps take place in her dreams. But to dream, one should sleep!

Meditating again on life begins at 60

In the last few posts, I have been repeatedly writing that life has begun for me at 60 plus. It’s not that I have not had any worthwhile accomplishments, joyous moments or occasions for celebration before sixty. There were many and I have forgotten them.

The fact of the matter is that I did not do many things, which I could have (or should have) done. First let me start with basics. Having been married at a very young age (20 plus) to a 18 year old cute village girl and background, I must have listened to my Economics Professor V. Sasankan’s voice and concern : you should not only love your wife, but also tell her, you love her daily”. I did not internalize his counsel.

After having lived with her for about four decades and fully realizing her anguished anger now, I do feel that inadvertently I had neglected her and offended her finer sensibilities and feelings. My care and concern, love and affection, with compound interest begin now, on the eve of sixty plus, but there is firm resistance from the other side. Basics of love are clear now: seeing the eternal beauty on the ageing wife……. Even in the face of absence of any kind of reciprocation, do we lose anything by loving others? True love implies more sacrifice, more accommodation. I also feel that true love entails more pain and suffering.

Around 50, one should settle down financially, and money should not be a cause for worry. All through my life I had not done any sensible money management. Now at 60, I feel that I should do something about it. It is too late to recover lost ground. A few extra saving is needed for travel and also for the marriage of the youngest daughter. I have never suffered for want of money, as my wants and lifestyle were simple. My better half was more contented than me. For the sake of daughters, some homework must have been done.

Come to think of travel, I have never availed LTC facility, all though my academic journey. I did travel to a few places, on my own. For teaching purpose, I widely traveled a lot. I still vividly remember those memorable three days I spent in three capitals of Bihar, West Bengal and Orissa, on successive days in the ‘90s (late). My first LTC trip to Kashmir and my first overseas trip came along, around 60 milestones only.

My first appointment in 1970 as Assistant Professor in a Pre-Degree College coincided with Headship. It was a one man department. So, I happened to be the Head of the Department. For the next three decades, many of my juniors became HOD’s, but I couldn’t, because in those places where I worked, some seniors were always there. Headship and Deanship came towards the end at late stage in life, much to the frustration among a few at least. With all neutrality, fairness, commitment and compassion towards people I have been not rightly understood.

Human relations have become too fragile. Why do educated and experienced people talk ill of others? Is friendship or working relationship, related to community, class, colour or sex? Why some Fellows refuse to change, even after getting a serious of beating in life! We have not come here to reform them or repair them. At 60 plus, I begin to learn more about the human nature. The persons with whom we move are the same. It’s only our perceptions about them change. Many a time, I have tolerated and accommodated; now around 60 plus, I get the wisdom, dignified silence and alienation will give me peace and more important, more time to meditate and write, as craving for reading increases, as the days pass.

It is only at sixty, my one and half decade old pending service matters, which have been in a state of virtual mess and suspended animation, are getting streamlined, thanks again to one young scholar friend mentioned above. I am a privileged man on earth, as I am taken care of by many youngsters who are incidentally not my direct students.

Before joining the University, I never bothered about publications or project. In the first instance I hardly had any desire to step into this kind of exalted corridor. As the three PhD coveted letters embraced me only after a long protracted struggle, my entry into the University was delayed. But once these letters began to get tagged along with the name, it was just a function of time and I found myself as a teacher in a University system.Towards the fag end of my academic life, now only I make some attempts to apply for project, that too for the purpose of helping students. For reasons, which I don’t want to elaborate, project never rocked my mind. There are many self financing projects accumulated in the shelves for ages and I do fully realize my limitations and when will delivery take place, I don’t know.

Craving for reading and writing has been there right from college days. But there was no tendency to market myself, sell myself, develop a networked relationship and more important, adopt a dynamic approach to push things. At 60 I can very well understand my tiredness. But for nearly a decade on inexplicable tiredness and laziness, did chain me and tossed me into an academic recession .

Now, at 60 plus, the craving for reading and writing, has intensified manifold. But the impossibility to do so, also strikes me, but I am no longer diffident or hesitant by citing health factor or ageing process or domestic chaos for my sluggish growth. Indeed, all these hurdles are welcome; it is too early for me to shrink and withdraw as I realize that my bonus time is shrinking. I must rationally exploit them, and do justice to the profession, as also society. The optimistic hope, “we shall overcome” slogan, must infect you and me and we shall march ahead, come what may.

Life has begun, with remarkable boyish enthusiasm; around 60 plus and I will continue to live, as I had lived thus far, valuing self-respect more and not compromising on principles and my philosophy of life. I have missed many things in life and the wise and benevolent destiny has compensated me adequately. No regrets .

I should decide where I should create a wall and keep up the distance and maintain dignified silence to insulate myself from the major irritants. I have always listened to intuition, inner voice even while predicting crisis in economics and understanding or assessing human behavior
Even in a crowd, I must know that I am alone and even while I am alone, I am connected with others through books and thought process. A series of cumulative failures and different kinds of loses in life including the deprivation of simplest pleasures have taught me, a vital lesson that we must live beyond these travails and feel humble in victory and assert our optimistic personality under stress and distress. Peace and happiness spring from within and they do not come from others. We shall look inward even while socializing and globalizing with others.

Death is always with us: we shall overcome the entire hurdle, while living

A good cinema or a good book must go deep into you heart .disturb your sleep and make you think. In the recent times, indeed for a long time, I have been not able to see movie in theatre; and due to administrative pressures I have been not able to read more both in my subject or other related works. I have a passionate interest to read both fiction and non-fiction. I feel that I have missed many things in the reading list. for a long time This feeling of guilt and academic inadequacy will persist till I breathe last.

For reasons known to god, my time has been consumed away by many in the last few years. Domestic chaos further compounded it. Indeed the latter must have been exploited to do those things which I could not do in the past. At 60 plus, I get wisdom. Indeed life really has started unfolding after 60 only. I am able to see different kinds of benevolent intervention. I am afraid; I would be raising the level of my indebtedness to quite a few.
While changing for the better and also aspiring to be little organized I want to hold on to the naivety I have inherited from my mother and bottle it up partially in order to retain my innocence and child in me for they alone can give me peace. I do not want to be smart nor shrewd, calculative or strategic. They belong to the domain of the great academic politicians I do not want to be a part of that kind of group
Yesterday my young scholar friend was reminding me about the famous poem of Nelson Mandela “we shall overcome” which echoes the optimism of marginalized and neglected. Will Eeelam Tamils or tribal fighting for their livelihood and conserving ecological balance, nearer home l have the fortune and balance to see their existential dilemma resolved?

Will I overcome all my hurdles on the way before shaking hands with the creator? One French Nobel Lauret’s deep contemplation on death comes to my mind. He says: my death is always with me. Even if I don’t feel or realize it, it has been with me always. If that is the case why should I be unnecessarily afraid of it? When it has already arrived and stayed with me, why should I worry and fear that it’s going to visit me at a future date. That will be simply ridiculous. Death is like a page in a book I am reading now, but that is the last page of the book which I have not read yet”.

Therefore, let us read our ‘life book’ unmindful of the fact, whether we will have our time to read until the last page of that book or go while reading the middle; eventually it depends upon that ‘call’. Is it from above or from within, it’s immaterial. The uncertain, unpredictable arrival of death is the only incentive or suspense in the drama of life. We don’t think about it, while everything is going fine. One thing is sure enough, when that alarm bell rings and the call comes, we can’t pretend that we have not heard it. Until then, let us enjoy each moment in life, as if it’s the first or last one and enjoy the value of marginal time. Whether we live one day or hundred years, at each stage of life, we are governed by the behavior at margin. That’s the beauty and novelty of life. Everyone is after fame, name and luxurious life. Leading a luxurious life is not only boring, but also sinful.

Handling the Trust deficit on Doctors: I salute the good and honest

Once, Mr. S. Ramakrishnan, a famous writer in Tamil, was asked a question: “What’s the most deadly disease- the one that can never be cured on earth?
“It’s simply the lack of trust on doctors. There is so much trust deficit today that those who regularly visit doctors for a routine check-up or some immediate treatment, they don’t have any faith at all . They rightly suspect whether the medicines prescribed by the doctors will help cure them. To be on the safer side, they would like to seek a second opinion, by searching for some other doctor/hospital. After consulting them, they attempt to compare the two doctors. The result is that they get confused and become clueless as to who is the better doctor?

“Even while they are under allopathic treatment, they switch over to alternative medicine. And before they begin and take that medicine and complete the full course they give up as they develop doubts about its efficacy. They simply, blindly begin believing whoever says anything about medicine. By brooding over it, they become afraid. That fear is the most dangerous one in today’s world, which cannot be cured”, said the writer.
For a long time, I didn’t visit any eye clinic for testing the power of my glass. Why and how it happened, I can’t provide any rational answer. A few months ago, when I visited a local eye clinic at Pondicherry town, I was told that not only the sign of the power glass had changed from positive to negative and also that there were a few signs of formation of Cataract in both the eyes and they were at the second stage, and they need to be operated.

I was prescribed an eye drop which I was supposed to administer for the next three months. I presumed that it was meant to ripen that component/segment to be removed. I took my own sweet time to buy that eye drop and only once my youngest daughter put it on my eye. The very next day I had my own misgivings about the eye drops. I couldn’t go for second opinion, by sheer laziness and dependence on others for company. Somehow by intuition, and by sheer divine intervention, I myself felt that I should not hasten the process of ripening it just like the artificial ripening of mangoes using carbide chemical and by sheer choice, I abandoned that drop. It was one of the sensible decisions that I had taken in my life. But given the lurking fear or anxiety that cataract was being formed and any failure to neglect this would be grossly stupid, I wanted to have a second opinion from some other popular clinic, at Pondicherry.

A day was fixed by one of former students, who is a lecturer in a Government Society College. By his habitual response, he could not reach me and when he did come after a lapse of a week or so, I was not interested in going. He fully grasped my anger and irritation. So, the proposed visit abruptly ended as it began. Despite my irrational behavior and misplaced anger, there was some method in my madness; I had already decided to undergo the surgery at Madras (Chennai) and hence it was felt to get the second opinion at Chennai itself. .

Thanks to the benevolent care and concern bestowed upon by one of the young scholar friends a kind of gentle breeze sent from heaven by divine, before going to Kashmir, I went for a second Master check up at one ISO certified institution and on the same day completed eye check up also at another institution. He was fully instrumental for the much delayed visit.

The bright young girl (about whose qualification I don’t know) who checked my eyes was all patience and talent personified, but did not comment on the contested question of the state of cataract. She prescribed a better or rather improved number of glasses than the one I was wearing. She took her sweet time and did the job very neatly. The duty doctor, who revisited my eye, later suggested that the surgery could be arranged at any date convenient to me. Being situated in a rural ambience the over all budgetary estimate for the operation would be also considerably less, the hospital staff told. Not fully convinced or satisfied, an appointment was fixed with another reputed doctor in the heart of the city, the next week.

Immediately after returning from Kashmir, my friend took me to Chennai and the said doctor examined, with all the silken touch of her mind and heart and gave me comfort by saying that there was absolutely no urgency for me to undergo the operation. No doubt, cataract was being formed and it was better to wait for quite some time and that tere is all the time to plan it out leisurely, she told. “So long as you have a clear vision, no blurred image and so on, the situation is manageable, we can wait. At this stage even if we perform surgery, the new glass will be no better than the one you wear now. And there is an additional problem of protecting against plausible infection and so on. We shall better wait for a few months or even a year and then think about it until then, we will wait. You just relax and you need not be extra cautious”, she reassured me. I profusely thanked the doctor with folded hands for giving me some relief now


. Medical profession is not merely a profession or trade;It’s a service for a fee. It’s a sacrifice for others happiness. Doctors play God’s role for saving the lives of many. Without offending or wounding the sensibleness of doctors-good, bad, ugly, I would like to say that let each one take up the profession more seriously, more sincerely and more passionately, as if they are wild lovers, engaged in serious love making and must do a correct diagnosis. A gentle touch, a few kind words, and an uninhibited state of mind to spend time with the patient and understand the state of ailment are very much imperative for a good doctor. They can’t work like machines with wheels on their legs. They need to prioritize their time between family and patient, leisure and work and of course need to update knowledge by continuous reading, besides having adequate sleep and not missing breakfast. Doctors, the miniature of God, are you listening?

While completing this, flash news comes from Tamil Nadu that nearly 260 BA degree holders have fooled the public claiming themselves as MBBS doctors or otherwise, what shall we do with those nasalized criminals? Will law of the land avert this kind of disaster in future? Unless and until, the administrative machinery is alert and regulatory framework is in place, this kind of fraud cannot be prevented.

Let us start from Kashmir to do the repairing work in shining India

During Paris trip last year end, I felt France means, romance, wine and perfumes. In the same vein, I said to myself that Kashmir means beauty, nature’s bounty and of course its wounded agony, like a caged tiger. It is debatable, to what extent, the caged tiger, when released, will find its identity and march towards the stated goals or targets; whether or not the new leadership will build a new Kashmir, without being molested/ dominated by any other external agency. I doubt very much the viability and sustainability of this region as a separate entity, with all my sympathy and concern for the poor people’s desire to be left alone, freed from the clutches of both India and Pakistan. . Though it’s a contested territory, I feel that as compared to many other troubled regions, Kashmir is better, and with the newly bought relative peace, the militants must bargain for more development for the poor and also for growth of the region, without affecting environment. I am indeed happy that this part of the country has been not exposed to foreigner’s penetration in the form of FDI.

I do understand that Kashmir is a wounded world, having its own agony and anger, but they are disguised in its ability to express the beauty and youthfulness, generosity and forgiveness and of course the smells and sounds of roaring rivers, dancing tall trees, moving rope cars, falling snow, chill breeze gently embracing both locals and tourists without any sense of discrimination. Both Kashmir and the Greater India can co-exist, inclusive of many troubled zones in the North and North-eastern parts not to speak of the problem ridden areas in the middle and Southern parts; this can happen only when there is more love and forgiveness on either side. Who should forgive whom is a difficult question. But the plain logic is, the oppressor, the violator of human rights, the aggressor sponsored corporate organizations raping the environment, must begin to learn how to keep the diverse population, consisting of mostly wage earners, marginalized labourers, educated unemployed youth innocent tribals and so on together, freed from the exploitation of vested interest both domestic and foreign.

A kind of nominal allowance for horsemen and boatmen operating at vital tourist destinations during the lean season shall be envisaged. More important they should not be harassed physically of financially by the authorities. Of course all these people can thrive even without government’s help. I am told that there is nothing like a lean season because even during winter there is a greater flow of traffic from foreign countries. But the most important, essential precondition for the free flow of traffic is that the relative peace bought between the militants and the government must continue and there should be more give and take. Shall we hope that the recent visit of Prime Minister (it was scheduled the day after our departure) and the discussion with various representatives of Kashmir group will yield and political dividend for the people of the land here.

As stated already, Kashmir with all its ideal and abundant hydro-electric potentials and resources, generate more electricity, but get starved of it for its essential basic needs, as they have to be transmitted to the Northern Grid, for illuminating the Capital city and neighborhood, I am told. This kind of sharing of resources perhaps may be there at other regions too. But, there is something called minimum power requirements for a small region called Kashmir which is fortunately consisting of only small, small villages. Why should they live in dark and forego the comforts of life. Should not they have entertainment at home? Especially when many womenfolk do not move out much and miss the opportunity to see the glass curtain economy elsewhere in the country; should not they watch television for information, entertainment and news?

Let the Federal government be advised about the state of real India from Kashmir to Kanyakumari and take corrective and remedial measures to rebuild the neglected rural India, the marginalized tribal India and much harassed dalit India. It is high time that market lovers like Dr. Manmohan Singh and Mr. P. C learnt that there is life beyond Mumbai and Chennai, Delhi and Kolkata. More important there are many troubled zones in various parts of the country for various economic and political reasons. Therefore, to consolidate the macroeconomic gains, political security and stability are very much essential. For that to happen the economic, political and monetary union of India must be made to work for all the people in the country and not merely for the wealthy business class and a growing tribe called corrupt segment of politicians and their counterparts in other walks of life. Shall we start from Kashmir and do the repairing work?

Before I conclude let me say that during our one week stay there we did not come across any kind of untoward incident. I was told that one day there were some problems the details of which I don’t know which led to one day harthal. There are some elements which provoke peace loving Kashmir people and that must be firmly resisted.

In Srinagar and other surrounding places the public transport system is still governed by 1988 brand small town buses, releasing more toxic fumes on the road. With all multi-colour and make-up they looked like aged tribal ladies. It is high time the old buses were discarded at the earliest and the new modern small buses capable of negotiating small roads and sharp bends are introduced. From environmental point of view they do not have any right to exist and must be allowed to have a natural death. While the affluent and middle class can afford to travel by taxi, the tribals and the poor will rely on private and public transport system

On the first day when I was traveling from airport in a market place I saw a beautiful Kashmir girl traveling in that kink of old dilapidated bus taking a window seat and just smiled at me. Now I imagine how she would look like a divine angel if she happens to travel in a new car rolling on Kashmir valley befitting of its status as the ideal tourist destination. I pray to the almighty that both the Federal and state government should do the necessary homework to chalk out the various plans and generate more economic externalities to both local population and the tourists. The jewel like Kashmir cannot be allowed to accumulate dust, it needs to be polished again and again in order that there will be eternal beauty on its young face.

We shall start from Kashmir in setting things right all over the country: let us have more power for meaningful economic progress

The day before our departure, we had the privilege and pleasure to visit two villages, closer to Srinagar. Our students hail from those villages. Power was non-existent in the late afternoon for charging over cell phone. My youngest daughter, having learnt spoken Hindi by watching television over the years, gave sufficient power to conversation and made Kashmiri innocents, both old and young more lively. Village people are more affectionate, hospitable and innocent; with the exception of a few educated youngsters who think about career growth in Greater India or at Kashmir, others have their own dreams, i.e. Homeland of Kashmir. I didn’t want to dampen their spirit and enthusiasm and say that it was an impossibility theorem, as things stand today, given the international power politics. I could sense some smell that they are feeling disturbed being militarily occupied in select places and I am not sure in what way the nature and content of militancy has changed over time and which group is the best representative of voice of descent and change.

In the evening we reached another family in a different village, two times the power went off while taking dinner. Fortunately they had prepared themselves for this kind of eventuality. In many villages the power supply is very thin like a poverty stricken child and only low voltage bulb could work. There is something fundamentally wrong in the way in which the power distribution is managed by the powers in Delhi. As drinking water is scarce in Sirapunji, in Assam, the region which experiences the highest rainfall, power supply is scarce and non-existent in Kashmir valley which produces sufficient hydroelectric power given its abundant water resources.

I am confident that better sense will prevail on both sides, first to respect each other and then love; military presence will be a nuisance and that cannot generate trust but strengthen alienation. Indeed, if the advantages of staying with India, as a part of its political and monetary union are fully visible in a more tangible fashion and get inculcated in the molecules of brains of Kashmiris and atomic particles of Kashmir soil, then only, the gravitational pull towards militants would cease. By colour, height, facial facts, language, ethnicity, culture and so on, it is not just Kashmiris alone but many other regional populations, have their distinct identity, aspirations and dreams. Perhaps Kashmir will be more distinct and special than others. It is left to central leadership and state level consolidation to generate more development and provide more autonomy so that the Kashmiris will have the sense of satisfaction. Separatism must be the measure of last resort. A jewel like Kashmir, no nation will be willing to part and give it as a gift and walk away in a gentle manly fashion, however genuine the demand for homeland.

All over the world we see, many with their legitimate claim for their self determination, having been persecuted, humbled and humiliated beyond recognition and repair, they still suffer silently without any hope or redemptions for their salvation. It is time Kashmir saw the ground level reality. There are many who are suffering more in the world thinking about those people without their nations, you get some solace and satisfaction that life is still tolerable and manageable.

The Kashmir region must assert itself for its legitimate rights. Shall we start from Kashmir in demanding more infrastructures, better and adequate infrastructure in making the valley a real paradise on earth? Kashmir just does not belong to India alone or to Kashmiris, it belongs to entire world. While writing this line, the power goes off at Pondicherry; 10’o clock forenoon summer heat will soon suffocate me. I have stopped writing now. Without electric fan I cannot work at home. Be happy Kashmiris, Bangalorians, your states are air conditioned by God and you can manage during day time. But night will be horrible without power. I had seen and experienced it in those two villages even while the weather is chill and pleasant. Let Delhi Government understand that only after fulfilling/satisfying the minimum requirements of Kashmir with regard to power, the rest should be transmitted to other regions. This kind of gestures will open a new vista of channel of communication and help draw a road map for a better and secured development of Kashmir. It is not just Kashmir, there are many troubled zones where the livelihood of poor people are threatened in the name of development, exploiting natural resources for industrial development. There is a firm resistance from tribal populations in many poor states against this kind of change as they are deprived of their sustenance of life and the very existence itself. It is ridiculous to talk about youth empowerment, democracy, BPO economy in the shining India and so on when majority of tribal, educated youth, children and elderly population do not feel at home in their own country.

“You are breaking our heart: God will punish you for spoiling our livelihood”

Right from the first day a fantastic landscape followed, wherever we went: Sonamarg was the first place that we visited. The entire Kashmir valley is a feast to the eye. If you sit and talk with the nature and also ordinary poor people there you will get more food for thought. The nature is alluring and also more revealing in all its infinite variety: Roaring rivers dividing the valley into two parts; the mountainous region fully carpeted with fine greenery; Sometimes the dark clouds or white ones remain above the white snow enveloping the mountain; the lower part of the mountain under the blackish shade of sunshine; the rhythmic sound of flowing rivers attempting to say something . Neither words nor camera lens could completely capture this enchanting and reinvigorating beauty.

We were really sandwiched between heavens, as anyone would say. We were kindly and mildly hijacked by the mighty wild but benevolent nature, which was all merciful and benign, majestic and magnificent. After rich food, it was difficult for me to walk. Horsemen, the poor tribals mistook our Kashmiri students as guides and started quarrelling with them. “You are breaking our heart. The supreme will punish you for spoiling our livelihood”, they shouted in their language with misplaced anger and inadequate understanding.

We did not want to reciprocate, though one of our cool guys was preparing himself for a fight. Like too much of money chasing too few goods, and too much money chasing too few good bonds or shares in financial market, they were too many in number chasing limited tourists and it was not a perfect market for everyone to gain at the going market price. If tourists do not utilize their service, and on top of it, two Kashmir boys are seen to be obstructing their normal trade, their anguished anger could be well understood.

Later at Pegalgam valley ,the taxi which we took from Srinagar was not allowed by the Union there to be used for our trip. Instead, we were forced to travel by their taxi to cover a 10 km plus distance. But here at Sonamarg the horsemen were helpless and clueless as to how to manage their trade when many prefer to walk, unmindful of their suffering. Some home work is needed to regulate traffic involving horsemen.

The distance to be climbed/traveled was not very far, and the terrain was also manageable and yet I found it difficult to climb in the initial stage. But once I reached the relatively plain zone on the mountain slope, it became easy and enjoyable. But after reaching the snow region, I did not proceed further as I had not moved into a kind of shoe, needed for wading through that sleepy snow mountain which was however looking radiant under good sunshine. Because of that abundant sunshine we could enjoy the chill mountain breeze. Hot tea, not very much tasty was relished and it gave us more strength.

Towards evening while we were getting ready to climb down the dark clouds had already gathered, and a fierce wind blew for a while. A few drizzles also fell, but fortunately it stopped. Thank God, it did not rain and make our return trip more messy and slippery. Horse came to the rescue of two kids, one grown up and the other, a growing one. They enjoyed the horse ride and neatly got photographed. Earlier the grown up also took snaps by slowly moving and standing near a sheep eating fresh grass with nil pesticide and fertilizer. Small wonder then the meat prepared at Kashmir is more delicious and the young and the old do not think about the cholesterol and heart problems while eating the flesh. Somehow or other we could not do full justice in eating the meat and the law of diminishing utility was at work


Earlier, before entering into the main gate by taxi, a hundred rupee note had to be shelled out. Given an opportunity the police/security personnel do not miss the chance to do financial mischief and impose their own taxes. Sometimes, it is in the guise of a routine check of papers of taxi-men. And at other times, for some entry, which is not official, not managed and regulated by ticketing system, they take law into their hands. This kind of small corruption is not peculiar to this region alone, because it has been there as a part of life, rather a way of life in the entire Indian subcontinent. There’s no solution for this, right now. A taxi man called this by saying, “its all part of CHOR Government”. I told him through my student that Kashmir alone cannot be singled out as a chief villain and almost all State governments including the Center have their quota of filth and the dirt of corruption. And this would make the ordinary petty thief look very great and more dignified notwithstanding the fact that he/she alone becomes a tenant in the prison while big fishes escape effortlessly by bending the law backward.

To me Kashmir means beauty, nature’s bounty. And of course its wounded agony. Not explicitly stated but softly whispered

Kashmir valley lives on tourism, and to limited extent agriculture. Fortunately, given the special status of Kashmir, no Multinational Corporation or local monopoly business of typical Indian variety has penetrated into the valley and molested the landscape. The rururban environment of Kashmir is a clear proof that virginity of its soil has been kept in tact. This does not imply that Government can remain indifferent to the growing demands for infrastructure. The very topography of land – the enchanting mountainous region and continual landslide carried out by heavy rain at discrete times, necessitate that there’s an imperative need for Government to repair the hairpin bends, the shapely curves on the mountain.

For safety and security of tourists, inclusive of local population strengthening of infrastructure is a must. Although, repair works are going on in different places I could see them in my later visit to Pegalgam valley and Atlab valley, developmental work is falling short of requirements. However, given the military expenditure (more guns), the lesser will be the development outlay (less butter). The familiar and much talked about Gun Butter economics is very much relevant in Kashmir. Unless the military occupation is reduced and more funds diverted to development without much leakages in the channel, it would be a Himalayan task to keep the Himalayan Mountains in good shape. Posterity will not forgive if both the Federal and the State governments show gross indifference to the developmental requirements and the social needs of the society.

A quick visit to the villages, which are closer to Srinagar main city, also showcased the same pathetic situation. All over the country, villages are treated like non- entities. We have to start from Kashmir to set things right. As India mostly lives in villages, the fundamental needs of the rural folk namely, drinking water, electricity, health care, connecting roads and so on, cannot be allowed to remain in a state of disarray. The entry point at Gulmarg was more muddy and dirty as was the case while visiting Taj Mahal nearly ten years ago. I am not able to understand why the authorities are not even bothered to keep these highly reputed tourist destination in a more hygienic condition without bothering about the bad name that Mother India will get in international market place.

Journey to Gulmarg was much delayed and the trip was just pleasing. When I stepped into that mountain slope I felt as if I was sitting on the lap of my young mother, looking at her face, with all smiles and wrinkles of happiness radiating on her face. Kashmir could be compared only to a caring Mother, an embodiment of creative energy, abundant love and tremendous patience. At Srinagar before starting, there was mild rain in the morning. Then sun appeared and reassured us that everything was going to be fine. Indeed we must thank our stars that during day time, rain God did not trouble us at all. Lunch was skipped, and the lengthy serpentine queue, took us to the Rope Car only in the late afternoon and we were lucky to get into the second stage of elevator just in time. Otherwise we would have missed the chance of landing on a sunny snow mountain.
It was the pleasantest feeling to be at the top snowy layer of Himalayan Mountain and look at the clouds more closely and kiss mountain breeze with the entire body. Kashmir valley is more like a lovely and lively girl full of innocence, and also energetic intelligence. The ardent beauty of the region is to be admired, smelt, touched and felt. You must have all the eager imagination and child’s fantasy, a poetic mind to get soaked in that beauty and just remain there alone in a crowd, thanking the creator for having taken you to that great height.

It was my sheer misfortune that I was unwilling or unable to do ice skating. But for a short distance, I just slided down on the snow like little kids play game in a national park and feeling thrilled while falling down. There were many young mothers with infants. They all could withstand that pleasant weather. Army camp on the mountain top could be noticed. I was just wondering how these personnel and also those soldiers safeguarding our national borders elsewhere in the entire Himalayan region would spent the time and what kind of thought they would think being alone with the task in their hands. Going to Kashmir valley and admiring those shapely curves is different from staying on the snowy mountain and eating tinned food away from family and friends. The quantum of sacrifice they make to make our life safe and comfortable cannot be just expressed in words. They deserve all our love because they may be having their own craving for love and affection from all corners of the world although the Mother Nature is meticulously taking care of them. Abundant sunshine, made us enjoy the beautiful landscape enveloping the mountain which was really a bonus. In the late afternoon everything changed suddenly and it became very dark.

Everywhere, we were surrounded and chained by mountains and the gentle or violent stream of water loudly attempting to say something about its joy and agony. Oxygen was fresh, but was it adequate for everyone? There were many reaching the top by either walking or riding on horse. There were foreign tourists, taking documentaries, with camera positioned on the slope. Horses were simply obeying the master, without much grumbling. Oh beauty!! What is your price? A popular song rolled into my mind.

On pleasant smells and sounds and shapely curves of Kashmir Valley

Travel from airport towards Dal Lake side made me remember the days I spent in Pune in the early 80’s when I was UGC’s Teacher fellow doing Ph.D. in Gokhale Institute, Pune, the Academic city of India. Kashmir looks like a typical village unspoiled or urban capitalistic civilization. The serenity and virginity of this valley was just bemusing and blindfolding. While remaining in the lap of Himalayas for six days, I felt sad that the roads leading to different tourist destinations were not that good although they were not bad. I do fully understand given the topography of the mountainous region and the resultant landslide due to heavy rains and melting of snow, it is not that easy for any responsible government to-do the maintenance on an yearly basis and yet Kashmir being the jewel of India cannot be allowed to accumulate dust. The entire Kashmir region looks like a lovely village, a typical under-developed village, something like a rururban area.

In a span of six days stay at Srinagar we stayed for four nights in the boat house and that was the most precious moment in my life. We felt very chill during night; as if we were experiencing typical winter. We were extremely lucky that sun did really show his full real face on all those days excepting when there was some rain in evening.

Dal Lake is a vast expanse of water and it is a world of its own. One day we went around the lake enjoying its infinite colour and its shopping complexes floating on the lake. There was also a separate world of vegetation beneath performing some purifying act to keep the water clean. Again, I should mention hear that in many places there were many machines at work draining the accumulated debris from the lake.

On the very first day when I landed, I didn’t fall into any kind of love with this region or for that matter at lake. Definitely, it was not a love at first sight but as the days passed and moved around the valley extending the stay in the boat house, the love affair of Kashmir intensify and god the necessary stream for a sustained sentimental relationship with a entire region for many years to come.

As an adolescent boy starts liking a girl of his choice by seeing her again and again and get intoxicated eventually with her infinite variety of colour and texture, fun and adventure and of course her shapely curves and pleasant smells and sounds of the body, the old man at 60+, the black man from South having a youthful heart and romantic fantasy stemming from his discipline which of course is not literature, became madly infatuated with the Dal Lake and other valleys that he visited in subsequent days. Our boat house was positioned in a pleasant ambience overlooking the mountain carpeted with tall green trees and the top layer of the mountain was covered with snow glittering in the sun like silver. I do not find words to describe its beauty. Dal Lake was virtually savored and relished in the early morning, during sunshine, while black clouds were encircling the green mountains and also at midnight.

This summer is something special for Kashmir, I was told by the boatmen. For nearly two months before our arrival there, it had rained very heavily and at one stage, the region was threatened with flood signal. Never in the history of Kashmir in the last 36 years, this kind of change of season during summer, experiencing abundant rain had occurred. To me it appears as if all over the world the seasons and climate might undergo a see-saw change under the impact of global warming and the melting of the snow in the years to come.

Kashmir two will have its own peculiar and erratic climate, defying the season and upsetting the apple cart of daily life of poor people who are dependent upon tourist. Is nature playing like a truant God in doing more mischief as the authorities here and elsewhere are indifferent and negligent in the duties in protecting the environment. Shall we start from Kashmir valley one of the trouble regions in the sub-continent crying for peaceful existence from terror both from militants and states. It is time all the stakeholders in the Kashmir valley, the lively and the lovely Kashmir valley handled the region in a more respectable and affectionate manner befitting of its special and differential status, not in the political sense but in the environmental and economic sense, because, it is the heavenly kingdom of God.

Let us enjoy being a Leader than a Boss-Kindly remember, all of us are Leaders in our own ways.

Do you want to be a Leader in all walks of your life and render some common good to fellow human, inclusive of your family members, relatives and friends? Or Boss over the rest and inflict tremendous stress in order that you will be singled out as a major villain of the piece in the drama of life, keen to bulldoze the finer sensibilities of those who encounter in your life. In my life, I have seen both leaders and bosses. In my late academic life when I got position, I could behave like a Leader and not like a boss. Sometimes my accommodative and friendly attitude and the gentlemanly polite behavior were also exploited by others. But with a stoic smile I have not abandoned my core personality and with little politics (read nil politics), I have managed many politicized individuals having unfriendly and unaccomodative nature. It is like practicing free trade even while others are adapting a protective stance, particularly in an environment of recession. Now, some extract from my dateless diary.

The Boss drives his men
The Leader inspires them
The Boss depends upon authority
The Leader depends upon good will
The Boss evokes fear
The Leader radiates love
The Boss says ‘I’
The Leader says ‘we’
The Boss says ‘who is wrong ?’
The Leader says ‘what is wrong ?’
The Boss knows how it is done
The Leader knows how to do it
The Boss demands respect
The Leader commands respect
So be a Leader
Not a Boss

(This is a poster on a wall if Government office at Harare)

Let us start from Kashmir-Part Four

I imagined myself as Kashmiri and posed a few questions to myself

The aircraft landed at Srinagar without much problem. Weather was not chill. The pleasant sensation I experienced while landing could be compared to the one that I felt when I landed at Paris airport last year. I know I was entering into a different plane, a different soil, a different climate, all shaped by a peculiar history and politics. Our student was waiting outside the airport .Soon we found ourselves in a taxi. The afternoon was marching slowly towards evening .Here I was told that the Sun was setting and taking rest around 7.30pm only. I was beginning to feel the cool breeze of Kashmir when the taxi was on its long way towards Dal Lake. That brief travel also made me to be reminiscent of the old Pune town, its dilapidated buildings and narrow roads of 1980. At key vulnerable points I saw security personnel standing. I know given the militants problems in the past few decades, this military occupation may have its own reasons. But somehow it made me uneasy. I imagined myself as a Kashmiri and posed the following few questions to my self, while traveling.

Why the hell they are standing for long? What do they actually do? What will they think about us? Are they married? Will they also suffer like us, thinking about their wife and children? When will they sit and rest? Are they really happy with machine gun in their hands? Will they really know what kind of revolt that their machine guns in their hands would trigger in the minds of general public like me? How could a civilian population, normally engaged in their trade or business or farm activities be under constant vigilance? When will this kind of mild or wild military presence /occupation end for the peace and stability of the region? Will there be relative political peace along with economic prosperity for the majority of the poor in this valley? Do we really have a full fledged civilian government, routed firmly in the tradition and culture of the people? Are they,(meaning State Govt) doing any tangible economic good to the masses? Does Delhi government’s Employment Guarantee Programme work here? As there are so many tribals, is there any special programme for them? I could not help myself from asking these simple questions to myself. They are as much relevant for other regions too, but they have a greater relevance and significance for the alienated Kashmir; unless some honest homework is done and majority of the ordinary people are made to feel economically strong, India as foreign concept will continue to haunt them as ghosts.

Let us start from Kashmir-Part three

Prolonged alienation will be suicidal for both
After Mangalore Plane crash on the run way, every time a plane takes off and lands and sometimes wobbles in the mid air due to wind turbulence, there is always an inexplicable uneasiness, fear and anxiety for passengers. I too shared this fright as an ordinary human.I am sure both the crew and the passengers would soon get rid of this fear factor as the time acts as a healing agent.

When I sat in the plane at Chennai airport, I did not have any great expectation; or any kind of set image about Kashmir. As I don’t have much knowledge about its political history and its economic dimensions, I just flew without much dreams, ambitions or inhibitions. But after reaching there and feeling and smelling the cool wind of Himalayas and getting enchanted by the pleasantest touch of the Mother Nature there, I began worrying about the discomfort of the region being weighed down by politics and military monitoring, albeit in a modest way, for the fear of militant’s attack or disturbances.

Our connecting flight to Srinagar was delayed for many hours. The Indian Airlines, enjoying the captive market of Government employees, was an embodiment of inaction. It was just true; there was no one to respond to our queries. This gross indifference on the part of Indian Airlines was just irritating. There was no mention about our flight number at all at the display board. At quick intervals one or two flights towards Srinagar were taking off. Having lost all my patience and the level of endurance, once I located a middle aged lady officer, I was about to give vent to my feelings and blast her left and right. But alas, when I picked up the conversation, I was pleasantly shocked by her kindly gestures and words. “Sir, the flight is getting ready. In a few minutes we will announce the gate number. We are sorry for the inconvenience caused,” She replied. There are still a few souls, which are saving white elephants from being tarnished.

Thanks to the bungling of the travel agent and his attempt to book the ticket at the last minute, all of us found ourselves berthed in the business class. Later I was told that he paid only economy class fare and we were accommodated there. I don’t know how far that story would be true. My neighbor was sitting with a small kid, a cute boy. All through the journey the boy took only water and nothing else. My neighbor was a business man of all shades and color and traveled more frequently. Since he is also a contractor I could get some empirical proof about the quantum of corruption ruling there like other regions.Late Rajiv Gandhi was very much worried about rampant corruption in Bombay congress meet long ago. At that time the young leader was very much concerned that very little indeed reached the common man from the Government expenditure.This hydra headed monster has assumed a Himalayan proportion now. A casual chat with him made me realize that how Kashmiris, having their own distinct personality and life style are getting themselves alienated from the mainland .I put it differently to him that India has not made any sincere or serious attempt not only to assimilate and absorb the Kashmiri population but also the North eastern states into the mainstream politics and economics. I will come back to this question later.

Like a small kid , taking only water and not touching anything else, treating them as foreign, Kashmir too doesn’t want to have much truck with the mainland. I could smell and feel that in the next one week. Please note, this feeling of alienation was very subtle, gentle and fully explicit; but I must hasten to add that almost all the Kashmiris I met were very polite, polished and refined in their behavior. For this prolonged alienation, who is to be blamed? I don’t know. But one thing is clear to me that the both sides must do a honest soul searching and try to develop deep bonds, avoiding the trust deficit among themselves in order that like a typical traditional Hindu marriage the political union would survive and sustain itself on a stronger foundation with mutual give and take. But it is easier said than done because the crucial economics has not gone deep into the soil of Kashmir and dirty and destructive politics has virtually molested that rich soil. Kashmiris are neither poor nor rich.Mnay tribals are in a pathetic state, struggling with subsistence living and dependent on horse, grass and forest food and of course on the arrival of tourists. Being poor and ill clothed they fight among themselves for survival. I will come to that aspect later; it is really a Darwin’s world for the survival of the fittest.

Let us start from Kashmir –Part Two

‘Life begins at Sixty’: very much true in my life

The famous statement that ‘life begins at sixty’ has become very much true in my life. After my first overseas Paris trip, followed by a package tour to Dubai ,Abudhabi and Srilanka last year, I was lucky to undertake my first LTC trip to the Kashmir Valley, the lovely paradise on Earth, in the last four decades of my energetic academic life.

Today I was pleasantly surprised by my B.P reading showing exactly 120/80 .I must share with the readers that on the eve of Kashmir trip, one day by sheer accident I had an opportunity and compulsion to take the B.P reading both during morning and later in the evening. To my great surprise, this ideal figure appeared then also. I know that this is not my normal reading but I must hasten to add that despite my regularly irregular nature of taking B.P tablets and also not adhering to any worthwhile discipline in diet and exercise, the Supreme has been taking care of me with motherly care and father’s compassion.

This does not mean that I shall continue to remain indifferent to my health and diet; the benign reading gives me an optimistic hope that I will have my own time, albeit limited in the marginal sense to read more beyond economics and get some comfort that there is life even after sixty. Indeed without undermining what I have done in the last forty years I only know that I am yet to start my productive academic life.

Today morning while purchasing groceries at a nearby Chettiar shop, one old student of P.G centre in the early 90’s surprised and shocked me by saying that they cannot forget the three stars of the department namely, D.D, D.M, and D.S. What else one needs in this life- the most insipid life of shallow economic globalization than to get a real tribute from old students borne out of love towards that segment of teaching community practicing work ethics.

I may not have built huge fortunes, given my naivety in not managing my finance nor rendered a minimum justice to my family’s happiness and peace, but there is a feeling of fulfillment and contentment that life at sixty is worth savoring by looking at the past, the distant past which will never come back in concrete real time, but again and again would resurface in the shades of the molecules of the brain.

I know, the time has come to streamline my entire academic, domestic and financial life in the real sense of the term and the Supreme has already sent the key ambassadors and messengers to sort out all the outstanding issues. Now I need not look back, but only to look forward with quiet confidence and heightened optimism about many academic things to be accomplished.Furthurmore some minimum stretching, some nutritious food, deep sleep and even irregular walking schedule can help my physical system to function with less wear and tear.

When I began ‘life begins at sixty’, it was not meant to contemplate what all I have written, but only to marvel at the destiny, the wise and benevolent destiny which took me to Kashmir Valley just like that, in order that I will be soaked in enjoyable chill breeze, sunshine, mild drizzles, including the unadulterated love of the village folk.I am not able to believe all these. It has just happened. Kashmir has been always projected as a troubled political zone. Movies have vastly exaggerated their inner tensions of the region without really going into the fundamental problems that confront them. I will write more about Kashmir trip which was made possible by the initiative of my colleague in the campus,which was ably assisted furthur by our student community-the social capital that we have built-up.

Let us start from Kashmir – Part one

Kashmir, Beautiful Kashmir.

After spending nearly a week in Kashmir valley I landed at Chennai Airport around 8 P.M yesterday and reached home before midnight. Daughters and grand children were wide awake to say hello. Indeed it was refreshing to breath the hot air once again, the discomfort of torrid zone, after staying cool for a week.Fortunately it was not that hot as it had rained here .

This was my maiden visit to politically troubled and tormented region of the extreme north India .During my brief and bright stay there, I did not notice any trace of political turmoil excepting that frustratingly irritating military presence,CRPF personnel standing at key vulnerable points in large numbers. As Prime Minister was supposed to visit today, Pandobust arrangements were tight yesterday. While I was stepping down from the boat at Dal Lake, I could see the police vans, pouring out Jawans with all guns. Even the neat roads were swept for the Prime Minister to inhale fresh air although he would be traveling in a bullet proof A/C car. We were told that the tourists will have hell of trouble today in view of the Prime Minister’s visit. I was just wondering what would happen to the livelihood of many boatmen and other inhabitants surrounding the Dal Lake .

Travel from Dal Lake boat house by taxi to Srinagar airport, was halted at many points by security personnel for the security check. “Was it a routine affair or something to do with Dr.Singh visit next day?” I asked my students who were accompanying our tour party, all through the week. “It was normally the case sir, while moving towards Airport” they replied.

It was highly irritating to be stopped at different points by policemen who could neither understand Pondicherry University nor the title Professor. By sheer helplessness they would blink and allow us. On the mid way, the taxi was checked and the driver was asked for his papers. He stopped and showed all the papers they asked for. When he came back to the seat, I asked the driver, “Were you asked to pay any amount?” “No”, he said. I was relieved. The previous day , on our way to Pehalgam, the driver had to shell out a single note of hundred rupees, for not wearing proper uniform. Next to Bihar, it is said that Kashmir is the most corrupt state and I could see the traces of that in a modest way when the policemen were doing the routine job of checking the papers.

Kashmir, beautiful Kashmir is a lovely song in Tamil. I had heard when I was a college student. To see that lovely place at the ripe old age of sixty was indeed a fortune . I was lucky and also a privileged person to spend a few days in Kashmir valley, sit on her lap, walk on the snow capped mountain, talk to tribals in body language and drench myself in the fresh oxygen and also the unadulterated love of village folk .

One day at 11 Pm in the night with chill breeze I came out of the boat house, stood in the verandah and watched the Dal Lake, brisling with glittering lights with all love and quiet .I told myself , “God does live there.” While Kerela is called God’s own country, Kasmir valley is just the ‘Heavenly Kingdom of God’ and no matter, however the genuine Kashmiris resist being part of India , the latter cannot abandon it because Kashmir is so lovely and beautiful and no nation shall give this as a gift to others. But here others are not others but the real natives who have their problems with both Pakistan and India. I don’t have much information about the fundamental causes for the continuing friction between the people of Kashmir and the federal government. I will read more in future. Whatever may the issues involved , one thing is sure enough that not only Kashmir but many other north eastern states cannot be allowed to be alienated from the mainstream India . Here, I will assertively say that Economics and Economic development have not penetrated into these unfortunate regions. While documenting my emotional infatuation with Kashmir valley I will also write about the wounded agony of this beautiful Kashmir.