‘Nothing changes, come what may’: This is not just a philosophical outpouring of frustration, but hard reality too. The world may be in a seeming state of flux, but scratch the surface, and we realise that the so-called changes are cosmetic and not core. As night follows day, it is deja vu all the time, with the ‘been there, seen there, done that’ syndrome dogging us perennially. So what does 2010 have in store?
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Now that we are done with the decade debate, which, despite my best efforts, has gone in favour of ‘09s than ‘10s, the year 2009 confronts us. There is no question over that, thankfully: ‘09 is well nigh over, though it might still throw up parting shocks and surprises. In such year-end seasons, it is customory for media houses to name a Person of the Year. I would prefer to ‘honour’ a tribe instead: The Politico.
I have always been ob-sessed with chronology. My hard disk files away events and happenings as milestones, minor or major, on a mental timeline. According to me that is the only logical way of chronicling the lives and times of individuals, societies, nations and civilisations. History itself is the eternal march of time, its antiquity as unfathomable as its posterity is open ended. As a keen student of history
Emperor Nero fiddled while his city burned and thereby entered the eternal portals of history as the epitome of indifference and an everlasting example for dereliction of duty owed to his subjects by a king. If I were Nero’s advocate arguing his case posthumously from this far in time I would surely plead guilty but not before putting up a stout defence.
‘HE..LL..O’! The gruff voice hollered across the small park, though it was meant for an ear-borne bluetooth receiver of a cell phone tucked away somewhere in the shorts’ pocket. To me, walking just a few paces behind the man behind that booming baritone, it seemed as if a bolt of thunder had landed bang in the middle of my head.
News Today, the precursor in print to the Talk weeklies, will complete 27 years of continuous, daily publication on Dec 7. The patriarch paper’s B-day is of course an occasion for happiness and hope: we are happy to have lasted this long in a treacherous ocean inhabited by political sharks and bloated whales; and we hope this luck will last.
26/11 undoubtedly is a significant albeit sad day when the nation mourns its martyrs and victims of an unprecedented amphibious, nocturnal terror strike that shook the world. The ephemeral TV screens that froze with the images of burning buildings for nearly 70 hours may have since moved on to burning issues of the day, but the memories of those fateful days will linger long in the public consciousness.
Thackeray being Thackeray would not have thought twice about bowling a fast one at Sachin. And Sachin being Sachin too would have no problem in hitting this rather bad Bal for a six. Even if he doesn’t, the rest of the country, being what it is – crazed by cricket and dazed by its champions -, will do it for him. So we will not agitate over this raging all-India debate about what goes into being a Marathi Manoos.
Human endeavour has its limits while nature’s sweep has none whatsoever. Even cities with superior infrastructure will find themselves unequal to the task if nature chooses to be nasty. Chennai, in that context, is a sitting duck. A floating one, if you like. Or as days pass, sinking & stinking too.