Heard of Rasheeda Bee and Champa Devi Shukla?
Perhaps not. Not many people would have heard of them; frankly I hadn't either till recently. I just knew about the great cause they have been fighting for, for over 20 years now. These two brave women have won the Goldman award for environment this year for their relentless fight against the horrendous "accident" that Union Carbide was responsible for in 1984. At five minutes past midnight on Dec 3, 1984, the poisonous gas MIC (Methyl isocyante) leaked into the slums and bustees of Bhopal, instantly killing over 8000 people, another 20,000 more at least later on (I am sure these are just optimistic estimates). The ill effects still continue in the people around the area. Numerous research that has been done into this (Dominique Lapierre's Five Past Midnight in Bhopal is one very moving account of this) has me convinced that this was no accident but a series of safety lapses which had made the plant a ticking bomb waiting to explode.
To me, the award is a good recognition for these bravehearts, but isnt it hypocritical that no justice has been done? As for the survivors of the event, even until 5 years after, not a single paisa of the promised $470 million had reached them. Ten years later, they were finally paid about Rs. 60,000 (~$1500) for the death of a parent and about half that for a personal injury. And what about Union Carbide? Union Carbide's chairman, Warren Anderson's whereabouts are not known - he left his mansion in Florida in 1986 and has not been heard from since. Union Carbide itself was bought over by the Dow Chemical Company, and guess what the CEO had to say - "It is not within my power to take responsibility for an event that happened 15 years ago, with a product we never developed, at a location where we never operated". Very fine capitalistic exploitation indeed. Of what use are these awards if no one can go up to even one of the survivors and say "Yes, I was responsible for this accident, and I am deeply sorry it happened". Or is that too tall an order in this world of today? I guess.
Not sure why, but I was reminded of the book The Future of Peace: On the Front Line with World's Greatest Peacemakers by Scott Hunt I was persuing sometime last year at the Keplers bookstore in Palo Alto. It is a collection of conversations Scott had with some of the influential personalities of this century - the Dalai Lama, Aung San Suu Kyi, M.K. Gandhi's granddaughter, Dr. Jane Goodall and more. "From some of the most horrendous chapters in human history," writes Scott A. Hunt, "these great leaders have emerged to show us a different path, proving not only that the cessation of war is possible, but that the removal of hatred and violence from our hearts is possible as well . . . they show us that the promise of peace remains intact. It is to these people that we can turn in order to replenish our encouragement, hope, and inspiration." These personalities have lived through some inexplicably horrible times, and they seem to have been uplifted by the greater cause of humanity. One common thing that I noticed in the book - none of them think they are special at all. Each one claims he/she is only too simple to be casted as belonging to a higher creed that boasts of the kinds of M.K Gandhi or The Buddha.
Saturday, April 24, 2004
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
It has been a while since my last update. My friend S. wanted me to put my day-to-day thoughts here - what I think about everyday, particularly about life here in India. That should be easy, I thought, but strangely it seems to be quite a hard task. Maybe this is because this is the first time I am attempting to write a "diary"; I also realised that the myriad of emotions that I go through make it quite hard to put them down in a cohesive manner. Let me try anyway.
Today, India went to elections. The first phase of the general elections for the Lok Sabha and Assemblies were conducted in several states, and about 120 constituencies, I think. I am not knowledgeable about elections and politics, let alone be an expert - politics seems too complicated to me. But I did want to try to understand just enough so that I can exercise my right to vote and use it in what I felt was the right way. Being the largest democracy in the world, India also has amazing statistics of voter turnouts - well over 60%. I was intrigued to find out that Canada has about 40%, and California is clearly far behind with a 30% voter turnout. Some contemporary works (notably Shashi Tharoor's India: From Midnight to the Millenium and Sunil Khilnani's The Idea of India) have impressed me with the vast contradictions of India - the diversity of cultures, languages and religions, the constrast between the 70-odd percentage of illiterates and the bustling cities like Bangalore that boast of 1-billion dollar companies like Infosys and Wipro. Thinking about all this simply confounds me. What do we about India? I drive around town every day, and cant comprehend the constrast between the swanky BMWs/Benzs' and the heart rending condition of a vast majority of illiterate poverty-stricken people. India, to a large extent, still is stuck in the vicious cycle - to reduce population, we need educated people, but how do we educate such a vast country, where villages are still ruled by largely orthodox beliefs, and children are viewed as just another resource for earning money for the household (therein lies the other demon - child labour)? I am simply overwhelmed. Let me move on.
Last weekend, I went driving about 200 km out of Bangalore to visit my grandmother. I was quite impressed with the road conditions, I must say. I had heard about the improving conditions of the highways and about the Golden Quadrilateral, that aims to link all the major cities of India. But I wasnt quite prepared for the sight of the toll booths, much like the NJ Turnpike, that greeted us as soon as left the Bangalore city limits! They dont have EZPasses yet, though! Soon the roads became a 4-lane highway, and I was thrilled to get my foot down on the gas pedal and easily get to ~120km/hr (75mph). Most folks on the roads seem to follow lane discipline, and trucks usually dont bother to get onto the faster right lanes (quite in constrast to the immensely frustrating driving conditions within the city). There are good hotels/snack places and gas stations along the way (Kamat/MTR hotels, for those of you who are familiar with those names). The highway ended after about 100 km, but I am told, the constructions are underway to continue the good work. Apparently the roads leading up north from Bangalore, towards the other hi-tech city Hyderabad, are almost completely 2 or 3 lane roads. I intend to check those roads out soon. But sadly, it seems that this project too is not without controversies and saddening facts.
One of India's greatest exponents of the Odissi dance form, Kelucharan Mahapatra, passed away last week. He was widely considered to be the foremost proponent of the amazing dance form. I didnt know about him and I was simply amazed with what I read about his life and difficulties he had to overcome. He trained for about 12 years with Mohansundar Devgoswami in Puri, then returned to Raghurajpur after some tragic events. He would then work as a mason boy, water betel groves, do odd jobs, all for a paltry seven rupees, all the while secretly dreaming of dancing. A lucky break with a theatre company, and dancing became a magnificient obsession, an expression of the body, mind and things beyond. He would practise into the nights in the temples of Bhuvaneshwar, training himself and mastering the dance form, envisioning the infinite possibilities of art only as a maestro could. He would say, "As a young boy, I tried to take the train to Brindavan, to see Krishna and Radha. Never quite recovered from being told that it was a foolish dream. Later in life, I realised that God can take human form through art. So you see, all my dancing has been a remembering
of that childish dream". But why was it that even his best disciples could not make the body as ethereal as he could? The master answered gently, "They are trained by human gurus like me. I had to train myself with the Gods - on patachitras and temple walls". I thought this was quite moving. Some of his famous disciples include the late Sanjukta Panigrahi and Protima Bedi Gowri.
Protima was also famous for almost single handedly setting up "Nrityagram", the dance school in Hesaraghatta, just on the outskirts of Bangalore. I could tell another story on that sometime later - I was at Nrityagram's annual dance festival this year - Vasatha Habba, meaning a celebration of spring (celebrated every year on the first weekend of February). It is an experience of all night music and dance performances, simply fabulous, and truly an original experience.
Yesterday, I was relishing Herman Hesse's Rosshalde after a long time, and came across these lines.
One of the fishes sprang glistening over the gunwale of the boat; the other lay flat & still, its round open mouth and rigid frightened eye full of creaure suffering. The whole was cold and almost cruelly sad, but irreproachably quiet, free from symbolism except of the simple kind without which there can be no work of art, which permits us not only to feel the opressive incomprehensibility of all nature but also to love it with a kind of sweet astonishment.
Today, India went to elections. The first phase of the general elections for the Lok Sabha and Assemblies were conducted in several states, and about 120 constituencies, I think. I am not knowledgeable about elections and politics, let alone be an expert - politics seems too complicated to me. But I did want to try to understand just enough so that I can exercise my right to vote and use it in what I felt was the right way. Being the largest democracy in the world, India also has amazing statistics of voter turnouts - well over 60%. I was intrigued to find out that Canada has about 40%, and California is clearly far behind with a 30% voter turnout. Some contemporary works (notably Shashi Tharoor's India: From Midnight to the Millenium and Sunil Khilnani's The Idea of India) have impressed me with the vast contradictions of India - the diversity of cultures, languages and religions, the constrast between the 70-odd percentage of illiterates and the bustling cities like Bangalore that boast of 1-billion dollar companies like Infosys and Wipro. Thinking about all this simply confounds me. What do we about India? I drive around town every day, and cant comprehend the constrast between the swanky BMWs/Benzs' and the heart rending condition of a vast majority of illiterate poverty-stricken people. India, to a large extent, still is stuck in the vicious cycle - to reduce population, we need educated people, but how do we educate such a vast country, where villages are still ruled by largely orthodox beliefs, and children are viewed as just another resource for earning money for the household (therein lies the other demon - child labour)? I am simply overwhelmed. Let me move on.
Last weekend, I went driving about 200 km out of Bangalore to visit my grandmother. I was quite impressed with the road conditions, I must say. I had heard about the improving conditions of the highways and about the Golden Quadrilateral, that aims to link all the major cities of India. But I wasnt quite prepared for the sight of the toll booths, much like the NJ Turnpike, that greeted us as soon as left the Bangalore city limits! They dont have EZPasses yet, though! Soon the roads became a 4-lane highway, and I was thrilled to get my foot down on the gas pedal and easily get to ~120km/hr (75mph). Most folks on the roads seem to follow lane discipline, and trucks usually dont bother to get onto the faster right lanes (quite in constrast to the immensely frustrating driving conditions within the city). There are good hotels/snack places and gas stations along the way (Kamat/MTR hotels, for those of you who are familiar with those names). The highway ended after about 100 km, but I am told, the constructions are underway to continue the good work. Apparently the roads leading up north from Bangalore, towards the other hi-tech city Hyderabad, are almost completely 2 or 3 lane roads. I intend to check those roads out soon. But sadly, it seems that this project too is not without controversies and saddening facts.
One of India's greatest exponents of the Odissi dance form, Kelucharan Mahapatra, passed away last week. He was widely considered to be the foremost proponent of the amazing dance form. I didnt know about him and I was simply amazed with what I read about his life and difficulties he had to overcome. He trained for about 12 years with Mohansundar Devgoswami in Puri, then returned to Raghurajpur after some tragic events. He would then work as a mason boy, water betel groves, do odd jobs, all for a paltry seven rupees, all the while secretly dreaming of dancing. A lucky break with a theatre company, and dancing became a magnificient obsession, an expression of the body, mind and things beyond. He would practise into the nights in the temples of Bhuvaneshwar, training himself and mastering the dance form, envisioning the infinite possibilities of art only as a maestro could. He would say, "As a young boy, I tried to take the train to Brindavan, to see Krishna and Radha. Never quite recovered from being told that it was a foolish dream. Later in life, I realised that God can take human form through art. So you see, all my dancing has been a remembering
of that childish dream". But why was it that even his best disciples could not make the body as ethereal as he could? The master answered gently, "They are trained by human gurus like me. I had to train myself with the Gods - on patachitras and temple walls". I thought this was quite moving. Some of his famous disciples include the late Sanjukta Panigrahi and Protima Bedi Gowri.
Protima was also famous for almost single handedly setting up "Nrityagram", the dance school in Hesaraghatta, just on the outskirts of Bangalore. I could tell another story on that sometime later - I was at Nrityagram's annual dance festival this year - Vasatha Habba, meaning a celebration of spring (celebrated every year on the first weekend of February). It is an experience of all night music and dance performances, simply fabulous, and truly an original experience.
Yesterday, I was relishing Herman Hesse's Rosshalde after a long time, and came across these lines.
One of the fishes sprang glistening over the gunwale of the boat; the other lay flat & still, its round open mouth and rigid frightened eye full of creaure suffering. The whole was cold and almost cruelly sad, but irreproachably quiet, free from symbolism except of the simple kind without which there can be no work of art, which permits us not only to feel the opressive incomprehensibility of all nature but also to love it with a kind of sweet astonishment.
Saturday, April 10, 2004
So, I was just reading this article from slashdot on Chess, machines & the human mind.
The author ruminates on the connections between chess playing machines & the workings of the human mind. There is also a mention of Roger Penrose's ENM (The Emperor's New Mind), where Mathematician-scientist Roger Penrose argues that human intelligence involves not just computation but a grasp of abstract entities such as the Mandelbrot Set. Going further, Penrose's next book - Shadows of the Mind looks at this in a much deeper way, arguing about the non-computability of the human thought process, and using Godel's famous Incompleteness Theorem to show this.
More on this topic later...
I was also checking out Brian Greene's The Fabric of Cosmos on the web, his new book. His The Elegant Universe is one of the most lucid books I have read on the wonderfully fascinating topics of General Relativity, Quantum Mechanics, leading onto String theory. His latest book is on time. I have also, by some good fortune, come into possession of some of the Feynman Lectures in Physics and Stephen Hawking's Cambridge Lectures on black holes and related topics in MP3 format, and I have been putting my car audio system to great use, I am happy to say!
I was reading this somewhere recently (it was in the book Phantoms in the Brain), and I thought it was beautiful. The idea was to try to give analogies to anything that was in excess, wasteful to do, etc. And here is what Shakespeare had to say:
"To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, to throw a perfume on the violet, to smooth the ice, or add another hue unto the rainbow....is wasteful and ridiculous excess."
On another plane of thought, I thought this piece from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam was quite profound:
Then, to the rolling Heaven itself I cried,
Asking, "What Lamp had Destiny to guide
Her little Children stumbling in the Dark?"
And - "A Blind Understanding!" Heaven replied.
The author ruminates on the connections between chess playing machines & the workings of the human mind. There is also a mention of Roger Penrose's ENM (The Emperor's New Mind), where Mathematician-scientist Roger Penrose argues that human intelligence involves not just computation but a grasp of abstract entities such as the Mandelbrot Set. Going further, Penrose's next book - Shadows of the Mind looks at this in a much deeper way, arguing about the non-computability of the human thought process, and using Godel's famous Incompleteness Theorem to show this.
More on this topic later...
I was also checking out Brian Greene's The Fabric of Cosmos on the web, his new book. His The Elegant Universe is one of the most lucid books I have read on the wonderfully fascinating topics of General Relativity, Quantum Mechanics, leading onto String theory. His latest book is on time. I have also, by some good fortune, come into possession of some of the Feynman Lectures in Physics and Stephen Hawking's Cambridge Lectures on black holes and related topics in MP3 format, and I have been putting my car audio system to great use, I am happy to say!
I was reading this somewhere recently (it was in the book Phantoms in the Brain), and I thought it was beautiful. The idea was to try to give analogies to anything that was in excess, wasteful to do, etc. And here is what Shakespeare had to say:
"To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, to throw a perfume on the violet, to smooth the ice, or add another hue unto the rainbow....is wasteful and ridiculous excess."
On another plane of thought, I thought this piece from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam was quite profound:
Then, to the rolling Heaven itself I cried,
Asking, "What Lamp had Destiny to guide
Her little Children stumbling in the Dark?"
And - "A Blind Understanding!" Heaven replied.
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