Thursday, April 16, 2009

The Poor Farmer

April 17, 2009
This was a descriptive piece written more than 30 years ago under the heading Drought. It was published a few years later in a newspaper under the headline `The Farmer, Drought and Floods', with the flood part added to give it some length, though excess water is as ruinous as no water to the tiller of the soil. Farmers have always suffered the vagaries of the weather but it's only in recent years that they have started committing suicide. So one cannot help wondering whether `our richest men in the world' really have time to even think of the problem, or the majority of our politicians some of whom remind one of Emperor Nero, in the film Quo Vadis, played by Peter Ustinov, asks for his tear glass to shed a tear while Rome burned during the Great Fire of Rome.


  • The Poor Farmer

The blazing sun shone down on the already sun-baked earth, drying and cooking relentlessly the last vestiges of life in the almost dead vegetation, converting the couintry, for as far as the eye could see and further, into a massive stockpile of tinder while a farmer shaded his eyes and squinted across what till recently was his green crops - that Nature - had so mercilessly robbed from him - by witholding the rain.

The farmer's gaze moved slowly in the direction of the sun-bleached huts, the sight that brought a quiver to his lips as a tear welled up in his eye, trickling and drying simultaneously and adding a tell-tale blemish of salt to his brown, leathery face.

The village lay a hundred metres to the east, listless, exhausted and parched - seemingly devoid of life, save for the swarms of flies that covered the carcasses of a once healthy cattle and the vultures that nature had so graciously served.

The well had gone dry the day before and the hoarse cry of the only handpump held little promise, as the weeping and wailing from ehte nearest thatchment made it clear that Nature's injustice knows no bounds - that the sweltering heat had taken the first human life and there was yet the morrow - more deaths or, perhaps, a miracle.

The rains at long last came, but the damage was done, a few innocent lives lost, a number of cattle dead, the crops destroyed and the farmer disheartened and bitter - the loss irreparable. The loss in mental make-up surpassing the rest, yet, there existed the determination to sow another crop - the need to sruvive `come hell or high water'.

Thus, the fields were again cleared, ploughed and a crop sown. But the monsoons had arrived and so came high water which proved hell - to some, the majority.

The rain came in torrents and the rivers swelled, while the low-lying country left dried and thirsty during the hot months, was now saturated, to water began to rise, as if in connivance with the rivers, till eventually all was one sheet of water, dotted by trees, some upright and green, some that had taken more battering than they could stand, had collapsed and lay half submerged. Logs of wood and buoyant huts that were released from their moorings, from numerous villages, that stood like flimsy beleagured fortresses, had started drifting to no-where in particular.

The less poor among the rural folk who had some form of boat wre prepared to sail. But what of the rest? They would chance to luck and climb trees or roof-tops of houses that were less soluble, if there be such a thing in mudden dwellings - while, their city brethern shake their heads in a show of anguish, and the government at this fatal hour send out groups to assess the damage, give succour to those left homeless and a sthey word it - `fight the flood on a war-footing'.

The poor farmer, the villagers, that make up a great nation; the multitudes that suffer for a few - the city dwellers - that have but to glance into the blazing heat and as a mirage see the tiller of the soil or for that matter peer into the turbulent depths of flood waters and once again - it is the farmer.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

... adds to the joy of the climb

Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy and glory of the climb.
---Winston Churchill

Amitabh, Naseeruddin and Bollywood

Newspapers or let's say the media don't allow anyone to forget who is the most popular, what they like or dislike and then, if it involves two or more rivals, a little salt is rubbed in to spice up matters.
Now
Amitabh Bachchan and Naseeruddin Shah both don't like the term Bollywood. This was repeated in TOI this morning regarding the Big B. About Naseeruddin's dislike for the word he once said, `they (perhaps the media) use it to make fun of us'. Obviously he got it right, in my thinking at least. But we all know the term has come to stay unless the media allows it to fade. Other terms that won't fade but will only shift from deposed king to the new king and superstar to the new superstar. Just like Saurav Ganguly who was prince of Kolkata till he was unceremoniously removed. But that's politics, I suppose.
Now I'd once heard that Amitabh didn't quite like being referred to as the Big B. He never aired it in print. However, I did search his blog for his Raja and Runk story that was published many months ago in a national daily and was followed up with a statement from his brother Ajitabh who was going to bring out a book. The tone then didn't sound so good, nor did the above mentioned story. However, family is everything, family comes first and the brothers are close as ever. The latest is what
Ajitabh said...the public perception of the superstar as a kind loving father and gentleman is both accurate and richly deserved ...
The media has been kind at times good and also rotten. Whichever the case might be it's not always justified.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Nafisa attends Easter Mass at the Cathedral

Ms Nafisa Ali is trying hard to pull in the votes for her election. She was seen in church this morning where she attended Easter Mass.
How this goes is left to be seen because the Samajwadi Party manifesto doesn't instil much confidence. What is significant is that some newspapers have reported that the party plans to rake up the old English controversy. However, a news item today says that Mr Yadav is not against English schools but against imposition of English on the common people. Actually the common people or let's say the `poor' cannot afford a good English medium school. As a matter of fact schools that have some standard cannot cater to the thousands of parents who wish to give their children the best education available. A better idea is for all political parties to really work on improving the standard of education. There have been lots of promises and rehashing of ideas but nothing has improved. Now the plan is for reservation in all public institutions. This I'm sure will be resisted tooth and nail. It will also be resisted by othe political parties.
English today is spoken in some degree by everyone. English words have become a part of normal conversation, just as Hindi words are used by people who speak in English. Even Hindi publications make appropriate use of English words in the Hindi script. This is precisely what has added to the appeal of the English language. It is a language made up of words from several languages, including Sanskrit, and is growing every year with more words being added. This, we must agree with the experts, is how a language evolves.
Had English not expanded as a language it would have disappeared long ago.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Nafisa Ali

It is good to find that someone like Nafisa Ali is standing for
elections from Lucknow. Everybody is familiar with the actress and she
is bound to draw plenty of votes.But this does make one wonder how
someone from out of the state, like the earlier candidature of Sanjay
Dutt, or the many all over the country who get elected from a
constituency to which they have no connection.
I suppose we, the common people, are not to understand even though it
concerns us.