Kim Jong-un- the new role model for Indian politicians

Dear Indian leaders,

My heart bleeds for you. You have been shortchanged. In India’s recent past, first came the Mughals who controlled the sun-continent and then the British. When India got ‘freedom’, Indians chose to become a democracy. And you lost you freedom. And your power. You are accountable to a billion people who could vote you out for the merest infarction.  Now, it is becoming impossible to control the mad Indian population. More and more Indians are getting educated, are questioning your actions, are doubting your good intentions and they are protesting too hard. In press, in the social media, in drawing rooms, on the streets. There is no fear anymore.

You need to re-examine your idols dear leaders.  Mahatma Gandhi, Ambedkar, Martin Luther King and Nelson Mandela are of an era long gone by. It is time for a change. 

Embrace North Korea’s Kim Jong-un and his deceased father Kim Jong-Il as your new idols. Now that is what a leader should be, and what a ‘democracy’ should be like. Absolute power. Life would rock for you...and your loved ones. 

There would be no reason to allow citizens silly freedoms like right to speech and right to information, and then have them criticise the government. No  reason to divide the populace along caste, community or economic lines because there would be no incremental benefit in voting preferences . No need to pretend that you need to travel abroad to learn about Beijing’s infrastructure, or US’s medical system or Africa’s handling of poachers - all  valuable lessons that will help you serve India and its people better. No need to explain your actions and how patriotic you really are. 

Imagine the ease with which our huge elections could be conducted. Instead of the mela and tamasha of the Indian elections, there would be songs made only for the leader of the nation. No need to pay money or bribe voters with gadgets, liquor and food to vote for a particular party or candidate . As in North Korea, the ballot paper would have only one name. People will either say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ to the candidature. Saying no could lead to the ‘disappearance’ of the citizen . Look at the  benefits though - -there would be almost a 100% turnout, and you  would be able to assess who had not voted, were not patriotic, and if they were still living or dead. No need for an expensive population census that is done every decade. Better still, Arnab Goswami would not be raving on TV saying ‘India demands answers.’ India would be you!  You will decide the questions, the answers. And would shine. 

Finally Indian people will leave you alone and let you enjoy the fruits of your hard work.  Like Kim Jong-Il, you would be able to use all the government machinery and money to get the freshest fish from Tokyo, the best meats from Argentina, tulips from Holland , perfumes from Paris,caviar from Iran or original scotch from Scotland . You won’t  have to answer to petitions on your  sources of money.You can build a bullet proof swimming pool in your mansion, have parties with beautiful Indian girls as sex-slaves and buy everything your family desires. Now that is life!

Dear politician, with Kim Jong-un as your idol, you would not have to suffer criticism from ordinary Indian citizens. Just send them off to communal labour farms with their whole families , or to re-education camps for them to ‘learn’ what greatness you bring to the nation .If they protest too much, send them off to kwan-li-so gulags from where no one ever returns. 

Oh wise Indian leaders, Indian citizens are self-centred and their constant demands for roti-kapda-makan are oh-so-boring. They don’t credit you with intelligence, and ability. It is time to show them what you truly are. Like Jong-un’s father Kim Jong Il. He ‘retired’ from golf because the first time he played it on his 62nd birthday, he demolished a par 72 course in just 34 strokes, managing a five holes-in-one on the way. He wrote six operas, the best in the world, in two years. He invented the hamburger in North Korea. You have similar feats but right now, all that Indians focus  on is you using the pepper spray in the Parliament. 

You will be able to control weather like Kim Jong-Il and relieve India of its perennial problems of drought and famine. Unemployment will become a thing of the past, because you can send Indians (no questions asked) to Siberia in exchange for precious foreign exchange. 

And dear leaders, your children will finally get recognition for being the superstars they are. Right now citizens think that your children enter politics because ‘baap ki dukan hai’, and don’t appreciate how well qualified they really are.Maybe like Kim Sung-Il, they also wrote 1500 books in the university (instead of burning them), and chastised their teachers in school for incorrect interpretations of history. Or like Kim Jong-un, they play basketball/cricket/soccer better than the pros. At the young age of three, they must also have performed amazing feats like driving cars and shooting guns! And indeed like the porky Kim Jong-un, your son is the ‘sexiest’ man alive. 

Statues, portraits and frescoes of you will dot the country and your handsomeness will be there for all to see. Who will then care about chronic food shortages, famines and aid required? Just a glimpse of you will convert air into food and fill the stomachs of people. Anyways, it will be good for Indians to subsist on less food - you would have cured Indians of obesity and reduced the occurrence of  diabetes and  other lifestyle diseases. That is big social service. 

Forgiveness is over-rated. Why should you let your enemies live? Especially confidants who betray your confidence and defect to the party that gives them more money?You can get rid of them by making them ‘disappear’. Have your ex-girl friend executed  by a firing squad, feed your uncle to hungry dogs, kill off entire families of people who dare to dissent - the possibilities are endless.Remove traces of them having ever lived  by digitally removing them from pictures and movies. 

And dear leaders, don’t get scared of stupid concepts like Karma. Always remember what George Orwell said in 1984. 

“He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present controls the past.” 

No one will remember any version of history, except the one that you choose to write.

Think about it. North Korea is the way to go!!

What's In A Name?

The lady at the visa counter for The Czeck Republic was quite chatty as she processed my papers. When she was done, she remarked, “You know , you are one of the few Indian women I know who has taken her husband’s surname.’ I smiled at her and said,‘Well, he is a great guy, so I don’t mind at all’.

Call it cheap thrills, but I felt immensely happy for my Indian sisters. Perhaps it is a sign of independence of some sort that they can retain their maiden names in a terribly feudal society. 

Granted the Czeck lady  has limited exposure to Indian women. Granted also that my Indian world is also not the largest, but her comment set me thinking. I mentally drew up a quicklist of women  I know - from my family,  school, college, MBA, work and friends. And realised that she was right. Nearly 80% of all women I know have retained their maiden names after marriage. Some have only their original names  while others have changed their names to insert the maiden surname before the husband’s. 

When I got married, I was firm that I would not change my name. Being Preeti Bakshi meant the world to me and defined my identity. I reasoned that I was not some uneducated girl being palmed off to a guy. I would not be financially dependent on him and so had a right to my own choices.  No one asked the guy to make these changes, so why should I have to do it? After all, I had been brought up as more than an equal in my maternal home! So what was good for the goose, was good for the gander! 

It did not matter to Praneet at all. He simply didn’t care about this. 

I toyed with what I wanted to be known as. Option 1 - Preeti Bakshi, in which case, I did not need to change my bank accounts, my passport, my signature or anything. I only needed a legal document that would state that I was now married. Option 2 - Preeti Bakshi Singh. This did not have an elegant ring to it. After all, traditionally Singh should come before Bakshi. But Preeti Singh Bakshi did not sound right either. 

In the end, a simple matter helped me make the choice. I was traveling a fair bit on work post marriage, and every time Praneet called me at the hotel, the operator would connect him to my room and say,’Mr Bakshi is calling’. For some inexplicable reason, that made me feel really bad. The next time we had to sign some legal documents, I simply signed as Preeti Singh. 

Eighteen years into my marriage, I realise it was really no big deal at all. Marriage is so much more than a name change. You change in myriad different ways, and through love, affection, fights, misunderstandings and sheer hard work, you become family with the person you married. 

As Preeti Bakshi, the  daughter of fairly liberal, yet conventional parents, I got the support to extend myself out into the world. I was the star in my family - the first to do a MBA and get a job , and every thing I did was always celebrated in the proud, extended family. At work, and in my relationships, I was brash, downright honest and outspoken. And much pampered and loved.

 If anything, being Preeti Singh has expanded my world view. I learnt to be a mother, a wife. I learnt to put my family before my own needs, and I learnt to manage extended family relationships. I learnt financial dependency on my husband, because I was fortunate enough to be able to take a break to bring up our children. I cruised along a different , more diverse career that does not pay me much, but is immensely fulfilling. I never view any of this as a sacrifice, compromise or an adjustment. To me, all of this is an investment - into the kind of life I want for my family and me. 

In all this, I did not lose myself. When I meet people who knew me as Preeti Bakshi, the comment I hear most often is,‘You have not changed at all’.  I could take the credit - praise myself for my feminist streak and claim that I would not be chained by anyone. The truth is different - I am the same because of my husband . He is a spiffy smart, intelligent human being who is secure enough  to not have imposed himself on me. He loves me just the way I am - with all my imperfections.

I am really proud of all my friends, colleagues and cousins who retain their maiden names. They all rock. They are not hard core feminists, but incredible wives ,mothers and friends, and all of them are successful at whatever they have chosen to do. And some of their stories regarding the various mix-ups of the surnames are hilarious (and material for another blog).  

For me though Preeti Singh has a beautiful ring to it. It speaks to me of a much loved mother and wife ( and daughter and sister!) . It tells me about a woman fortunate enough to have great friends who have her back. Of a woman blessed enough to have all her dreams come true. 

I wouldn’t change it for anything!

Meeting an Ex

My friend told me she was sending me a picture of her ex with his cow. My sleep addled brain processed that literally - that Mr M was milking his cow and wiping his sweaty brow with a towel. I didn’t know he owned a dairy! 

When she sent me the picture, it was of a shirtless man with a towel wrapped around his ample waistline, and his weighty wife. And his ‘cow’ had her arm around him possessively. When my friend had accidentally bumped into them at the Club, Mrs M glared at her as if she were a Menaka incarnate, come to lure away her Vishwamitra!

It cheered up my friend no end.It reinforced her belief that no matter what her problems in life, atleast she is not Mrs M.  (Thank god! Coz my friend is married to a great, good looking guy and in her 40s, she looks like a million bucks! And frankly Mr M was never good looking to start with (or a great person), and he is so sad-looking now).

I get her feelings totally.

If I had to see my ex again, and see a paunchy, balding man , my heart would break. And if his wife looked insecure, it would make me gag. I mean, if we did not end up together then, when we were young and beautiful, why in God’s name would  I want that oaf in my life now? And if he looked as good as he did in the past, well, I knew that guy already, and knew why he was absolutely the wrong guy for me. Leopards don’t change their spots! I would still not want him and neither would I envy his wife.

Suddenly I felt tremendously relieved that I have no clue where my ex might be. I don’t know where he lives, what he does for a living, what he looks like, who he is married to, how many kids he has, how his house looks like and how his life turned out to be. 

I would keep it that way. I don’t want to meet him and get the feeling,‘This?  This is what I loved/liked in my past? What a loser I am!’ (Ofcourse, my dear husband will say that the guy will take one look at me and think the exact same thing!)

It is so much better to retain bittersweet memories of people you may have shared a past with. A bitter fall-out or not, over the years you mellow down, let go of the anger and think of it as a rite of passage into adulthood. It is nicer to remember them young as you knew them, and were briefly part of each other's journeys. It is nicer to create a story in your mind about what-ifs and how-nots, instead of facing their sad truth in the present.

There is a reason that some people from your past did not make it to your present . Leave the intrigue and the drama right there - in the past! 

Dr Manmohan Singh and Us

My first reaction to Dr Manmohan Singh’s announcement that he was going to step down after the elections was one of derision. I  had admired Dr Singh for the longest time. An educated man ,many light years ago in the 1990’s , Dr S ushered in an economic revolution that greatly benefited most of us middle class Indians and our aspirations .He is also a Sikh. So when he became the PM, it was a wonderful feeling for me- as an Indian and as a Sikh.

Ofcourse, it did not take long for disenchantment to set in as Dr S sat mute and his party and cohorts raped and bled India royally. This time round, nothing he did (if he did anything at all) was right. I felt let down - as an Indian, as a Sikh. And wondered how any human being could be so depraved and so craven to be a puppet for so long. Even after it was evident that he commanded no power, no respect and certainly had few admirers. Had he no self respect at all? Did his family not advice him on this?

On second thoughts I empathise with him.  We might have wanted him to behave differently, but he behaved like most of us do at some point in our lives. How many times have we been caught in uncomfortable positions? Unhealthy friendships that rob us of our self worth, disastrous marriages that we make excuses to live in, jobs and bosses that humiliate us and we continue to struggle in them, an unhealthy relationship with food that makes us like or hate food and brings on loads of problems?

In all those situations, we know we must walk away. After all, why would you stay in a relationship that sucks happiness from you, why be friends with people who betray you, why stay in a job that you work hard at and that brings you no joy? Why would you continue to abuse your body with food and alcohol when it can no longer bear it? We get robbed of our trust, faith, happiness, self esteem and even self respect. Instead of listening to the inner voice, we cling - cling to people who kick us, bosses who insult us, relationships that depress us, eating habits that make us sick. 

Why do we do this? 

Because of Compulsions. Compulsions of love, of greed, of need, of want, of fame. 

Because of Hope. Hope that tomorrow will be a better day. That if we hang in there, we will be loved, respected, desired, wanted, appreciated. Hope that something will give. 

We don’t know what Dr S’s compulsions are, or what he had hoped to achieve by hanging in there. Yes, he looks pathetic. Yes, we have lost respect for him. Yes, he should have known better, because a nation depended on him. Yes, he let us down.

 But then we let ourselves down too. When we let other people walk over us, when we refuse to listen to the inner voice that is urging us to behave otherwise, when we make excuses to stay in relationships or jobs that are no-good, we betray ourselves and our loved ones. 

I don’t hate Dr S so much anymore. He is only human. And I hope he will find his peace when he finally moves away from the situation that has not brought him fulfillment. 

It is only human - to not know when to walk away or when to run - until it becomes too late!

Mid-Life Crisis

I have these grand visions of my future. That I will be a well known writer by 50, will have  hugely successful children, will be surrounded by my family and friends, and will die at 70. By then I will have a decent number of wrinkles on my face, adequate fat on my already plump self , still be physically and financially independent and will have my mental faculties intact. 

By that yardstick then, mid life crisis should have hit me at the mid-point of 35 years. Instead , it hit me just about the time I turned 40. And continued for a good two years. The mid-life crisis took me completely by surprise. I thought mid life crisis was a joke.  When my husband turned 40, he got into fitness in a big way. This lazy man would get up in the mornings, lace up and go for a walk or run and actually joined a gym for weight training too. I used to tease him that he was trying to hang to a youth that was in a rush to leave him. 

When it hit me, I realised, to my great anguish and consternation,that mid life crisis is  very real. And can turn your life completely topsy turvy.  The good news was -  I was not alone in this misery -  it hits nearly everyone - in varying measures ofcourse. 

My midlife crisis began with my walking out on a job I loved. Disney was my dream company and I was doing extremely well there . I wanted to do something else - write something that added value to me, instead of creating preschooler books that are available by the dozens in the market. When I walked out my job, I walked out on a life. A life that was full of colleagues who added value to my life, friends who brightened up my work day, and a brand name that was critical  to my self-esteem. 

Life went downhill for me from then on. I had opened the doors to negativity because I was in such emotional turmoil. All that year, I struggled with finding my groove in terms of work ,and foolishly  took up an external assignment that was a disaster. My sister and I stopped talking because I was constantly taking off on her - on her life, her choices, her relationships, her job. I connected with some old friends, having quite forgotten that there was a reason I had deleted them from my life in the past. And that they would cause misery to me again. And they did. In ways worse than they had before. I questioned my life with my husband, and blamed him for all the choices I had made in my life. I would have walked out on him. I hated my house - it seemed to choke me. I partied hard. I am not too much of a drinker, but I drank a lot in those months. I took pills to help me sleep. I hated everything about my life at that point.

I consider myself a happy person. The thing I love the most about me is my smile. And yet, for almost two years, my heart refused to smile. It was so full of resentment. Of anger , of bitterness. I am not a negative person, and depression was an unknown entity up until this point. And I wondered how I would live the next few decades in this unhappiness. There was nothing to look forward to -except to see my kids study and settle down. And then what?

I fell sick. With a multiple liver abscess. I was hospitalised for two weeks  and then took another year to full recovery. It was almost as if I had so loaded myself with negativity that my body protested really hard. 

My illness became the starting point for my healing. It taught me. It taught me to value things that were important to me. It helped me analyze everything  with  a fresh perspective - relationships, work, what I truly wanted in my life.  It encouraged me to simplify my life, to let go of anything that caused negative energy for me.And it was not easy work. It was really tough infact. 

Why would I have a mid-life crisis I wondered? I was busy with work and home. I had loads of friends, I led an active social life and traveled plenty .I had a loving , indulgent spouse whose company I enjoyed.  I had everything one can ask for in life. 

I think these were the factors - 

• My 20s and 30s were spent taking care of kids and scheduling my day to meet the demands of my family. I selected times to exercise, to work , to socialize based on the schedules of my kids and husband. There were a million things to plan, organise and execute. I didn’t have breathing space. And then , as kids grew up, their demands on my time started to ease out. They did not need to be bathed, fed, their homework did not need to be supervised, they set up their playdates, and they wanted their own personal space. It opened up my time, and while that was exciting, there was a sense of my worthiness being reduced. As if I was not so wanted anymore. And when my younger one grew taller than me and I could not cuddle him anymore and fit his body into mine, my heart almost broke. I was not prepared for this. 

• There was a sense that I was losing time. I was already forty and had done none of the things I really wanted to. I wanted to write a book, go off on a holiday by my own and not be financially dependent on my husband. 

• I enjoyed (and still enjoy) the transition of my daughter into a young little girl. The way she dresses up, thinks, talks - I love it. And yet, there was a realisation that her youth was also paving the way for my growing older. The face that looked back in the mirror at me was not so young and fresh anymore . I could see wrinkles around my eyes. And my body refused to obey me. I was putting on weight, eating the same foods I always had. And even though I increased my exercise times and intensity, I was unable to lose weight. There was no defying gravity anymore. The physical changes horrified me.

• Life was going too smooth. So there had to be an upheaval!

I have seen the mid-life crisis manifest themselves in different ways for different people. Some quit high paying jobs to scratch an itch they have had for years. Yet others have full blown affairs with ex-flames or colleagues. Some take a long leave of absence from their families and go off on holidays on their own.Some divorce their spouses and seek a life for themselves. Others become obsessed with sex and porn. Yet others get tummy tucks and boob jobs to stem the relentless onslaught of age. Some drink more, some lose weight and yet others put on weight. 

And yet, these mid-life crisis years are not a lost cause. Since they throw you out of your comfort zone, they add to one’e personal (spiritual , emotional)  and professional growths. My crisis pushed me in the direction of what I wanted to do. To write. The more I hurt, the more angry I was ,the more I wrote. I wrote about things that hurt me, about things that mattered to me.  I wrote to ease the pain in my heart and the anguish of my soul. And writing was cathartic for me. It flushed out the bad, making space for the positive. And I ran - I had always wanted to run the Marathon and running became therapeutic for me. I did 4 half marathons in seven months. 

A friend of mine decided to make a movie, and even though she suffered from the angst of quitting a high paying job, she got her story and screenplay in order, and interned with one of the Bollywood directors to learn the ropes of the business - and is well on her way to her debut film. Yet another friend took to cooking - and has created a business of her own - creating delectable cakes and desserts. Another got a gastric bypass done to control her out-of-control weight gain and take charge of her life. A dear friend stepped out of the house after decades and got a job , that may not pay her much, but helps her maintain her sanity. Another friend trained hard and went to the Mount Everest base camp. 

When the mid life crisis blew over for me, there was immense gratitude that all was well in my world.  Almost all the people I know have had happy endings.  Even for the friend who walked out on her 15 year old marriage . If this phase made her realise that she could not carry on in a marriage that was without soul, then I think it was good for her. She has a chance to create another life for herself - one that will bring her happiness and hopefully love and companionship. 

The one thing that helped me get over this crazy phase is the incredible support I got from my girl friends. This was the bunch of women with whom I could  share what I was going through and who understood exactly how I felt. There was no judgement on my behavior, but counseling to make me feel better, to help me resolve issues. My girls did all they could to help me get out of my crisis. Some took me for chanting, others for coffee late at night, some ran with me, and those who were not in Mumbai were always a whatsapp or call away. I realised that there is great sisterhood among women. We all go through similar experiences at some point in our life so there is complete empathy. 

It may seem never ending but like all crises, the mid-life crisis passes over too. And when it does, we all need to do ourselves a big favor.  To not live in guilt because of whatever ‘wrongs’ we might have done. We are only human, and therefore have the right to make mistakes even at 40, have a right to question and seek a better life at 40. This phase screws our mind more than anyone else’s so we must reserve the right to forgive ourselves. 

I lived. My friends lived. And are in happier, more peaceful spaces today!!

Learning to Breathe

One of my oldest friends stopped by yesterday and remarked that I had not written a blog for months. And I told her that I had nothing to say. She looked at me strangely and commented,‘Really? I never thought I would see the day when you would have nothing to say!’

When did I become this? Since when did I have nothing to say? My kids call me a ‘social shut-in’  because I am not being social , not attending PTA meets or hooking up with other Moms to make friends in Scarsdale.  And my parents comment that I am working too hard at domestic chores and not attempting to get out there and get a job. And my best friend in Mumbai is terribly upset that I have become too distant - literally and figuratively. My friends worry that I am lonely, and/or the cold weather is getting me down.

I think  I am in a slow down mode. A sort of downtime really. I loved Mumbai - its energy, its pace . I went with the flow - and loved every moment of my stay in Mumbai. After all, in my whole life, I had never stayed in one place that long. Suddenly, I had around me an incredible number of great friends, colleagues and acquaintances. I had my siblings with me, and my kids were in the best school and doing fabulously.  I had a rocking life - great work, great friends, partying, socialising - everything you could want in a happy ,fulfilled life. 

I think the relentless pace got to me. Add to that the severe mid-life crisis that can hit anyone +/- 40 years and its accompanying insecurities and emotional upheavals. Looking back all the disasters hit me together - including the letting go of a dream job to chase another dream, the loss of a  dear friend, betrayal by some I considered my very own, and an illness in the family that rocked our very foundation .

The good thing about us humans is that when we are in a tough situation ,our energies are focussed on survival. Of getting through the day, of finishing a piece of work, of trying to bring some method to the madness. There is an unwillingness at that time to succumb to grief or let anxiety take you over. So when the phase is over, and life begins to brighten up, you suddenly think - OMG, that was the most horrible time of my life, and I survived!!

And now, so far away in Scarsdale, I feel I can finally breathe again. My family back home laughs everytime they Face Time with me and see me working , and my close pal calls me the Scarsdale Bai. But I enjoy it. The simple act of making tea, counting till 30 till my first flush tea brews to perfection. Of cooking a meal from scratch - cutting, chopping , frying and what not. Of doing the laundry and folding the clothes with ‘mindfulness’. Of dropping and picking up Praneet from the station. Of spending time with my kids, listening to their cultural experiences at the new school. 

For now - I am loving being alone. Going for long walks and discovering Scarsdale. Watching my favorite Game of Thrones with my breakfast. Writing. Reading. Sleeping early. Sleeping deep and long. I feel no pressure - of being well turned out, of having to make small talk, of being pulled in all directions, of my phone constantly pinging. No pressure to make friends, to keep in touch with anyone, to present a point of view or to get into a heated argument on any issue with anyone. 

Life has a way of giving you what you need. And I think this is what I had needed and not realised. A downtime to recharge myself ,my stretched patience and frazzled nerves. To slow down and pace myself out. To spend time with the people I love the most in the world. To finally be with myself. 

Knowing me , I possibly don’t have too much time in this phase . My hyperactive self will kick in soon enough. But for now I am content to be in this Slo Mo life. 

Happy Independence Day?

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As I read the various hoardings and pamphlets on ‘Freedom’ and ‘Independence’ , I am feeling a bit appalled this Independence Day. A sinking feeling that we are missing the boat completely. Wearing Indian colours , hoisting the national flag , singing the national anthem and eating tri-coloured mithai cannot be the symbols of a free India. 

I am constantly reminded of what Aatish Taseer wrote in the Stranger to History about Iran. While I don’t remember the exact words, an Iranian  told Aatish that they were naive in the 1970s. When they stood protesting against the Shah, they thought that was democracy - and never realised what they were losing. They lost their democracy, their freedom of protest and have lost themselves to the morality police and other regressive forces.

Thanks to the efforts of millions of us who want to cut corners and make a quick buck, or who want special privileges for being the educated class, we have unleashed havoc on our young democracy. We misuse the system through cronyism and only want to look after our, and our family’s interests - the rest of the world be damned. 

We have created an India we should be ashamed of handing over to our kids.

Even now, when the fruits of our labour are becoming evident - in the rapidly declining economy, in increased violence on the streets and against our women and children, the only way we are protesting is through Facebook or other social media. We continue to support corrupt political parties and politicians - shaking our heads and mumbling that things are out of our control. We continue to allow ourselves to get outraged over religion and caste - so it is little wonder that politicians use it to maximum potential. 

Even when we can stand up and help this country, we don’t. The latest case in point - the Uttarkhand disaster. The state is struggling in the aftermath of the natural disaster - but really, how many of us have contributed money or materials to start rehabilitation. The only chorus I hear is - the system is too corrupt and the money will not reach the victims - so there is no point. The truth is -all of us have all our limbs intact, and if our hearts were in the right place - we would have gone to Uttarkhand to provide support.

It is a piece of gossip how much money Robert Vadra has garnered, or how the politicians are twisting the system , but none of us are serious about bringing about change.

We claim pride in being Indians, but are silent spectators when the political parties come together to grant themselves more privileges, or take themselves out of the RTI. We remain silent when well meaning social activists are killed in broad daylight. We  know that the politicians control all land deals and big businesses through their set of family and friends , but none of us want to risk their wrath by taking out PILs. We all know the games being played out as the General Elections come up next year.

I think it is the Indian Middle Class, the hugely aspirational ,ambitious and upwardly mobile mass, that has let India down. As the educated class, it was our responsibility to bring change into the country - to be a strong voice that would drive policy and that would elect the right representatives for India. It was our responsibility to ensure that bureaucrats would run the administration. We let the country down.

Luckily for us, we still have a bunch of honest people who do their jobs well - without expectation of bribes and compensation. They withstand political pressure and arm twisting to do what is right - and those are the people who need to be saluted. And recognised. And applauded. 

If only we would join them, then singing the National Anthem would hold meaning. Then celebrating Independence Day would make sense. Then we may yet leave behind an India  our kids will thank us for.