Sunday 16 October 2011

Unspooling of Memories

This viral post on Facebook unspooled my vague memories of seeing a cassette tape recorder for the first time. It was at one of our neighbour's house back in early 70s. Mind you this was the high noon of licence-permit raj in India, when even a radio required licence and one had to queue at post offices to pay the fee.
 

It was a Japanese-made National Panasonic (it was known so back then) portable cassette tape recorder – a horizontal contraption with piano like keys with the 'record' key blue in colour and rest of them in white. Back then it was a prized possession, akin to i-Phone these days. Strict 'be Indian, buy Indian' customs laws ensured a halo of remoteness to these 'phoren' offerings. Those found in the Indian shop shelves were unreliable desi  offerings like Weston or equally dubious fakes of Japanese and German brands, which smooth talking salesmen tried to palm off to gullible customers. 
 

The era of unwieldy record players was winding down to a close and handy portable cassette recorders were making inroads to the world of music lovers. The fastidious care that records and the record players' needle demanded hastened its journey to oblivion. The jokes surrounding the needle getting stuck and song lines getting repeated were numerous. Moreover records could not be 'erased' with newer chartbusters and hence proved quite pricey.
 

An added plus over the record players was the capacity of tape recorders to record one's voice. Though I must confess that, after much coaxing by others, I dared to do it only once!
 

As for cassettes, customs laws played spoilsport yet again and good brands like Sony, Hitachi etc were beyond aam aadmi's reach and he had to rest content with questionable offerings.
 

The result was that quite often these cassettes used to get stuck with the tape getting entangled in the playback head. It had to be removed with extra care and had to be spooled back into the cassette using a pencil.
 

The advent of Gulf boom created a great leap of aspiration for hi-tech Japanese electronic goods among middle class in India and Dubai turned out to be a procurement hub, thanks to its relaxed customs laws.
The 'two-in-one' stereo cassette player became the ultimate instrument for musical nirvana among the middle class. The greater the output of the set the more admired it was, something akin to bike enthusiasts' obsession with 'cc'. In many of the drawing room family photographs taken in that era, the stereo cassette player used to be an unwitting presence.
 

However the customs laws ensured that those trying to bring in these goods had a harrowing time on landing in Indian shores. It also encouraged smuggling and spawned a grey market for these goods. The situation eased up only after the Indian economy got liberalised and global brands like Sony, Samsung started setting up plants in the country.
 

The coming of VCRs and the proliferation of TV stations in India did dent the demand for stereo cassette players and they soon got relegated to background. The idiot box became the new cynosure of middle class vanity and they lapped up TV serials and filmy offerings like 'chitrahaar' with gusto.
 

The ultimate death knell to cassette players came with the advent of CD players. The boxy, spooly offering soon became un-cool compared with a sleek teacup coaster sized discs. The superior quality of sound and greater longevity were added features.
 

But for me, the pull of the cassette is so strong that even now during conversations I often mistakenly utter 'cassette', while I actually mean a CD.

Wednesday 12 October 2011

Arab Sheikhs Can Learn a Lot From Our Netas

The turmoil in West Asia may be giving sleepless nights to Arab sheikhs, emirs and military rulers of those regions. The fear of losing power to forces of democracy and being called to explain for their centuries-old debauchery is real. 

But if they care to have a look at the body politic of world’s largest democracy, they would realize that much of their perceived losses (my apology to 2G scam) are either short term or totally unfounded.

For the rulers who are terminally narcissistic (I am sure for most emirs and sheikhs it is their second nature) a trip to Lucknow would be very reassuring. There the omnipresent statues of our elected (and that too with thumping majority) ‘behenji’ would make them realize that democracy after all is not that harsh on narcissists and megalomaniacs.

Those enamoured with power but too lazy or intimidated to take up responsibilities, a visit to our first family - the Gandhis - would be quite enlightening. They can see for themselves how power without accountability works. If anything goes right the family takes the credit and if anything goes wrong – well then there are fall guys dime a dozen.

As for learning how dynastic or family rule works in a democracy they would be spoilt for choices. The phenomenon has been so rampant and decentralized that every party, every state and every panchayat could provide them with very insightful lessons about the various facets of this phenomenon. 

Those who fear that erstwhile monarchs cannot stand a chance in electoral politics, a visit to the Scindia family in Gwalior would be an eye-opener. They would realize that way to democracy from monarchy is but a seamless small step.

In case they lose power and loath to dirty their feet in rough and tumble of politics they can take lessons from Nira Radia about a more quieter but enterprising and equally lucrative pursuit like lobbying.

If these monarchs think that democracy means an end to their wild criminal ways, then , a visit to our Parliament and meeting some of the ‘lawmakers’ with criminal records would put them at ease. They would realize that chances of prosecution in a democracy is as elusive as finding polar bear in Saudi Arabia! 

The bottom line is that if they play their cards well and persevere they would be surprised to know that even in democracies they need not take sanyas from their kingsize lives.

Rise and Fall of Contessa

Hi, remember me? These days you would see me mostly in the scrap yards or 'rusting' in peace in some god forsaken places. But I wish to tell everyone, especially the Smartphone generation, that I had seen much better days in the past.

I hit the road sometime around 1982 when my older cousin Amby (Ambassador) had already ruled the Indian roads for three decades. My sleek looks and plush interiors came as a whiff of fresh air among the Indian public, grown tired of  ‘bowler hat’ Amby, cramped Premier and Standard.

For the Indian consumer this was some sort of a great leap forward in terms of  aspiration. Over  the preceding three decades he just had Amby, Premier and Standard to choose from and the car makers literally took him for a ride by introducing new 'models' with changes that were at best cosmetic - most notably the front grille.

The only noteworthy competitor back then was Standard 2000 modeled on Rover SD1 but that was for a short while as it ran into some licensing issues with Rover and faded away by 1987. On the other hand I soon grew more muscle, powered by an 1.8 L Isuzu engine, and acquired a suffix 'Classic' to my name.

The eighties was a smooth ride for me and I soon became some sort of a status symbol. The political and bureaucratic class courted me over my jaded cousin Amby and the nouveau riche, spawned by the liberalising Indian economy, coveted me to show off that they have 'arrived'.

I had become an undisputed king in the 1000 plus cc segment (there were no A, B segments back then) and the diesel version in 1990 only strengthened my grip. 

Meanwhile, Maruti-Suzuki was busy eliminating competition in the small car segment with its Maruti 800. I still vaguely remember the catch line in print ads about me back then 'A limousine that refused to join the rat race' (or words to that effect).  A dig at the Maruti's diminutive offering.

I hit the first speed bump when Maruti 1000 came along in 1990, however since it was overpriced and underpowered, my makers hardly saw it as a concern. But the wily Maruti refused to give up and in 1994 came up with a more powerful and upgraded Esteem and sales graph of my petrol version took a gentle dip.

But even this failed to wake up my engineers and soon we paid dearly as GM, Ford, Fiat, Tata and Hyundai came calling with more contemporary and sleeker models. My arch rival Maruti Esteem soon became the big daddy of the mid size segment, thanks to its first mover advantage and extensive service network.

I got phased out in 2002 owing to stiff competition and my cousin Amby too suffered badly due to it.

However it is heartening to know that I still have a handful of admirers who see me as the first Indian muscle car - reminiscent of the American muscle cars of 1960s and '70s.