Lament of The Yellow Metal

Times are bad for me. I am being seen as a temptress who goads all and sundry to part with their hard earned savings. The Finance Minister has declared an open war on me. He has asked the people to avoid or cut down on buying me. The RBI economists look down on me, through their thick nerdy spectacles, as a big drain on what they call 'record current account deficit' - a fancy term that simply means the country is importing way too much than what it exports.

Though it has happened due to a combination of factors, I am being seen as the sole villain. Nobody is asking why the fuel bill is so bloated and why the diesel component within it is swelling like the midriff of some of our netas. Or for that matter why the exports have fallen, what are our brick and mortar and software companies doing. Why our software companies despite enjoying so many tax holidays and other sops have not created a single world-class product like Facebook or Twitter. Why our bright youngsters who join software companies, after topping in their engineering exams, do nothing worthwhile other than make power point presentations, attend mind numbing conference calls and while away the rest of time near coffee machines discussing IPL and Karan Johar movies.

They often call me a dead investment. Really, what happened in 1991. It was me who saved the nation's honour. And I do that on a daily basis for Indian families, whether it is for daughter's marriage or son's foreign education. Chalo chhoddo, I don't want to go on like the wronged women of saas bahu serials.

I wish I had remained holed up in the humble pit in South Africa cocooned in dirt and dross. But then do we have a choice? The rapacious march of 'civilization' and technology will never let us be.

Once we get processed and enter the market, most of us end up in India. Its appetite for yellow metal defies all logic and cuts across all strata of society. I find it quite ironic that this country, with shocking poverty and malnutrition statistics, has acquired such a distinction.

After coming here I came to know that in this country the fascination for yellow metal even transcends all eras. During the Medieval period the tales about India's riches spread far a wide. For marauding raider kings such as Genghis Khan and Nadir Shah India was an El Dorado to be ransacked, whatever it takes.

For ordinary people I was seen as an instrument to be acquired as a hedge against rainy days and had to be zealously guarded against robbers and dacoits. There were no bank vaults then, hence when it came to safekeeping me, the ingenuity of Indian households was mind boggling.

During the licence permit raj days, when even toothpaste was considered a luxury, I became the darling of the underworld, as nobody could trade me legitimately, thanks to the prevailing laws. Everything happened in hush-hush manner and I used to be shipped in dhows mainly from Gulf countries and land in some shady godforsaken place; sometimes encounter hot chase from the police. People returning from Gulf countries used to smuggle me in by using the most hideously ingenious techniques. I often used to end up having a glimpse of the insides of their digestive and (hold your breath) excretory systems, while travelling to India. 

The liberalisation of the 1990s came as a whiff of fresh air and I could arrive in the country through legitimate channels and was traded in a far more straight forward way. But alas the so called liberalisation actually turned out to be crony capitalism and the nation seems to be paying the price for it now with floundering economy and falling rupee. On a personal note going by the Government's new found hostility towards me, I dread the day when the only route available for me to enter this country will be through smuggling.

Also Read: Bangalore Beat

Reduced To Ashes

The Ashes is winding to a close and one can be forgiven for thinking that this time England was playing Zimbabwe or Canada and not Australia. It was so easy for the hosts that they have pocketed the Ashes urn around mid-way of the series itself.

Barring the first test when things went down to a wire, thanks to some doughty batting by Australian tail-enders in both the innings, the Aussies hardly looked threatening. They had an upper hand in the third test but then the notorious English weather played spoilsport. So was the Decision Review System, which gave many controversial rulings, that too mostly against the Aussies.

But all this no way diminishes the fact that Aussies are a pale shadow of their former self. Their top and middle order looks badly depleted, though the bowling department looks a shade better and some of them have even adeptly wielded the willow during crunch times. Barely a couple of years ago they were the 21st century version of Donald Bradman's 'Invincibles'. Their nearly two decades of dominance of cricket, first under Steve Waugh and later under Ricky Ponting had made it look like the sun would never set over their rule.

However, the Aussies were not so endearing heroes, as their swagger and sledging turned many off. But even their harshest critics had to grudgingly acknowledge that the men in baggy green caps will always have the last laugh.

Hence, for the Aussies and their fans, the current slump in form and back-to-back losses at Ashes will be something they will find very hard to live down in near future. They are simply not used to these kind of reverses.

The generational change from Waugh to Ponting was smooth, but looks like a lot was lost in transition from Ponting to Clarke and, as it happens during lean phases, nothing seems to be going right. The country's steady stream of talent has run down to a trickle, both in terms of quantity and quality.  The current newcomers are finding it difficult to step into the shoes of their legendary predecessors like Shane Warne and Glenn McGrath. The retirement of Mike Hussey only revealed how acute the talent drought is.

On the coaching front too things were at a loose end. Mickey Arthur somehow could never keep the team as a cohesive unit. The near revolt by players during India tour exposed too many chinks and he seemed hardly in command.

Right now for the affable Michael Clarke the cup of woes is overflowing. Hope he does not throw in the towel and try to turn thing around - the Aussie way. 

Also Read: Bangalore Beat

Maximum Intolerance

The Shobhaa De tweet of Mumbai separating from Maharashtra has really touched a raw nerve among the Mumbai's political class, who have arrogated upon themselves what is best for 18.4 million denizens of the city. Hence there is no room for any dissenting opinion and whoever makes one should be bullied to silence. Leaders from parties, which are usually daggers drawn, showed one of those rare unison, all thanks to a socialite's 140-character remark.

The attacks were incessant and two pronged - firstly below the belt personal remarks and secondly downright sexist, with each one of them trying to outdo the other. Thank God De happens to be a Maharashtrian, otherwise that would have opened a much more virulent front. Going by the war of words it seemed as if a mere tweet and that too from a person who does not hold any public office, can lead to bifurcation of a state.

Those carrying out personal attacks invoked her visits to page 3 parties and getting drunk; her divorce and of course calling her a 'bai'. There were others openly intimidating her to say the same on the streets of Mumbai and threatening to make her lose her 'shoba'. The hapless people of maximum city would have appreciated if the Congressman (who made this statement) had shown the same zeal to restore the 'shoba' of Mumbai's streets, decimated by potholes. Or done something to reduce the abysmal toilet to persons ratio in slum areas of the city.

Even Maharashtra chief minister Prithviraj Chavan, who to his credit was prompt enough to ensure security to De, was expedient enough to be on the right side of political spectrum by denouncing her tweet as 'frivolous' and 'assured' that the city won't be separated from Maharashtra.

For the political class Facebook and Twitter is quite unsettling as 'plebeians' are freely expressing their opinions, notably dissent, and reaching out to like-minded ones. Earlier there was hardly any such outlet (a very limited one was 'letters to the editor' in newspapers). They would like the public to troop to polling booths every every five years and then shut up.

To the credit of De, unlike some of other Mumbai intellectuals, she has so far soldiered on and neither showed any remorse, nor taken back her statement.

Also Read: Bangalore Beat