The Survivor

I am hanging on to dear life with all the strength that I possess. The last few years have been filled with total uncertainity, a day survived is a day added to my life which if my memory serves me right will be touching 29 shortly. Most of you would think that I am young, in the prime of youth and ready to face any challenge and overcome it with panache. Well things are not like that in my case for I do not belong to the human race where longevity now touches 90 without much effort.

The first 10 years of my life was a total cake walk. I just stood still like a sentinel but for the occasional touch from a visitor. Those days even getting to move me was difficult for not many outsiders knew the secret of handling me. It served me well for I had to only answer to Narayani’s or Dominic’s command and both of them being my pals it was always a pleasure. Then came the year 1995 and with that things started taking a mega turn. I began being handled by more people all of whom were experts when it came to getting me to move. Till then my movements were always inward but now I had to do both the in and outward moves and this at times was not in the best of my interest. But then who am I to complain for I know where I stand in the priority list.

My sedentary life was shaken when a decision was taken to alter my looks. It was decided that I need to look more regal and thus some enhancements were made to me. I have earlier had makeovers with colour and brush but that was always comforting and I used to like the way I smelled immediately after that. But getting into an operation mode was not my idea of beautification. But then as I said earlier, do I have a voice?? And thus men came with equipments and I was fixed with some attachments which I totally loathed. As a result of a brainwave, it was decided that a bit of gold would add to my beauty. Here I am a simpleton and gold was a colour I detested, but there was nothing I could do. Luckily for me, God heard my prayers and the gold was taken away almost immediately. How I heaved a sigh of relief. The last thing I wanted to look was like a Christmas tree. Things moved on quietly, until plans were made to shift me. At this point I thought it was sure death, for this was something totally unheard off. But then I survived and though it was an Herculean task, I was moved a couple of feet forward to make more room for newer and bigger objects.  Although this bothered me a lot, the saving grace was that I was given a roof over my head. Until then I was exposed to the elements and rain or shine made no difference to me.

Life went on in my new surroundings for some time before new changes were thought off.  I could hear talks about how immodest  I was and that it was time to rectify that problem. This I thought was going to be the end of me but luckily it was not to be for I was only covered with enough material and this time they made sure that the colour suited me well. After this mega makeover,  I had begun to think that things would be fine and that I had a permanent place in the scheme of things. But then that was not to be and I realised this when measuring tapes were brought out and the length and breadth of various spaces and objects measured. Within me the panic button was pressed. I thought to myself, here they go again and I wonder what plans they have for me? The moment I lay my eyes on Mr. Sampath, I always wonder if I will be his victim, for he has a terrible weakness for me and is so concerned about my appearance. This time the modifications took the longest but somehow  I wouldn’t call it beautification for whatever was done added to my utitlity value. The end result has made me so unique that I am sure that I am one of a kind. My value has appreciated and I have been the object of demonstration with regard to my uses. The good thing about this is that I have become complicated  and handling me is an art which only a hand full have mastered. This definitely suits me fine.

Now I am sure most of you will understand my concerns. Who wouldn’t feel petrified in my situation? My worry is two pronged, one is ofcourse all the changes that have happened to me and the other is the constant modifications to Sowparnika which have resulted in tons of debris being thrown out. When precious marble and granite have seen the dump, here am I just made of iron.

I am grateful to still be around and I consider myself a great survivor. I can’t take any credit for if I am around, I owe it all to Kumar. With the years my look has changed from being sleek, I have a girth which I must say I am not proud off.

So another precious day is coming to an end and in couple of hours I am off to sleep with the same Yale lock that has guarded me for the last 29 years. Tomorrow is another day and as always it should start at 5.20a.m. with Dominic bringing the milk.

An Unsung Gem

 Madras Medical College was her Alma Mater, Harrington Road, Chetpet her playground and the whole of India and South East Asia her stage. Born in 1914 to affluent parents, one of whom was an eminent freedom fighter, it was but inevitable that she grew up holding aloft the twin virtues of freedom and independence. This could be the reason why she endeared herself to the Indian National Army of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose. She was made a Minister in the Azad Hind Government and was asked to form and head the Rani of Jhansi Regiment. Thus in 1943 at the height of the Second World War, with aplomb she led from Singapore a group of over 1000 women into battle against the British Army. She was captured near Imphal and put under arrest in Burma. As a woman of modern India, the prerogative to lead a regiment into battle has been hers and hers alone. How can it be otherwise, for it is said that she was Christened Lakshmi, after the valiant Rani Lakshmi Bai.

As a medical practitioner, Captain Lakshmi must have felt the pulse of thousands of her patients; however what is equally important is that she was there to feel the pulse and do her best during all the upheavals and catastrophes that befell India - Be it the partition, the Bangladesh War, the anti-Sikh riots, Bhopal Tragedy or the Gujarat Earthquake. She truly believed that women are the strength of any society and worked relentlessly for their empowerment. An Egalitarian society being her dream, she was easily approachable to the poorest of the poor and it is said that she had the ability to instill a sense of joy and possibility in all who met her. Being selfless, she never believed in accolades, nevertheless it was with utmost humility that she received The Padma Vibushan. Her brush with Politics saw her as a member of theRajya Sabha and as a Presidential Candidate. This Kohinoor is not in our midst having breathed her last in July this year.  Even in death she had the last word for she had donated her eyes and given her body for medical research.

Endowed with immense beauty and intelligence and passionately driven by social causes, Dr. Lakshmi Sehgal is indeed the Ratna that Bharat especially Chennai can eternally be proud off.

Liquor's Paradise

Today is the Malayalam star of Atham and the countdown to Onam has begun. Ten days from today will be the Onam festival which falls on the Malayalam star of Thiruonam in the month of Chingam. This festival is the highlight of life in Kerala as it is celebrated by all irrespective of class and creed. The flower carpet that greets one at the doorstep of all homes is laid out from this morning and reaches a crescendo as far as size and intricacy go by the tenth day. The preparation for Onam including the flower carpet, new clothes, kaikottikalli and the cuisine for all the days is something that has to be worked out in advance and gives so much of joy to all concerned. However the intention of this article is not to point out the highlights of the festival but to bring to attention of the reader another aspect of Onam, which is not so pleasant to read or to hear especially if you are a Malayali and a Marunaadan (someone who does not live in Kerala) Malayali at that.
To add to the already vibrant mood of the Malayali male during this festival is the intake of alcohol. It is but common all over the world to toast any celebration with alcohol; however to a Malayali the consumption of the same seems to be the main focus. I am forced to say this because records how shown thus. How can we otherwise justify the sales of alcohol during the Onam season in the year 2010? It is said that the sales reached a whopping 235 crores of rupees in that single week. Thus securing the first place as a revenue earner and surpassing the revenue from petrol and diesel!! Well one way of looking at it could be that alcohol is to the Malayali male what petrol and diesel are to the motor vehicles. Both in a way provide fuel, except that one can easily be done without. I wonder as to what records are going to be broken this coming season??
As a child when we used to travel by car from Chennai to Calicut, just on crossing the border at Walayar, there would be a vivid change in the landscape and in the midst of the lush green would stand out little huts which had large handwritten boards pronouncing Toddy/Arrack. The board would be both in Malayalam and Tamil. Since Tamilnadu was a dry state where there was prohibition, it was common for people to cross over and either become tipplers or turn bootleggers. I cannot remember the IMFL shops, but I am sure there must have been more than one in every hamlet. It is indeed upsetting to note that nothing has changed in the intervening decades. Instead there has been a progressive degradation with every passing year.
A stage has reached when the word SHOP or SHAAP has only one meaning. If Communism flourishes in Kerala, it can be seen in its true form outside a Liquor Shop. Here the rich and the poor and the old and the young are all equal and are ready to stand in a perfect queue and wait their turn. There is no chaos like what prevails in a bus stop or a train station or a movie theatre. The camaraderie is so perfect that if someone is in a hurry, he is allowed to cut the queue and make his purchase. It is said that on the day before a hartal or bandh the queue at the Liquor shop is so serpentine that it can easily be more than a 500 metres long. I wonder if the State provides as part of their Onam markets which cater to clothes and provisions, a separate market for Liquor. Otherwise how on earth can it be possible for liquor of this amount to be sold from the existing shops? It is mind boggling that a state with a population of 31 million of which anywhere between 5-10 million may form the targeted group can consume this quantity of alcohol.
Wonder as to what forms the basis of this trend. I think one of the main reasons could be the availability of easy money. With lack of industries, thanks to the prevalent policies, most of the youth are without any commendable jobs. At the same time most of the families have bread winners in the Gulf States who remit diligently substantial amounts to their families in the State. With peer pressure mounting, mothers are forced to hand out the hard earned money to their sons, who think nothing about squandering the same at the SHAAP. Depending on the financial position the visit can be to a Toddy or Arrack parlour (the modern parlance for a shop) or to an IMFL bar or can just be a purchase from the shop to be had at home. Liquor has taken such a centre stage when it comes to the social fabric that any small happening calls for the opening of a bottle. This is so truly reflected in the Malayalam Films where it is hard to come across a movie which does not involve at least a couple of scenes without the bottle. How can it be otherwise, for in the recent past the film industry has lost to the bottle so many talented actors, musicians and lyricists who had in them so many more years of genius left. The scene is so sad and I wonder as to what the remedy if there is one could be.
The shady offshoot of the liquor industry is the illegal brewing which is ever so rampant. In connivance with corrupt tax officials this industry thrives. It is only when there is a hooch tragedy that the Government opens its eyes to close them again in no time. Alcohol seems to be a curse which has permeated into all strata of society. As long as the treasury is filling, I wonder if the State would ever bother to curb the menace. It is after all Liquor that is spinning Kerala its Gold.
I wonder as to what the figures would be at the end of this Onam season. I am sure it will break the ceiling set last year and set yet another unbelievable record. If Kerala is GOD’S OWN COUNTRY, then it has also sadly earned the sobriquet as LIQUOR’S PARADISE

Reduce, Reuse and Recycle

The following is an article I wrote for a Newsletter on Plastic Free India.

Plastic is derived from the Greek word plastos which means something that can be shaped or molded into any form as is deemed necessary. Possessing such a great property, Plastic has certainly been put to use in far too many industries and to list them in itself would be time and space consuming. The way in which plastic has permeated and percolated into our daily lives, it would indeed be extremely difficult to shake ourselves away from it. This being the case, the possibility of a Plastic Free India is just a Utopian thought, something which is soothing to hear and to dream about but absolutely impossible to achieve. My understanding of a Plastic Free India would be an India where we try our best to stop the use of those plastics which are disposed off after a single use. Having said that, it would be indeed difficult to use a disposable syringe over and over again and the same would hold true for all the single use plastic products that are used in an operation theatre.
As a lay person I can think of two products that we can cease to use. By doing so we would indeed be helping our environment and making our city a better place to live in. These are the widely used ultra thin plastic shopping bags and the even more widely used packaged drinking water bottles. Coming to think of it, the use of these two products in India began around thirty years ago. The bags were considered the in thing and right from the big departmental stores to the small corner shop to the street vendors took to it like fish to water. It was considered chic and easy to carry and thus the age old cloth shopping bags were relegated to the back or totally forgotten. The fall out of this idiocy combined with the poor literacy rate helped create a catastrophe. Thus we used the thin bags and threw them into our trash which was then collected and thrown into dumps were they have been lying for the last thirty years. Had the plastic been biodegradable, with the help of the sun, most of it may have broken down and mixed with the soil. The same holds true for the packaged water bottle, which when it was first introduced was considered fashionable. I guess we have ourselves to blame, for if we had taken care to see that our water bodies were safe and if we were able to provide good drinking water to the masses, the question of a packaged water industry would never ever have risen. Now to make matters worse, the poor disposal of plastic has led to the clogging of most of the smaller streams and canals. Thus we can take a pledge that we would go back to our cloth bags and glass/steel water bottles.
A Plastic Free India would be one in which we are bereft of most things that we are used to and take for granted. Having reached the second decade of the 21st Century, are we ready to go back to that era of the 19th Century when plastic was not discovered?? As I mentioned earlier, let us be practical and let us do everything to lessen its usage and to learn to make do without it wherever possible. As citizens of this country, let our mantra be to REDUCE, REUSE AND RECYCLE.

Guardian Angel

Kristina Roxanne D’Costa: Born on 23rd Sept 1991 and Died on 13th July 2011.
The above information is definitely hard to believe for anyone who has had an opportunity to meet Roxanne in the 19 plus years that she had inhabited planet Earth. Tall and lissome with no handicap of any sort, who would think that death would steal this wonderful creation so early.
I have known Roxanne from the time of her birth. For that matter I have known the family including her parents, grandparents and great grandparents for a very long time. As far as the D’Costas go, longevity is something they possess. I have seen Roxanne take her first steps and I have seen Roxanne go to school. I have seen her graduate from her nursery school uniform to her elementary and middle school uniform and finally to her high school uniform. I have seen her grow up to be a fine girl, well mannered, respectful and possessing all those bygone qualities which the youth of today seem to have otherwise forgotten. Roxanne’s long hair was the envy of all and as for her height; it was something most girls would crave for her. I remember having mentioned to her grand dad as to what a fine model she would make.
Although Roxanne did not live nearby, by virtue of her grandparents being my neighbours, it was but inevitable that I would see her off and on. There were periods of her life when she stayed with her grandparents as going to school was much easier from here. Being the eldest grandchild, she was the apple of their eye and they doted on her more than what any grandparent would do. Her grand dad being a regular visitor to my house, I was always in the knowhow of all the major events in her life. When we heard that she had graduated from school and had joined Stella Maris College for her under graduation, we were elated. Here was a girl who had overcome her Dyslexia and had found her moorings and was getting ready to enter the real world. By virtue of being involved with an institute that promotes aviation related non technical courses, I visit colleges to promote the institute. Thus I have had the opportunity to go to Roxanne’s college and department on more than one occasion and was indeed happy to note that the shy girl had blossomed into a fine young lady. The warmth with which she greeted me on those occasions is ever so vivid in my mind and the hospitality that she extended was unforgettable. To her it seemed as if I was a guest to her college and that I should be looked after well. I was happy to note that she had evolved to become a leader among her friends and she seemed to be in control of things. I remember mentioning these anecdotes to her grand dad, who I am sure, must have been extremely happy to hear the same.
Thus on the 12th of July 2011, when Uncle Bobby (Roxanne’s Granddad) came home almost a lost man, the last thing that crossed our mind was Roxanne. Being a very emotional person, we thought that something minor was bothering him and that he had come over for some encouraging words from my Dad who is a GURU to him. When he mentioned the graveness of the situation, we found it so hard to believe. How can Roxanne be so ill? I had seen her just the previous Friday when she was visiting her grandparents. She looked fine to me although she had lost some weight due to the jaundice that she had contracted in May. Uncle Bobby mentioned that she was in the ICU and that the doctors had pronounced her condition to be extremely serious. We kept tab of the situation and heard at different intervals that her condition was caused by different illnesses. What started off as meningitis-the dreaded brain fever, soon became leptospirosis an equally if not more lethal condition. Thus we prayed for her well being and hoped that a miracle would occur. By Wednesday morning, the doctors at the hospital had washed their hands off. The parents were told that Roxanne could be taken home as there was only so much that can be done. Anyway, when the doors were shut at one of the hospitals, Roxanne was rushed to another for further treatment. Anyway to cut a long story short, Roxanne had a massive cardiac arrest and was declared dead around 7.30pm on Wednesday.
We rushed across to console the grandparents, who were shattered. Young Peter her only sibling had not got the impact of the situation. The next day when I went to meet her Mom, she was speechless but at the same time I felt that the truth had not sunk in. This morning was the funeral and the body was brought to the grandparents place. All efforts were made by the family to give her a grand funeral. But the atmosphere was so very sombre. There was not a single soul with dry eyes. How can anyone reconcile to this untimely death? My heart bled for the family and for her friends some of whom were so uncontrollable in their sorrow. Although the religious service served as a balm to the congregation, the reality was something totally different. I stood by and watched with sadness the whole scene. When the casket was lowered and nailed a chapter had ended. It was not easy for me to sprinkle dust on the casket, but I did so like those around me.
On my drive back home and ever since I returned, I had a hundred questions for which I fervently needed an answer. I grew up imbibing the fact that everything in life has a purpose. If that be the case what was the purpose of Roxanne’s life. Nineteen is an age when you get to know your responsibilities and when you start planning for the future. To take away a life at that age is definitely so unthinkable. The instant reply to this question would be that God takes away those whom he loves the most. I guess, I am not so practical in my thinking and hence to accept this as an answer would be far too difficult for me. Being devout Christians, Roxanne’s family may on the face of it accept this situation. However how can a mother or father forget their teenage daughter who just disappeared from their midst without any rhyme or reason. I would also like to pose the question to the medical fraternity that treated her. Do they have an answer for her demise? I am sure they are as much in the dark as the rest of us. Of one thing I am sure and that is that my mind will continue to search for a convincing answer.
In the meantime I pray to the Almighty to give the D’Costas all the strength to cope with this bereavement. In a family where every death in the past has been a celebration of a life well lived, this may indeed be hard. I would like to believe that Roxanne would always be their Guardian Angel.

The Season

The only sad note I have while talking about my city is its weather. With a round the year minimum of 20 degrees Celsius and a maximum of 45 degrees Celsius the only seasons that we experience are hot, hotter and hottest. But then I am not an Englishman and hence the topic of the weather is not the uppermost in my mind. Invariably the Chennai weather and its lack of Geographical seasons (read winter) is what holds many outsiders including multi nationals from making Chennai their home. There has been a change to this in the last couple of decades as Chennai has begun experiencing a wonderful Season even without bringing about any change in its weather. This is a Season so unique to Chennai and of which no other city or country in the world can ever boast off. A Season which came into being as a result of the ingenuity of the Chennaiite, a Season so totally man made. Yes it is the Music and Dance Season that I am talking about. Being just around the corner, I thought it only right to pay my obsequious to this grand celebration.
This Music Season which was restricted to the month of Margazhi in the Tamil Almanac (December 15th to January 14th) has slowly but surely spread and now includes Karthikai (November 15th to December 14th) and Thai (January 15th to February 14th). As one is well aware, Chennai/Tamilnadu is the home to the much acclaimed Carnatic music which has its origin during the Vedic period and has evolved ever since and of the much acclaimed and revered and the oldest of Indian traditional dance forms namely the Bharatanatyam. With this high intensity of performing arts prevalent in one place and all of which proclaim obeisance to the Almighty, it was inevitable that it became an establishment or to put it otherwise Chennai had to become the Mecca for these two outstanding art forms and the pilgrimage by the followers was bound to happen. The time chosen for this pilgrimage is again perfect for it coincides with that period when the weather is pleasant and experiences some coolness in the air. The time is also perfect for the ladies to display their gorgeous Kanchivarams and showcase their finest Jewellery. It is indeed a joy to be at any of the kutcheries (musical recitals) for apart from enjoying the performance, the well turned out ladies are indeed a wonderful treat to the eyes.
I was trying to recollect the Margazhi of my childhood/youth and this is what I could remember. Having lived in a Brahmin neighbourhood, the arrival of Margazhi never went unnoticed. The kollams (rice flour designs) that decorated the threshold of homes were wonderfully elaborate and there would always be music in the air. The Thiruppavai (hymns written by Alwar (saint) Andal in praise of Lord Krishna) was rendered by groups of ladies/girls as was done during Andal’s time. The local Vaishnavite temples would be buzzing with activity all revolved around Andal. If there was no deity Andal, then a photo would take its place and this would be adorned with garlands and jewellery. It was even customary for young girls to have the Andal hairstyle and to dress in their Sunday’s best. There was festivity in the air; however the visibility was very low. Andal, Thiruppavai and the elaborate kollams did not make its mark on the masses as the awareness of marketing was virtually absent. The Sabhas were only a handful and during Margazhi held kutcheries where in all the stalwarts and the other upcoming artists participated.
That the festival has taken a humungous form is indeed a fact. Not able to contain it within the 30 days of Margazhi, it has spread in both directions. Every body who has it in them to host a festival, conducts one and the artists who take part come from all corners of the country and the world. The pre and post Margazhi festivals are not just restricted to Carnatic Music and Bharatanatyam for they include other forms belonging to these two genres. Thus the highly informed enthusiasts of Chennai are exposed to all of the best in music and dance that the world can offer. The performers consider it a privilege to be part of The Season and hence never miss an opportunity. Only a wizard/genius can make it to the top slot in the first season itself. The slot system thus becomes an unofficial marker as far as the popularity/recognition of an artist is concerned. It goes without saying that the top artists are in great demand and during a Season most of them perform every other day. It is also a God sent opportunity for the female artistes to showcase their saris and jewellery and indirectly or is it directly become the brand ambassadors for the leading retail sari showrooms.
The Season has also become a platform for corporates to proclaim their cultural awareness for attached to each of the Sabhas is a host of wealthy sponsors. With the visibility increasing, The Season has burgeoned and with it, its economics too. The Season has become the focal point for those in the Indian Diaspora with an interest in Carnatic Music and Bharatanatyam to plan their trip to Chennai. With most of the artists having performed abroad, they have among their followers loads of foreigners too. I was surprised when I heard a foreigner say that she was in India to trail artist “X” through her various performances during The Season. This heavy influx is an excellent source of income to the hospitality industry and to all the varied retail businesses in the city. Another business that runs well in the Sabhas is the canteen. It is considered a fashion to eat the mouth drooling snacks and Tiffin offered in the canteens and to top the fares with the much acclaimed filter coffee.
Here is a Novel Season of which we can truly be proud off. The Season is a perfect example of how the blend of private enterprise (The Sabhas) and the Government can bring about a success story. The Government conducts the Dance Festival at Mahabalipuram a venue so revered. The open air concerts with the 11th century rock carvings of “Arjuna’s Penance” as a backdrop is indeed very popular. In the last two years the city has been witness to yet another initiative of the Government and this is the Chennai Sangamam where the various folk dances and music are performed on the streets. This truly gives the feel of a mela, a mela (fair) in which the whole city is involved. An added incentive to the Sangamam is the availability of traditional Tamizh food prepared by Five Star Chefs and served at various localities. The Season is on its way and in the next three months one would be enveloped by Music and Dance. The goodness about The Season is that Chennaiites have the prerogative of ending the current year on a high note only to welcome the New Year on a higher one.
P.S. The Temple Tower on the Tamil Nadu Government Emblem is of the temple in Srivilliputtur, a temple devoted to Alwar Andal. Thus it was only a matter of time before The Season was established.

A Dream

I dreamt of “The Beast” parked in front of my house on Sivaganga Road. I guess that it is a far fetched dream but then dreams are just meant to be far fetched and with the current happenings, it is something that can definitely turn into reality. What prompted this dream could well be the just concluded trip of the Obamas to India and all the hype and fervor that went with it. Ever since the highest office in the world was open to an African American, I have been day dreaming of situations when the above could happen.
I have, by virtue of the curriculum in my school, been fed with American History from the young age of 13 and hence can proudly say that I know pretty well of the early happenings in that country. Right from the Pilgrim Fathers to the Thirteen Colonies to the War of Independence including the Boston Tea Party, to the Three Westward Expansions including the California Gold Rush to the Louisiana Purchase to the Civil War to the abolition of slavery to the modern day America, every wee bit is imprinted in my mind. George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton, Andrew Jackson, Abraham Lincoln and much later Woodrow Wilson, Theodore Roosevelt and of course John Fitzgerald Kennedy were the towering personalities of that history and their achievements were studied and recorded in my memory. The names of the latter year Presidents too have been etched in my mind, for how can any citizen of the world not know the name of the President of the USA? Whether these said humans had a direct impact on one’s life or not, they had to be known, for to put it simply, their position made them the most powerful human being in the world.
It goes without saying that the Presidency of the United States of America is the most coveted post and it really did not matter if the incumbent belonged either to the Republican or Democratic Party. Thus this is a position that any American with good leadership quality would like to hold and can aspire for. The official written eligibility to become the President of the United States is just three and these are: 1. Be a natural born citizen of the United States, 2. Be at least thirty five years old and 3. Should have been a permanent resident of the United States for at least fourteen years. As can be seen the clauses are simple and one by which any citizen can aspire for the post, provided he or she gets elected to the same. However the unwritten rules are far too many for in the 233 years that the USA has been an independent country, 43 of the 44 Presidents have all belonged to one particular race. The first and only exception is the present incumbent. With the US being called the land of the immigrants, what is it that makes the race of the 43 Presidents superior to the scores of other races which too have a significant presence in the country? It is said that there are more Jews in New York than the whole of the State of Israel and the same holds true for many other sects of the world. However none of the people from these innumerable races or religious groups have been able to break the barrier until the 4th of November 2008 when Barack Obama with his grit and determination and plenty of charisma and oratorical skills broke the shackles and moved ahead.
Does this mean that the era of the WASPS has ended? I am not sure as to how many of you know what the acronym WASP stands for. WASP means WHITE ANGLO SAXON PROTESTANT. In the history of the USA, 43 Presidents have ruled the country for 231 years and all of them were WASPS with the exception of Kennedy who was a White Anglo Saxon but instead of being a Protestant was a Catholic. So powerful has been the domination of WASPS that breaking their impregnable barrier was nothing less than a miracle. It is a fact that the WASPS were the first settlers in the New Land and that it was them who gave the Thirteen Colonies its due importance. This to an extent made them the natural rulers in the early days. The WASPS brought with them their knowledge and know how and thus gained supremacy over the Native Americans who were the original inhabitants. It was this supremacy that they held on to very tightly and never wanted to relinquish. It seemed as if there was an unwritten pact among them that whichever party they belonged, they will keep the power to themselves. What boggles me is the fact that the other races who are present in very large numbers and who could have tilted the electoral balance, just did not even consider putting up a fight. President Barack Obama by his winning has definitely opened new vistas to the multitudes of youngsters from the other races, who can now dream of becoming the most powerful man in the world provided they meet up with the three written criteria.
Here is where my personal interests come to the fore. I have two nieces and one nephew living in the US. Two of them are teenagers and the third is just nine years of age. The two teenagers are showing wonderful leadership qualities and it seems as if nothing can stop them from achieving their goals. The oldest is my niece Preetha and she has done us proud by gaining admission to Harvard where she will be taking up her under graduation in Anthropology. Although she is planning to become a doctor like her parents, I have told her that having got into the Hallowed Institution that is Harvard, she has to think beyond medicine and look at all the doors that would open for her in the corridors of power. The Oval Office will be beyond her reach for among the three clauses, she does not fulfill the first one for she was born in Manchester, United Kingdom. The next in line is my nephew Krishnan; he is extremely intelligent with the best academic records. His interests and involvement in all extra curricular activities is immense and his leanings to philanthropy are way beyond his age. Being his aunt, I may sound biased but believe me when I say that he has all the qualities of an intelligent and capable leader. By virtue of being born in the USA he would qualify in the next 20 years when he will turn 35, the prerequisite age to stand for the office of the President.
I see nothing wrong in dreaming of my Krishnan in the Oval Office. The next time when I meet him, I will have to find out if he too is dreaming the same dream. And if he is, translating the same to reality would definitely be a Herculean task, but knowing Krishnan, I am sure with his meticulous planning and execution, he can achieve the same. By becoming the President of USA, what President Barack Obama has done apart from laying bare the three clauses was to open the flood gates for the thousands of aspirants who are not WASPS.
Will November 4th 2032 turn out to be the GOLDEN LETTERED DAY for the family!!