10 August 2005 - A day I wont forget for some time yet. The day started off early. First up was a meeting - my last MCA meeting. I give away certificates and gifts to everyone present. Then I decide to make my farewell speech.
I decided to actually prepare a speech...the only time I would have done this in my 12 months as G.Sec of the MCA (excluding the Marathi Moot speech of course). I stared at the computer screen for some 2 hours the night before...trying very hard to channel my thoughts into one clear line. Didn't happen. And so, my last speech would be ad lib as usual. All my other Votes of Thanks have either been entirely extempore or written on the dais while the Chief Guest droned on endlessly.
I start off explaining the state of affairs regarding my speech. All good so far. Then the lump forms in the throat and somebody asks "Shreyas, are you crying?"
I say "No, but I'm going to."
The only other sentence I manage is "GLC's been the MCA". Not quite my eloquent best, yet profound methinks.
I usually don't cry and certainly not in public. The last time I can remember crying publicly was on 10 March 1998. This was when I was still in Delhi. We had a special assembly for one of the people who worked in the school office. He was my mentor of sorts - intoducing me to adventure sports and even teaching me some of the finer points of cricket. He had died in a road accident on the 5th. I get through 3 lines of my prepared speech, break down on stage in front of the whole school and walk off to storm into the loo to wash my face and give an exam 15 minutes later.
The MCA has been my whole life over the past 3 years and certainly over the past 2. There are very few things that I'm so passionate about and the MCA hits the top of that list. Amma later told me that she wasn't surprised that I broke down. I expected a lump in my throat, but definitely not uncontrollable sobbing. I can't figure what happened, except that it was quite a draining experience.
In the middle of all this, everyone present stood up and gave me an ovation...something that I would have enjoyed a lot more had I been able to actually see it without all the water in the eyes. And suddenly, all the applause, all the pats on the back from people I hardly know, all the congratulation letters after DMH, all the personal pride that I derived from all that we've achieved meant nothing.
There is no greater tribute to a person than to be appreciated by one's peers. It's the feeling you get when you walk back from playing the innings of your life on a cricket field and your whole team has lined up at the edge of the field to applaud you as you walk back. All the applause from the measly number of spectators, the "well done's" from the opposing team, the "badhiya beta" from the coach are meaningless. It's all that you ever want; to have people just like you appreciate your efforts, your sacrifices, your achievements and you as a person above everything else.
If any of you'll who were there that day are reading this (fat chance!), thank you. Those 30 seconds were worth all the sacrifices and endless madness.
A little after that, I had my elections for the college's General Secretary. After a painfully drawn out process involving lenghty minute taking, I lose it by one third preference vote.
Suddenly, I feel drained. There's this huge void in front of me. The MCA is gone...the only thing I was even considering doing this year in College isn't happening either. It was like the doors of the College I've done so much with were shut. A bit all-over-the-place, the rest of the day goes through without incident. Deep down I'm rather thankful that I lost the election. At least I can get on with my life now.
But I diagnose myself to be clinically depressed. So I take the ultimate medicine - long walk with A & A. I get back home after about three hours with them and I'm already feeling better. Another hour or so of time-wastage on Grand Theft Auto, and I'm feeling good enough to sleep.
The next few days haven't been great either. There's this tremendous void in my life that I'm struggling to come to terms with. I've devoted 12 hours a day for nearly the past 3 years to College and suddenly its all gone. I still have responsibilities and can easily take on more. But the question is whether I want to, whether I will still have the passion to see things out to their finality, to the point where I feel I've done all I could.
I can't answer that question. My heart and inertia say keep going. Rational thought says get on with your life. The two don't mix.
I'm tired. I don't think I'll ever be able to conjure up the kind of effort that it took to make DMH international; to stand up to all the pressure when we revolutionised mooting in GLC; to listen to every idiot, mooter or not, put down a dream; to face the 3 High Court judges the Monday after Chagla; to tell myself "keep going...it's worth it" when nothing told me I could or that there would be any payback at the end; to see an organisation of 50 plus individuals run ragged and know that you've probably pushed too far. Above all, I can't see myself feeling as passionately about anything in this College again.
It's been an incredible 12 months - 12 months that I will never forget. A roller coaster ride that's reached a number of crests and an equal number of troughs.
The important thing is that each crest was high enough to keep the car going through the trough that followed.
Sunday 14 August 2005
Tuesday 2 August 2005
Aamchi Mumbai atta changla naiye
For the non-Marathi speakers - the title means(more or less): "Our Mumbai is not in great shape right now". For the Marathi speakers - apologies for what must undoubtedly be poor Marathi, but this is the kind of Marathi that usually exits my mouth. It's worked so far; no reason to stop now.
After my last blog detailing my adventures on Tuesday (26 July), much has happened in and around Mumbai. The flooding in question then was not quite the ordinary flooding we see every year. It seems that the Santacruz met office recorded around 95 cm for 24 hours. In contrast, the south Bombay met office (Colaba) only received a measly 15.6 cm.
There have been plenty of people, each with their and their friends' stories, more than willing to divulge exciting stories. These are, of course, the lucky ones, who managed to get away with little or no trouble or harm. Others' houses have simply been washed away. Someone had her entire house submerged. When the waters receded, a large portion of their furniture was missing (probably just floated away). The State Government only yesterday announced what is a fairly reasonable relief package, nothing outstanding really; Rs. 5000 for every family whose entire house was submerged plus 20kg of rations and 10 litres of kerosene. Don't take these figures on an absolute basis. It is relatively generous by usual Government standards, especially keeping in mind that food and water is already being distributed and that the kith and kin of those who have died in the floods get Rs. 1 lakh.
I know the usual retort to these packages being announced is "The only bread earner is dead. What is 1 lakh going to do?". It is a fair comment as regards the victims, but a tad unfair on the Government, who have a load of these packages to give away every year. It is at times like this that you begin to appreciate what our leaders have to go through when (to make it a tad blatant), the shit hits the fan. They are invariably not up to the task and are subject to the ire of the public, but frankly - what can the CM do? Visiting places is a vote gathering exercise, and leads to more discomfort for the residents of the visted place, than anything else. He has to keep taking stock of what is going on and take what will always be unpopular decisions for some part of the public. Only yesterday, there were reports that the Koyna dam was overflowing and a ton of villages in the area, about a 80-100 km off Bombay were being evacuated. Dams bordering Karantaka were opened for a short while to mitigate the chance of a burst.
I can tell you from first hand experience, that being at the helm of an 'in crisis' organisation is not a happy place to be. Three things; one, everyone is looking to you for THE decision (for which you have little or no time); two, regardless of the decision, there are always unhappy entities baying for your blood; and three, the buck really does stop with you. Anybody who's been through this sort of thing will look upon our politicians with a lot more sympathy at times like this.
Having said that, the minimum requirement to gain my sympathy is that you do everything that you could have and ought to have done in the position. This is unfortunately not the case with the current administration, police or municipal corporation. Case in point: the Police Commissioner, AN Roy made a press statement on Wednesday saying, "Hum subah se kaam me lagey huey hain". The statement was retracted soon after - some attentive aide pointed out that the flooding had begun the night before and that was when the police should have been in action!
In contrast, the BMC (Brihannmumbai Municipal Corporation) has only really come under fire because of the Commissioner's poor PR skills. Jonny Joseph, the gentleman in question, makes ridiculous statements like, "If anything happens to Mumbai and Mumbaikars, I take full responsibilty." He hasn't shown his face on TV since. There are going to be a few jobs up for offer at the end of all this.
The only real action that could have been taken to avoid the catastrophe, was to inform everyone to get their backsides home early on Tuesday. The suburbs had already received over 400 mm of rain by noon, and surely a warning should have been issued saying "Go home early". Instead, the only message that got to office-going Mumbaikars was the rumour mill spread stuff that the trains had shut down. This was around 3 pm, by which time the trains had, for all practical purposes stopped. The official alert came around 6 pm when people were asked to stay where they were (at office, home or school/college). By this time, a lot of people were already in their cars on flooded main roads.
A lot of people actually died in their cars. Presumably the water seeped in and made it impossible for them to get out. A lot of the other dead were in landslides in Saki Naka and the area. In the Air-India colony in Kalina, whole families simply drowned, being unable to get away before their entire house was submerged. Flats on the first floor reported a foot or two of flooding!
Things have only worsened since Tuesday. The North rig on Bombay High caught fire after a cargo vessel attepmting a rescue crashed into it due to the choppy seas and poor visibility. The rig was completely destroyed leaving 10 dead in a few hours time. Bombay High North produces about 110,000 barrels of crude oil a day, which accounts for around 7% of India's production capability - gone now.
My grandfather tells me that the armed forces, in particular the navy, have always been very nervous about Bombay High. In case of war, the enemy needs only blow them up and the whole sea would be on fire, preventing any ships from going in or out of Bombay Harbour. Disaster.
How is Bombay going to cope now? Can it cope or is it simply going to roll over and let its underbelly be exposed? Of all the things that its been subject to - the 1992 riots, the 1993 bomba blasts, the plague of 1995, the blasts of 2002 and 2003- it is almost unimaginable that rain of all things would be the one to succeed in shutting it down.
Bombay's resilient spirit is well documented and I don't think my thoughts on it are going to make you any wiser. But I can just feel (a sixth sense, if you wish) that there is something different about this one. Everyone has been affected, everyone has a story to tell, everyone is wary of the next onslaught of rain. Above all, I think the fact that man is helpless against the force of the weather is what scares Bombay'ites the most. It's a case of prevention and no cure-not this year at least. Our drainage system continues to be a vintage piece of work. Brick lined storm drains emptying into the sea. Shut during high tide as they dont act as valves, but merely as conduit for water. (Some slums in the Parel area had fish at their doorsteps - literally)
Perhaps this is the wake up call that every city needs at some point of time. The case of Surat comes to my mind. One of India's filthiest cities, it emerged from the plague of 1995 in a new avatar. There's a pretty good documentary called "Blessed by the Plague" on this. See if you can grab it. I have a copy on VHS.
The rains have subsided to an extent now and things look to be heading towards normal again. Bombay has lost a week of work - the effects haven't hit yet, but the next few weeks will show how hard hitting this has really been.
No quote today-instead a pic. I've been labelled as a mallu don - please post your comments on that (preferably dissenting!).
After my last blog detailing my adventures on Tuesday (26 July), much has happened in and around Mumbai. The flooding in question then was not quite the ordinary flooding we see every year. It seems that the Santacruz met office recorded around 95 cm for 24 hours. In contrast, the south Bombay met office (Colaba) only received a measly 15.6 cm.
There have been plenty of people, each with their and their friends' stories, more than willing to divulge exciting stories. These are, of course, the lucky ones, who managed to get away with little or no trouble or harm. Others' houses have simply been washed away. Someone had her entire house submerged. When the waters receded, a large portion of their furniture was missing (probably just floated away). The State Government only yesterday announced what is a fairly reasonable relief package, nothing outstanding really; Rs. 5000 for every family whose entire house was submerged plus 20kg of rations and 10 litres of kerosene. Don't take these figures on an absolute basis. It is relatively generous by usual Government standards, especially keeping in mind that food and water is already being distributed and that the kith and kin of those who have died in the floods get Rs. 1 lakh.
I know the usual retort to these packages being announced is "The only bread earner is dead. What is 1 lakh going to do?". It is a fair comment as regards the victims, but a tad unfair on the Government, who have a load of these packages to give away every year. It is at times like this that you begin to appreciate what our leaders have to go through when (to make it a tad blatant), the shit hits the fan. They are invariably not up to the task and are subject to the ire of the public, but frankly - what can the CM do? Visiting places is a vote gathering exercise, and leads to more discomfort for the residents of the visted place, than anything else. He has to keep taking stock of what is going on and take what will always be unpopular decisions for some part of the public. Only yesterday, there were reports that the Koyna dam was overflowing and a ton of villages in the area, about a 80-100 km off Bombay were being evacuated. Dams bordering Karantaka were opened for a short while to mitigate the chance of a burst.
I can tell you from first hand experience, that being at the helm of an 'in crisis' organisation is not a happy place to be. Three things; one, everyone is looking to you for THE decision (for which you have little or no time); two, regardless of the decision, there are always unhappy entities baying for your blood; and three, the buck really does stop with you. Anybody who's been through this sort of thing will look upon our politicians with a lot more sympathy at times like this.
Having said that, the minimum requirement to gain my sympathy is that you do everything that you could have and ought to have done in the position. This is unfortunately not the case with the current administration, police or municipal corporation. Case in point: the Police Commissioner, AN Roy made a press statement on Wednesday saying, "Hum subah se kaam me lagey huey hain". The statement was retracted soon after - some attentive aide pointed out that the flooding had begun the night before and that was when the police should have been in action!
In contrast, the BMC (Brihannmumbai Municipal Corporation) has only really come under fire because of the Commissioner's poor PR skills. Jonny Joseph, the gentleman in question, makes ridiculous statements like, "If anything happens to Mumbai and Mumbaikars, I take full responsibilty." He hasn't shown his face on TV since. There are going to be a few jobs up for offer at the end of all this.
The only real action that could have been taken to avoid the catastrophe, was to inform everyone to get their backsides home early on Tuesday. The suburbs had already received over 400 mm of rain by noon, and surely a warning should have been issued saying "Go home early". Instead, the only message that got to office-going Mumbaikars was the rumour mill spread stuff that the trains had shut down. This was around 3 pm, by which time the trains had, for all practical purposes stopped. The official alert came around 6 pm when people were asked to stay where they were (at office, home or school/college). By this time, a lot of people were already in their cars on flooded main roads.
A lot of people actually died in their cars. Presumably the water seeped in and made it impossible for them to get out. A lot of the other dead were in landslides in Saki Naka and the area. In the Air-India colony in Kalina, whole families simply drowned, being unable to get away before their entire house was submerged. Flats on the first floor reported a foot or two of flooding!
Things have only worsened since Tuesday. The North rig on Bombay High caught fire after a cargo vessel attepmting a rescue crashed into it due to the choppy seas and poor visibility. The rig was completely destroyed leaving 10 dead in a few hours time. Bombay High North produces about 110,000 barrels of crude oil a day, which accounts for around 7% of India's production capability - gone now.
My grandfather tells me that the armed forces, in particular the navy, have always been very nervous about Bombay High. In case of war, the enemy needs only blow them up and the whole sea would be on fire, preventing any ships from going in or out of Bombay Harbour. Disaster.
How is Bombay going to cope now? Can it cope or is it simply going to roll over and let its underbelly be exposed? Of all the things that its been subject to - the 1992 riots, the 1993 bomba blasts, the plague of 1995, the blasts of 2002 and 2003- it is almost unimaginable that rain of all things would be the one to succeed in shutting it down.
Bombay's resilient spirit is well documented and I don't think my thoughts on it are going to make you any wiser. But I can just feel (a sixth sense, if you wish) that there is something different about this one. Everyone has been affected, everyone has a story to tell, everyone is wary of the next onslaught of rain. Above all, I think the fact that man is helpless against the force of the weather is what scares Bombay'ites the most. It's a case of prevention and no cure-not this year at least. Our drainage system continues to be a vintage piece of work. Brick lined storm drains emptying into the sea. Shut during high tide as they dont act as valves, but merely as conduit for water. (Some slums in the Parel area had fish at their doorsteps - literally)
Perhaps this is the wake up call that every city needs at some point of time. The case of Surat comes to my mind. One of India's filthiest cities, it emerged from the plague of 1995 in a new avatar. There's a pretty good documentary called "Blessed by the Plague" on this. See if you can grab it. I have a copy on VHS.
The rains have subsided to an extent now and things look to be heading towards normal again. Bombay has lost a week of work - the effects haven't hit yet, but the next few weeks will show how hard hitting this has really been.
No quote today-instead a pic. I've been labelled as a mallu don - please post your comments on that (preferably dissenting!).
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