An unclear article on the nuclear deal

Found this while surfing aimlessly.

The article deserves mention because of the authors : Medha Patkar, Aruna Roy, and Sandeep Pandey! The article is quite speculative, for example I don't see how the 123 agreement would 'escalate the arms race between Pakistan and India', and consequently end up 'sabotaging the India-Pakistan peace process'.

Further down :

However, our basic objections to this deal stem from our opposition to the production and use of both nuclear weapons and nuclear energy. The irreversible dangers of radioactivity and its ongoing impact on health, water, and the environment are factors that are being summarily dismissed in an irresponsible manner. The whole cycle of nuclear production beginning with uranium mining, is fraught with catastrophic dangers, and as a nation we cannot use the decisions of another country as justification for our own. Places like Jaduguda in Jharkhand, Kota and Pokhran in Rajasthan, have already demonstrated the ongoing dangers of nuclear use to the common citizen.

I really don't know how Jaduguda, Pokharan and Kota have 'demonstrated' any danger? (no sarcasm here). Some citations/examples would have helped here (as well as at other places in the article). Given the respect most people have for the authors (myself included), I think they could afford a longer article detailing all their objections and reason them sufficiently.

What's the alternative? Hydro: requires dams, and I concur with Medha Patkar that there should be no more of them. Solar? Requires space, huge infrastructure. Wind? Limited availability. Thermal (coal) ? The only realistic alternative. It has low efficiency, even lower because coal in India is of poor quality, and has emissions that are quite harmful. Plus lives of people working in coal mines have been documented so often and makes a sad story every time (Dhanbad, anyone?).

Despite the apparent lack of logical completeness, I admit I find a point : that there is a need for greater discussion on the deal. I disagree with the communists, and I know that the reasons for BJP's protest are the most despicable ones. But more discussion, and public discussion : I am all for it. Maybe there should be someone quoting how many people are endangered because of coal mining, and what exactly are the 'dangers of nuclear use to the common citizen'. Though the logistics of any such discussion, given the size of the country, could be an issue, the magnitude of the issue demands it.

Tales of travel gone awry

For all the traveling in this summer, not everything could have been perfect. But nothing beats the experiences here. Check out `A Grand Entrance on the Paris Dining Scene'.

One of my own, in Nice, France :

I enter my hotel, and the receptionist has a hard time finding my last name `Grover'. Eventually, a `Ghova-ha' is found, with a broad grin, and so is my room. That my room-mate was a certain Prabhakaran did not help the matters. She tried thrice, but could never finish pronouncing the name fully (let alone correctly).

The night before I left for Paris, I had to cancel a reservation. I called up the hotel, and a distinctly French sounding gentleman picked up.

"Bon soir!"

"Bon soir," I respond, as I explain him my reason for cancelation.

"Can I have your second name?"

Ah! There's my chance. From the recollection, I come out with
"Ghova-ha."

"Comment?"

another try . . .
"Ghova-ha."

Pause.

"Grover, you mean?"

argh...

Why Banaras?

In a recent chat with Srinath, who was one of my co-organizers for Spic-Macay events at IIT Kanpur, we talked about a Varanasi trip in 2005 (I think). I had written up this account then. Its one of those few accounts that I still like two years after writing.


---------------------------------------------------


Why Banaras?


"Why Banaras?" my friend almost shouted on phone, in mixed surprise and anger. In fact, anyone who knew me- the skeptic, and the city- the mystic, spirtual center, advised me against it. Just as I was beginning to have second thoughts, the eternally-in-bliss Srinath entered. He is the kind of guy who can find romance even in the evil-dead movies (you get the point, don't you?). "Are you coming?", he was the person who had suggested the trip in the first place. Over the next few minutes, he dismissed my misgivings, by repeatedly pointing to an earthly romance in the holy city. Though hardly convinced, I decided to give it a try. I wasn't going to do anything over the weekend anyway!

Unplanned as the visit was, we could only catch the third train, and it was already late night. Once inside the train, we could only catch very little sleep (blame the above two to bad catching practice. I did manage to catch cold though :) ). However, early morning, when we reached the city, I contemplated that the journey was probably worth the trouble. Coming out of the station, one notices an apparent difference in the way the people look. They are calm, serene, far from sadness, and even happiness. In stark contrast to the tempo-wallah's at Kanpur, whose natural expression is almost bitter. Even the language-bhojpuri- reflects a complacence matched only by bihari.

Taking a rather arduous path, we reached Samar's home. Samar, the grand old man of SPIC MACAY IIT Kanpur, is a good friend of ours (he isn't really old, he's completing his PhD, but he has been there in IITK for as long as I can remember). There was a 24-hour non-stop Ramcharitmanas reading going on at his home. I am not the kind to like the bhajans, but I was too tired to be displeased, and after having a traditional lunch, I dozed off peacefully. In retrospect, I believe I actually liked the bhajans, which is quite an event for me. The environment was so home-like, that in the middle of my sleep, I noticed a small kid sleeping beside me, and I never even thought it was something surprising (I didn't even remember where I was sleeping!). The kid was Samar's nephew, and in the few hours after we woke up, he and his cousins kept me quite busy. :)



Samar's nephew and his cousins

As the sun set, Srinath, who has been to Varanasi before, accompanied me to Ganga's "Dashashmavedha" ghat for the evening aarti. One of my friends had recommended this aarti, and not without good reasons. If you do not have an idea of what aarti at this ghat is like, this is unlike any aarti you've seen before. 5 young men stand on platforms, synchronously performing aarti to the river. A glorious platform with light-decorated chatris and chanting of sanskrit hymns completes the picture. The fires in hands of the men and the confidence on their faces is symbolic of the place. The aarti begins on a low note, and the tempo rises to a crecendo in no time, finally coming down again before a soft end. It is an elaborate arrangement, and at the end of it I was feeling surprised that such an aarti is performed daily. It seems appropriate only for special occasions!


The evening aarti


We came down to the ghat, and took a boat ride. It was already dark, and only the lights on the ghats were visible, along with sand on the other shore. Our boatman was Gauri. No, Gauri is a male. He took us a full circle telling us about some of the ghats, and stories behind them. There was on named after Dr. Rajendra Prasad, and one after Meera. There was a ghat where the pehlavan's still practise their sport, and one where a lady was playing with fire. Yet another, Harishchandra ghat, where bodies were being cremated. It was as if different forms and stages of life are put together on a small stage for you to see. The darkness only elevated the mystic nature. Gauri was rather an introvert, and spoke only when necessary. Mostly we were surrounded by sounds of the oar gently heaving the water, as the silent movie unfolded in front of us. If nobody spoke for a couple of minutes, my mind would plunge into serenity and peace, as if being here was the most natural thing.


It was quite late by the time we were off the boat. On the way back, we stopped over to have a wonderful chaat and gol-gappas at Kashi-chat bhandar, which was predecided by Srinath based on his previous outings there.

We had planned an early morning re-visit to the Ghats, but it got too late by the time we were in our beds. So when I woke up next morning, Srinath suggested dropping some plans, and getting some more sleep. To pester him about this for years to come, I took a pic of his while he slept :)



Sri sleeps early morning

So we managed to leave Samar's home only late morning, and went to the Kashi Vishwanath temple. Temple visit was short-n-sweet, and my mind was more on the score in Indo-Pak match going on, than on the temple. More so because my first choice had been Sarnath, of which we weren't even sure we were going to visit. I actually had fun in the visit. I wore a garland of "dhatura" flowers obtained as prasadam, and roamed around in semi-sane state. Despite repeated objections from Srinath, I kept the garland on for the rest of the trip!

Coming back from the temple, we skipped lunch, and went straight to Sarnath. Sarnath is home to a Buddhist stupa. Getting off the auto-rickshaw, we first went into a museum containing a brief history of the place, as well as some idols and artefacts that were unearthed while excavating the stupa.

Around the stupa, there were a couple of buddhist temples, one built with Japanese aid, and other with Sri Lankan aid. While the Japanese temple had glorious statues, and a modern look (it was built in 1993, or thereabouts), the Sri Lankan temple had wonderfully painted walls inside. The paintings depicted buddha's complete life, and it was interesting to relate the paintings with the various buddha stories that I had come across.



The Dhamekha Stupa

As a grand finale to the trip, we went to the Dhamekha Stupa. This was built at the place where Buddha gave his first lecture (to his 5 pupils) after enlightenment. It used to be a deer park, and I guess they still have some wild animals at the place (even in our absence). Colonel Cunningham had excavated the stupa. He bore a shaft from the top center of the stupa, and found a tablet with an inscription containing the word “Dhamekha”. The remains of what seemed like a place of study (does that delight you? :) ) were quite interesting, but we were already finished with the time we had. We had taken a guide with us, who was really nice. (The last guide, at Konark, had been quite a headache.) He also showed us a tree which purportedly grew from a branch of a branch of a branch of a tree under which buddha attained enlightenment! In between all these branch-changes (!), or branch-transfers, there was one which had come from Sri Lanka! (and, therefore, also one which had gone to Sri Lanka :) ).

That was it. We returned back, late as usual, and darted off to the station. Samar's brothers saw us off, and we were back to where be belong around midnight.

So why Banaras? The ghats, the stupa, the temple? Probably not. I think the answer lies in the spirit that the city represents. The city is enchanting, but strangely so. The people have a sense of maturity. At the ghats, you can see the aarti, the practicing of artistic skills, the daily work of washermen, and cremation grounds, all juxtaposed to put forward a wholesome view of life. A view where death is just another event. Where the transience of life has been accepted, and the city has risen above pondering over questions on life. I would probably not have enjoyed Banaras had I been there earlier, maybe just a couple of years back. The city demands a certain maturity, and a certain balance, certain even-headedness and temperament. I never knew I possessed these qualities, and more so, that they offer a calm joy and peace. In a way, I have grown up, and the city made me realize it.

Corpse 'flower' now in bloom!

Berkeley Botanical Garden's rare Titan arum plant is now blooming. The inflorescence (commonly misunderstood as a single flower) of Titan arum is huge, growing to a maximum of 9 ft (reported once).

I saw this plant on my first visit to the garden. But I never knew it was this fascinating.

Its perfume smells 'like there is a dead body in the room', and is strongest for the first twelve hours of blooming. Go there while it lasts, it would be the strongest for the next 4-5 hours, maybe. And the flower would be in its prime for merely 4 days or so. The flowering is so rare that the wiki article on the plant lists the various recent flowerings. You may never smell one again!

Irwhining

Sometimes you have to take it onto yourself to make things interesting.

Nothing changes in Irvine. You get up at the same time, the harsh sun forces you to. You walk to the office, start the same work. See the same people. The 'Salaam' to the persian guy has become a daily routine. So much so, that even the sunset is the same each day, a resignation of the weather to the immutability of Irvine. If it were not for the weekend trips, time would run around in circles.

Enter Poirot and his little grey cells (courtesy youtube). The show is quite easy to get addicted to. An interesting plot, the suave Poirot, the French language and mannerisms (Belgian, he would insist), and some pretty girls every now and then. There goes the night. Sigh, every night. Starting right at 8, and ending at 9:30-ish. Even that has become a routine.

Except that Poirot, and the gymnastics of his little grey cells do make simple things sound interesting. So now if I can't find my socks, it becomes 'The case of the missing socks'. The next trampled snail brings to the mind the words 'Death on the pathway' (More on snails in Irvine some other day). A dead squirrel is 'Murder on the crossroads'. The work becomes 'The mystery of the unfixed bug', way cooler than 'heck my code doesn't compile'.

Not all routines are boring, though. Getting a paycheck, for instance, needs no Poirot.