Article in The New Indian Express On December 26, 2010

The following article appeared in my Sunday column 'Un Intended' in the New Indian Express.

Harimohan Paruvu

I hate to say this. But all this fight corruption, save trees, save rocks campaigning is a big waste of time. It will never work with us. Not that we are lazy, stupid or corrupt; we are just culturally rebellious. We, as a nation, hate it when things are forced on us, as the British, our municipal authorities and the population control department found out in the past. When someone tries to force us to do something, we do the opposite. Now what that means is that unless we understand our psyche and adopt ‘opposite’ strategies, we are stuck with corruption, plastic etc forever.

In fact all those who have understood this ‘opposite psyche’ business have used it to their advantage and are now happy, successful and rich. The first ones to figure this psyche out were the politicians who always say something and do the opposite. Soon, corporate leaders figured it out. Then the land mafia, builders, fixers, government – they all figured it out. They say something and do something else. The only ones who haven’t figured it out is the general public which remains confused despite getting the opposite of what they have been promised all their lives. This could be because the public also opposes the manner in which it is supposed to behave when they get cheated, and are happy. Opposing even what they should oppose.

To understand this better, practice applying opposites to everything. For example, if a leader says he will die for the public, it means the opposite i.e. run for your lives. When some party says it respects women and culture, hide them safely faraway. When corporate houses talk of honesty, sell the shares instantly because there is a huge accounting fraud coming up. When governments promise action against erring officials, all complainants can apply for anticipatory bail, as the officials get promoted to more powerful posts. Get it. Apply the opposite.

Now, we can apply this same ‘opposite technology’ for our own benefit. If we don’t want corruption, then, make corruption compulsory. Our countrymen will instantly find ways to beat the system - and end up being scrupulously honest. Or, instead of fighting terrorism, promote terrorism. Budding terrorists delist when they see government directives telling them to terrorise compulsorily. I mean what good is terrorism if it is being promoted like tourism? Or what good is a scandal if it is mandatory requirement for public figures? How can anything compulsory and legal be opposed?
The issues die.

Similarly, we can get rid of the use of plastic, unsafe sex, queue jumping, spitting, scratching etc. For example, if we have a rule that directs the public to compulsorily spit ten times every five meters, the public will do the opposite. They will not even open their mouths for fear that they might spit accidentally. No more plastic, no more sex, no more nothing. The world gets what it wants (peace), the public gets what it wants (to oppose all rules) and the state gets what it wants (to harass the public) - it can even penalise the public for doing the right thing, which is legally the wrong thing. Everyone is happy.

The upside is that things get done easily. Corruption goes, plastic goes, scratching stops. The downside is that life gets boring. With nothing to oppose there will be no drama. All interesting media programs die, except DD which bores everyone to death. It will soon be more interesting to meet one’s family over dinner than watch prime time news. Unless, of course, we make talking to the family compulsory!

Article in the Indian Express - February 20, 2011

The following article appeared in my Sunday column 'Un Intended' in the New Indian Express.

Cool Scams That Are Hard to Fathom

Harimohan Paruvu

We, the public of India, have a request to make to the government. We would like a Scam Information Department. Mainly because there are too many scams and it is getting difficult to follow them. But more importantly, all new scams are hitech and complicated and we have no clue about what is really happening. We can figure our simple scams like say the Adarsh scam which is about real estate. The Bofors scam was about kickbacks in military deals. The cattle fodder scam was about buying cattle fodder for cattle that never existed – both cattle and fodder. Mining scams are about mining in places belonging to someone else. Corporate scams are about fooling people into investing real money in fake companies. These scams are simple and transparent. But it is with the hitech scams that we need assistance in. But why does the public need to know? Because we suspect that it’s our money the scam guys are playing with! 

For the general public that is going around shaking their heads wisely at the mention of scams, there is some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that lakhs of crores of the scam money is yours. So stop behaving like it belongs to someone else. (Now that I have your attention, I request you not to have heart attacks or stage dharnas.) The good news is that it has been invested well by these smart scam guys in tax free stuff! Some have invested it in real estate, some in cash, some in cattle feed. But it’s safe and we can get it back, tax or no tax, Switzerland or Mars. There is only one problem. The new scams. 

2G? And now an S band scam? What are these? What are these guys selling off? Letters? Alphabets? Languages? For a nation that does not understand a single legal document, a tax form, a bank application or even a railway reservation form, forget it, we don’t even understand directions on roads, how the hell will anyone understand these vague alpha numeric scams? Have scams by all means, since no one is able to stop anyone from doing so, but at least educate us on what they are about. After all we are the investors. Maybe conduct special classes to explain what each scam is about and how much we, the public, have invested in each of them. 

This is where the Scam department could help us in understanding our scam position. The scam guys are using our money to sell off frequencies ranging from 2G to S. Obviously they have done it for some benefit. Now all we need to do is track how much we have made, and then pay us (the public) off, and we are all in the same frequency. (That is one frequency we all understand.) Only thing is that if we have sold off 2G, then we must have already sold off a1, a2, a3, a4, a5….22e, 2f, 2g? And since we have now come to S, my guess is that we must have made a neat packet already! 

Now look at the future of our investments. We have the juicy prospect of scams until we get to ZZ100 or more! With so much at stake for us, there is an immediate need for us to understand our scam portfolio because it is starting to look very promising to me indeed. From a Scam Market akin to the Stock Market, to scam equity, futures and options, the possibilities are endless! But first, the Scam Department please. There is much work to be done.

Article in the Indian Express - February 13, 2011

The following article appeared in my Sunday column 'Un Intended' in the New Indian Express.

Pregnant Autos With Superpowers

Harimohan Paruvu

If traffic is an indicator of the culture of a place, we in Hyderabad have evolved distinctly in this area. Today, few places in the world can match our traffic. Though better experienced than written about, certain aspects of our traffic must be dwelt on for the sake of documentation. Apart from monstrous trucks, bullying buses, rascally autos and silky smooth two wheelers, one segment of the Hyderabadi traffic that strikes fear in the Hyderabadi heart is the pregnant auto. Yes, normal auto rickshaws also strike fear in your heart, but that’s nothing compared to what pregnant autos can do to you. 

Pregnant autos are normal autos with the supernatural capability to expand in such a grotesque way that they can accommodate eight passengers in their insides. In the front seat (there is only one), three passengers cling to the driver’s collar and shirt sleeves, who in turn clings to the steering. In the backseat, packed tighter than lovers from the Roman era, are four to five men and women, huddled closer than they would ever be with their spouses, making up for any shortfall in their romantic lives in the short distances to their destinations. Imagine this auto, packed with some eight to nine humans, heads, legs and hands sticking out at odd angles, flying at top speed heading uncontrollably at you like some drunken bull that has broken out of a bull ring. It is a sight that strikes cold fear into any heart and makes many non-believers believe in God. Obviously, these autos can ply only on roads where no law exists because no law would allow such things in public places.

Some thought that pregnant autos were the incarnation of some Goddess and almost started a new cult. Only upon a closer look did they realize that the heads and limbs in the auto belonged to a happy bunch of passengers. But there is yet another supernatural aspect to these autos. Pregnant autos are invisible to traffic cops. The poor cops can spot your seat belts, your pollution certificates, your mobile phones but they can never spot these pregnant autos as they careen at speeds not less than 100 mph, weaving in and out of traffic, picking up and dropping whole bodies or parts of passengers, balancing on two wheels precariously as they negotiate turns and braking to a complete halt when required. The whole world can see them, feel them, but traffic cops cannot. No wonder the pregnant autos of Hyderabad are the scariest proposition since the Ramsay Brothers. It is like having a tipsy James Bond drive Noah’s Ark.

Pregnant autos are a special feature of our Hyderabadi culture, and need to be preserved. However, I doubt if we can take this any longer. Everytime a pregnant auto appears, people on the road lose a few years of their life out of sheer stress. Yes, pregnant autos can be used productively for society to inflict third degree torture on hardened criminals or to frighten little children to drink milk, but overall they serve little purpose except increase the number of heart patients. I suggest that our traffic cops be given special powers and special glasses instantly (or glasses with special powers) to spot these pregnant autos and stop them from scaring the daylights out of everyone. As it is we have regular autos to worry about and now these. Maybe, like tigers and other wild animals that are dangerous but still need to be preserved, they could be kept in special enclosures. I don’t mind paying to go and watch them on a safari!

Article in the Indian Express - February 6, 2011

The following article appeared in my Sunday column 'Un Intended' in the New Indian Express.

Bring Back Black Money 

Harimohan Paruvu

I have been ecstatic ever since I heard that they are bringing back all our black money from Switzerland. Apart from planning our retirement, we must not forget the heroic efforts of all the visionary people who thoughtfully saved up money over all these years (since 1947 apparently) so the rest of us lazies could use it on a rainy day. Tomorrow, when our black money returns, we can all sit back, enjoy it and live happily ever after. Thanks to these great souls our entire nation will be drenched in prosperity.

One of the greatest things about this wonderful bunch of altruists is that they do not want their names to be made public. This is the true sign of greatness; that you do great deeds but take no credit for it. But though we may not ever know their names, we must put on record what they have done for our society, our country.

Firstly they took the trouble of accumulating as much as Rs. 70 lakh crore since 1947. When the average Joe has not been able to save even a few thousands, these great men have accumulated such a staggering amount – all for us! Secondly, they saved this money against all temptation to enjoy this wealth themselves. They displayed an iron will, resisted all temptation and quietly towed it to Switzerland so we could benefit later.  Thirdly, they took the trouble to keep this operation quiet for all these years so we would not go and bring it back for every small crisis like rising onion prices or something like that. And then, they waited until the Swiss declared India as No.1. (Apparently we top the list of moneys stashed in Swiss banks with some $1500 billion while the next four countries together have only some $ 1100 billion haha). Today, if we get this humongous amount of money back (how they will get it back is a mystery to me – trains, trucks?), we will rise from being a measly developing nation to being one of the top 5 nations in the world. All credit for our rise goes entirely to these visionary savers!

Their selfless behavior, strategic vision, sense of responsibility, team spirit, leadership and such stellar qualities must be made public so future generations know about them. But since we may never ever know who these noble men are, the least we can all do is to say a collective thank you. One of the ways would be to erect a memorial. I suggest a large statue of a lone man carrying a huge bag of cash and heading off in the direction of the Swiss Banks in every village. Another way of recognizing their contribution would be by giving awards (bigger than awards that everyone is getting these days) to empty seats like they did for the Nobel Prize, because what they have done is huge. Imagine how much they would have toiled to build a parallel economy that makes us strong enough to be in the top 5 overnight. Undoubtedly this is the greatest achievement by a group of people for our country and no reward is too great for them. I demand that a significant chunk of the black money that is returning (after my cheque is given to me), be earmarked for these memorials and rewards. The only thing I want to know is this – how did they paint so much money black, and which paint company supplied so much black paint to them! If we know that, we can use the same paint to paint the memorial black as well.

Article in the Indian Express - January 30, 2010

This article was published in my Sunday column 'Un Intended' in the New Indian Express.

It's Time To Review Our Reviewers

Harimohan Paruvu

Once upon a time I used to watch movies and read books that were strictly recommended by friends and family. Whenever the recommendations were unreliable, I dropped the respective friends and relatives (leaving me with 4 friends as on date). As I grew older, I realized, to my consternation that the number of books and movies in the world were growing faster than my advisors. Between these mind boggling numbers and PR agencies that started doing better jobs at packaging and hyping movies and books, I got thoroughly confused. I looked for help. And then, like a boon from God, came the lot of reviewers to guide me with their trained eyes, articulate voices and independent views. 

All was well initially. I trusted reviews completely. But after a while, I developed doubts. The complex and deeply analytical reviews confused me, even more than the books and movies themselves. Many reviews caused me to wonder if I missed an important part of my education. The reviews themselves, I realized, needed lots of foussed study, probably by hundreds of qualified researchers.  Many times, what the reviews said was good was not and vice versa. This caused me to doubt my own judgment (which is a dangerous thing to happen in life). Were the reviewers seeing some great merit in this dull, plodding, senseless plot when all I wanted to do was to run far away from it? Why was I, despite my best efforts, not able to see those wonderful qualities that the reviewers were able to? After years of doubting my intelligence, I decided to study reviewers closely. 

After a short while it became clear to me that reviewers also come in human sizes and shapes, temperaments and profiles. It appeared to me that they were not made of some god like material which gives them power to perfectly assess books and movies. I heaved a sigh of relief. That was good news for me. If reviewers were human, they could possibly err!

Upon closer observation I started understanding them.  Some are reluctant reviewers who are sick and tired of reviewing stuff day in and day out. Considering the stuff they get to review, one does feel for them. (Even I try to get my books reviewed which thankfully, the sensible reviewers avoid.) There are health conscious reviewers who use reviews as a good therapy to get bile out of their system. There are express reviewers who review as fast as they can and in their haste, confuse one with another, and end up reviewing a completely different creation they have created. Then there are slow reviewers who never review anything. There are knowledgeable reviewers who end up writing about some great epic or movie they were reminded of and not what they were allegedly reviewing. There are elaborate reviewers who say nothing, and some who write small reviews that can kill. Some write all nice things and give bad ratings. Some write all bad things and give good ratings. Some say must watch and must read and shut off their phones before people start calling them.

All in all, I think I now understand and sympathise with the lot of the reviewers. Earlier only good books and good movies were made. Now everyone is writing and making movies, including me. Constant exposure to such toxic stuff would certainly affect anyone’s judgment. Our reviewers need rest from the stuff they are reviewing - only certified stuff should be given to them. It’s time we reviewed this whole reviewing business. But until then I suggest we have a review system to review the reviewers.

Article in the Indian Express - January 23, 2011

Th following article appeared in my Sunday column 'Un Intended' in the New Indian Express.

Incoherent Crews At 30, 000 Feet

Harimohan Paruvu

There are times in life when communication becomes extremely important. Times like when you are flying 30000 ft high in an airplane and you have no clue about what to do except put your seat belts on and take them off. In such times one should understand what the crew is saying - else its curtains. So when I was aboard this plane recently and realized that I could not understand a word, I got worried. 

We were flying smoothly along at 30000 ft when this voice came on. ‘Goood evenin las n gentm, this is your capn Ra Sug speaig …’. I got worried. If he was the captain why was he speaking like he was faraway? Was someone holding him hostage? Was he slurring? Was he getting off the plane at 30000 ft? Was he speaking from some remote location? Then I suddenly remembered that almost all the pilots I’ve heard, speak this way. Maybe the stress of flying makes them speak in this cryptic fashion. Or maybe they have some special flying instrument in their throat that makes it difficult to speak normally. Or maybe they are trained to speak in a secret code to throw off unwanted elements from their tracks. It made sense from a security perspective. I am pretty sure no one would understand what he said without using a secret code. I sympathized with the lot of the pilots. Though they had highly paid jobs, wore smart uniforms and were surrounded by pretty airhostesses, this did not seem right. Our pilot sounded like he needed help.

The copilot came on some time later, surprisingly loud and clear. I think we could have heard him even if he didn’t use the mike and he was still on ground. He rambled on about the wonderful weather, how high we were flying  etc in an obvious attempt to impress the air hostesses.  ‘I hope you have a great time and a great time was had by you and we are happy to give you a great time because we are here to give you…’ I think at that point the captain shut off the system or strangled the copilot with the mike because there was an abrupt sound and an awful silence after that. I prayed that the copilot was better with his flying (wherever he was) because I didn’t want to go round and round in circles for sure. One curious thing was that the copilot seemed to have better instruments to speak with. Not that marble instrument that the pilot was stuck in the throat with.

This time I paid keen attention to the airhostesses when they spoke, unlike the first time when they flailed their arms and distracted me. The airhostess spoke English like she was a foreigner. I understood nothing. If foreign accents are difficult, Indian foreign accents are impossible for me. To my surprise she spoke Hindi in the same accent as well. I understood nothing again. Now I was worried. I mean if we don’t understand a word of what the pilot, copilot and airhostesses say, how can we follow anything in a crisis? What if they ask us to sit quietly and we jump off the plane, or what if we open emergency doors instead of shutting them tight? That would be disastrous at 30000 ft.

I have a solution though. I think they should do what the satellite television guys have done to improve communication. If airlines use subtitles whenever the crew wishes to speak, we can stop putting on and taking off our seat belts for everything.

Article in the Indian Express - January 9, 2011

The following article appeared in my Sunday column 'Un Intended' in the New Indian Express.

WAR OVER MY COLONY'S 2011 RESOLUTION

Harimohan Paruvu

An important looking paper landed on my doorstep the other day. It was one of the many that my colony welfare association sends on a regular basis. Sometimes these papers talk about functions and donations, but mostly they talk of some resolutions - some extraordinary, some really extraordinary, and sometimes even really really extraordinary resolutions. One needs to have a special kind of a mindset to understand resolutions, which I don’t, so I keep away from them. But since it was New Year and I had no resolutions of my own I decided to see if they were passing any resolutions that I could also endorse. 

A motley group of 30 had already assembled in a tent, resolve written large on their face. The president put forward a proposal to construct a structure covering the tiny 800 sq. yard plot that passes off as the colony ground, so people are not inconvenienced during functions. That got me wondering. Why cover this little ground as if it was some government secret when the colony kids have no space to play anyway and were playing cricket innovatively and dangerously on the busy roads. The ground must be for kids to play I resolved. Not for noisy and messy functions for people who can go elsewhere anyway. But being new to this resolution business, I watched.

The proposal got everyone suitably worked up. Some of the people started shouting noisily, some in favour and some against. Some others wanted to shout but could not, and shook violently as if possessed by some fever. Some got up and sat down. Some ran up and down the aisle meaninglessly. Some tried to enforce discipline on some people they fancied.

Then one of the members got up, walked to the dais, and said he would like the ground to remain uncovered because it is the only breathing space the colony has. We all clapped. He wound up with the sad observation that since ‘people’ know how to subvert laws, bye laws and stuff and pass resolutions by themselves, no good would ever happen in our colony anyway. He left sadly on that bleak note. Another gentleman also stood up for not covering up the ground. The general mood, it seemed, was for leaving the ground alone.

Then the older and wiser gentlemen got up. They said that a high roof, 25-30 feet high with few or no columns to support it, could cover the ground, so children could play as well and there would be cover. How they proposed to construct such a miraculous roof was beyond anyone but soon everyone was resolving how a ‘good’ architect must be consulted, how a stadium like facility could be built, how the best structure should be made. Someone wanted to know if this was a playground or a function ground. 

Meanwhile one member started an unrelated issue about the Association’s dealings which the President did not like. The President wagged his finger at the errant member and asked him to shut his mouth. The offended errant member wagged more fingers and yelled back. We all joined in and yelled at everyone to shut up. Nothing was resolved in those two hours. The only progress made was that a couple of members appeared to have had minor cardiac attacks. The association people asked us to eat lunch. Someone told me this is what happens all the time because they never get a quorum to pass any resolutions. Something like what happens in the Parliament. I resolved not to go back there. If I do, I resolved to go with some sharp weapons.