Positive Attitude in life

Right now I am going through a patch in my life, which I will not call a very purple one. This week dad was diagnosed with renal calculi which simply put is stone in the kidney...

My dad who till now has been so healthy and fit... I could never imagine him one day coming under the surgeon's knife...

While all of us try to keep him in good spirit and lively, somewhere all of us have been hit hard by the news...

I personally have been feeling very lonely but being unable to express it to anybody...

Just now when I was feeling very down and out,I remembered one of the talk I had heard from Sudha Murthy...

Those were the days when I went in a contingent representing our state in the National youth Festival at Trivandrum in the January of 2003...

Sudha Murthy was invited as a speaker on one of the days (of the Youth Festival) in the morning but her flight was delayed and she arrived quite late in the afternoon.. She immediately arrived in the stage and got in to a conversation mode.. As she had to leave early she stated her dialogue by introducing herself..

Everything about the way she spoke... The way she presented things and her overall persona reflected so much humility, devoid of any ego or pride...Seeing her I remembered one of the saying in Oriya, which roughly translates in to " The tree, which bears fruit the most bends down the most".

Sudha Murthy started with a plea: not to ask her questions regarding how she met Narayan Murthy, How they fell in love etc etc.

The conversation started with the crowd and people posing a lot of question. And then somebody asked her a question which started the story…

“What keeps you going in life” A young boy from some obscure college was the one who asked the question…

Even when I think now it really amazes me to think the depth which this question had…

Sudha Murthy fell silent for what seemed a long time and then she looked up…

“ I know this is going to be long but I must tell you this story” Said Sudha Murthy. “ This story will be a long one and may be it will be the last discussion which we may have in this forum, but I want you to listen to this story as it carries a valuable lessons for all of us to implement in our respective life” spoke Sudha Murthy in the same solemn tone.

The following is a recollection of all I could remember from the story. I may not vouch for its veracity word by word but what I could vouch is the essence and the beauty of the story which I still could feel whenever I close my eyes and take a deep breath…

Sudha Murthy told us...

“ I joined Engineering College with lots of anticipation and eagerness typical of a fresher. I came from a typical middle class family and was imbued with the value typical of a south Indian family namely to be good to others, to one’s self, work hard and honestly and to have a bright outlook in life.

The 1st day of my college I was allotted my hostel room and could not wait for classes to finish for me to check out my room.. My own room.. Something I could call my own…

Coming from a typical middle class family, we had to share room among ourselves.. To get a room that too to one’s self was a luxury unthinkable by us…

After my classes got over I rushed to the hostel and after some searching got my room. It was a nice little room with a good view from the window… in my excitement I forgot to see some luggage which was being kept there previously… That’s when I saw Shikha…(lets call her Shikha for the sake of anonymity)

“ Who are you” she looked at me angrily and asked.

“ This room has been allotted to me”. I gave back with a vengeance typical of the middle class when pushed to a corner...

“ That Can not be.. This room is allocated to me” She retorted even strongly…

We decided to go to the hostel superintendent so that my due room is given to me (she on the other hand also thought like wise).. When we went to the superintendent she said that the room is on twin sharing basis and belonged to both of us now.. Both of us could not believe our ears but kept quiet as getting an outside accommodation was nearly impossible in that area…

After getting back to the room we waged a silent war against each other and did not talk for some time.. However, I broke the silence as I saw no logical end to this tension given both of us misunderstood the situation initially.. She was somehow skeptic initially but later accepted the truce offer…

Then it was all fun and we would gossip day and night and became very close pals… but suddenly I noticed something in her…

I noticed that whenever we would talk, Shikha would ultimately take to the darker side of everything and would see the negative in everything… initially I used to take it as a one off phenomenon but increasingly noticed that it was a regular trait with her..

Starting from morning when she will wake up and if you say it’s a beautiful morning, she will immediately turn back and say what a lousy morning it is, how the climate here sucks and how it was so good at home.. And she will not stop at that.. She will crib about every single thing in the campus, her daily life and everything else except herself.. Whom she considered to be victim of all the vagaries of nature and man..

Staying thus with Shikha was becoming intolerable with each passing day and more than my study I believed that I will lose the focus in my life as well the positivity that is within me.. I met up with the hostel superintendent and requested for a room change.. As I was a good student and a disciplined one too, the superintendent allotted me another room.. That was the last I knew of Shikha..

I got busy in my schedule, semester exams, practicals etc and almost forgot about Shikha. Then I met Narayan and we fell in love and ultimately got married… eventually we started Infosys..

Long after our college days, when I was working for the company, I got to travel to Goa in a rainy day of August…

Rains can be so unpredictable in this part of the worlds.. After the meeting I was just taking a stroll in the street when suddenly it seemed as if somebody threw a bucketful of water on me from top and I was drenched to the skin all over.. I ran to the nearest shelter (which happened to be a coffee house) and took shelter inside (in the meanwhile the rain outside had suddenly stopped and it was all so very dry outside.. I was flabbergasted)…

I decided to take a hot cup of good coffee before I have another round of hide and seek with the rain god…

that’s when I saw her...

My God.. What would I do now.. Now she would come and pour out all her woes of all these years on me (which will be nothing in comparison to the rain which has ‘poured’ itself on me).. I must do something to escape her attention… just when I was about to escape out side I heard the dreaded voice “Sudha” Sudha”…

I had to stop..

I looked around and saw Shikha standing in front of me.. Not changed a bit and looking the same as college days.. I feigned surprise and we said hello to each other… “Come lets have coffee.. we have a lot of catching up to do..” said Shikha… her voice had an amazing chirpiness and warmth in it..

We sat down to have coffee.. then Shikha stared to pick up the thread where we had left it so many years ago.. And all the while I dreaded the moment.. When all cribbing, negativity and pessimism will gush forth leaving me drenched, exhausted and bitter..

Surprisingly, Shikha has been now talking for last 30 minutes almost on her own (my contribution being a minor nod, a hmmm or a smile) and I could not detect a single tinge of negativity and pessimism in her entire conversation.. It was as if life was a big treat for her.. She was talking away as if she is a girl in a village fair who is amazed to see all the new and wonderful things.. having a ball of a life time…and enjoying it all..

I could control myself no more…

I spluttered it out there and then… “Shikha if you do nt mind may I ask you something.. And forgiver me if I may sound blunt”

“ please go ahead. Ask” said Shikha

“How come I don’t find the old college days Shikha I am so used to.. Where is the girl who used to crib day and night about everything under the sun? I have been hearing you for the last 30 mins and I have not heard a single complaint, grumbling and cribbing from you.. What has happened to the Old Shikha.. I finished in one breath

Shikha smiled sweetly and looked at me.. “It’s a long story and I will only tell you if you promise to stay with me tonight” Said Shikha

I was so curious that I was ready to do the world just to know what had happened to my old friend.. I accompanied her to her house.. After refreshments and all we sat down.. “ Do let me know now na” I was pleading to her like a school girl… Shikha looked at me with admonishing eyes of an elder and I recoiled… “ ok baba , I will tell you.." Said Shikha…

Remember Sudha, how I was in the colleges” said Shikha with a voice which sounded as if coming from a far away land.. “Those were the days when we had lots of family problem in the family going on and all that pressure was affecting me. I completed my B Tech and joined a small company and came to Goa. Those were the rainy season as we have now. And when it rains in Goa it pours around here.. For days people will not be able to get out of houses and all life would come to a standstill.. I so very hated the weather..

Once it rained for 5 days and no body could go out.. I just stayed in the house happily thinking of all the chhutti and the free time I will get away from office.. But the enthusiasm and happiness died around the second day.. By third day I was really irritated, angry and dark humored.. I cursed everything, my job, the weather, Goa, my fate, God etc etc.. While thus irritated I sat near my window and just watched the rain sheer frustration…

That’s when I saw them…

They were both an old man and his grand daughter who begged across the street and had taken shelter on one of the verandah nearby from the rain.. I was seeing them continuously for last 3 days and they had gone without food as there were no ‘business’ for them.. Their face looked pale and they looked famished…

All of a sudden the girl got up ran in to the rain and started getting soaked in to the purest of water and how happy she was.. Suddenly she started dancing..

The grandpa called for her and asked her to come in.. But no amount of cajoling or threat would work.. So the old man was forced to go out and drag her in..

When the old man reached her the girl held on to him by the trunk and pleaded with him to dance with her..

Slowly the old man danced…

thinking of all pain and tribulations that life has afflicted him with..

Remembering all the abuse that the society has heaped on him..

Feeling away all the insult and burden that life had thrown in his path...

Was he crying.. There was no way of knowing..

It was a slow form of intoxicating dance…

slowly, rhythmically he danced on.. With the girl shouting and dancing around him..

Suddenly his pace increased and the steps became faster..

It was as if all the pains, the trials and tribulations of his was being washed away by God Himself.. As if the downpour was sent by the Almighty to wash away all his pain.. Rejuvenate him… Resurrect him...

The pace got faster and now both the girl and the old man were dancing away frantically.. What joy, what rapturous delight… what unbound ecstasy both of them had on their face and on their entire being… the dance of the celebration of life itself continued outside…

Suddenly I found myself smiling all this while.. I was really surprised as I had not smiled or laughed for quite some time and was feeling stupid also to be laughing like an idiot…

Suddenly it dawned on me.. Its not the big thing in life like a good job, a better place, a healthy, fat bank statement, a snazzy standard of life which brings happiness to one’s life but it’s the small things in life like these which really makes life worth living.. and also to have the positive outlook to recognise this in all our pain, tribulations and trial… that’s what make life worth living…

suddenly I was crying like a baby…

I called both my teachers in side and served them food and with what delight and gusto they ate… as they wolfed down their food, I wiped my tears and made a resolution that day.. To be happy for each day of the rest of my life, to always be grateful to God and above all to have a positive outlook in life…

So the Shikha that you are looking for got lost somewhere that day and a new Shikha emerged.. I am just carrying out the promise that I made to myself on that day… it has made me happy to see myself making others around me happy and also being happy in their happiness.. I have also made a promise never to allow single moment of pessimism in my entire life and always to look at the brighter side of life… And that’s the whole story of the journey from the old to the new Shikha…

“All the while I was listening to her, I was amazed at the infinite possibility that human spirit is capable of and the huge transformation it is able to carry out in one’s own life as well as the lives of others. I was stirred and moved by Shikha’s story and really felt ashamed for avoiding her in the morning. Said Sudha Murthy

"This is my lesson in life for you. If you want to succeed and be a great man, unlock that goodness within you, that positive energy inside you, which will not only brighten your life but also bring happiness to others life because of you." She finished to a standing ovation from all audience

This is what Sudha Murthy told us one winter evening in January some 6 years ago.. It still echoes and reverberates in my mind and acts like a light post guiding my actions….

That was my first (and not hopefully last) interaction with Sudha Murthy. (For I look forward to meeting the great lady and thank her for making such a lasting impression on me and giving me a guiding light in my life). I have since then not met her or not read her immensely gifted books the latest of which is the “Gently falls the Bakuala”.

One important take away I have taken from that session with Sudha Murthy is thus:

"Never ever allow yourself to be bogged down by life for its you who has the capacity to overcome any odd successfully with a positive attitude, faith in the Almighty and a general goodwill to one and all"

How the city was pacified

I regularly get update from Paulo Coelho's web site and the latest one really touched me... Thought of sharing it with all of you. Here is the excrept of the tale " How the city was pacified" by Paulo Coelho...

"An old legend tells of how a certain city in the Pyrenees mountains used to be a stronghold for drug-traffickers, smugglers and exiles. The worst of them all, an Arab called Ahab, was converted by a local monk, Savin, and decided that things could not continue like that.
As he was feared by all, but did not want to use his fame as a thug to make his point, at no moment did he try to convince anyone. Knowing the nature of men as well as he did, they would only take honesty for weakness and soon his power would be put in doubt.
So what he did was call some carpenters from a neighboring town, hand them a drawing and tell them to build something on the spot where now stands the cross that dominates the town. Day and night for ten days, the inhabitants of the town heard the noise of hammers and watched men sawing bits of wood, making joints and hammering in nails.
At the end of ten days the gigantic puzzle was erected in the middle of the square, covered with a cloth. Ahab called all the inhabitants together to attend the inauguration of the monument.
Solemnly, and without making any speech, he removed the cloth.
It was a gallows. With a rope, trapdoor and all the rest. Brand-new, covered with bee’s wax to endure all sorts of weather for a long time.
Taking advantage of the multitude joined together in the square, Ahab read a series of laws to protect the farmers, stimulate cattle-raising and awarding whoever brought new business into the region, and added that from that day on they would have to find themselves an honest job or else move to another town. He never once mentioned the “monument” that he had just inaugurated; Ahab was a man who did not believe in threats.
At the end of the meeting, several groups formed, and most of them felt that Ahab had been deceived by the saint, since he lacked the courage he used to have. So he would have to be killed. For the next few days many plans were made to this end. But they were all forced to contemplate the gallows in the middle of the square, and wondered: What is that thing doing there? Was it built to kill those who did not accept the new laws? Who is on Ahab’s side, and who isn’t? Are there spies among us?
The gallows looked down on the men, and the men looked up at the gallows. Little by little the rebels’ initial courage was replaced by fear; they all knew Ahab’s reputation, they all knew he was implacable in his decisions. Some people abandoned the city, others decided to try the new jobs offered them, simply because they had nowhere to go or else because of the shadow of that instrument of death in the middle of the square. Some time later the place was at peace, it had grown into a great business center on the frontier and began to export the best wool and produce top-quality wheat.
The gallows stayed there for ten years. The wood resisted well, but now and again the rope was changed for another. It was never put to use. Ahab never said a single word about it. Its image was enough to change courage to fear, trust to suspicion, stories of bravado to whispers of acceptance. After ten years, when law finally reigned in Viscos, Ahab had it destroyed and replaced by a cross."

Love left us?

I was chatting with a friend who had a status message which said that marriage is the only war in which you have to sleep with your enemy.

This got me thinking... of course I am married ( no prize for guessing that....) so howz really my married life faring... does this statement has any buzz of truth in it...
and so I reflected on my 1 and a half years of married life and tried to seek some truth in the statement.. but alas.. I could not put a finger on any point in this period which even had an iota of resemblance to what the statement was trying to say...

Although I am a novice in to the world of marriage and the issues attached to it, I can perfectly well say that ours has been a fruitful relationship in which we are friends to each other rather than husband and wife... In which we share a camaraderie which is complete with bonhomie and a jest for life... The thing that really makes our relationship stand apart is the fact that in this short time, how well we understand each other, the small nuances of likes and dislikes... the small things which upsets us to no end... etc etc What I really enjoy in our marriage is the fact that we so love to pull each others legs... over one's mannerism.. one's snobbishness... I think the worst hit has been our Bhanjas whom we endlessly make fun and caricature of....

Long back (during my TISS days) I was reading one of the books by Paulo Coelho. (I think it was The Alchemist... those were the days when I had Devaji who used to be my room mate. Devaji was high on philosophy and enjoyed abstract art and writing. Since that day I have come to love Paulo coelho for his immensely inspirational, philosophical and 'loaded' books on life and consider Devaji as an elder brother and guide).

In this book the author narrates a small fable (I think some middle east fable) where a woman and man gets estranged and divorced. After their estrangement, one day both went to meet a holy man of great renown. The holy man was very famous for his deep insight in to human lives and intricacies of human relations.

They wanted to seek the blessing of the holy man and also to know about their lives more closely.

The holy man chatted for a long time without broaching for even a single moment about their estrangement. They discussed the weather, politics and religion among many other things..

It was long in to the evening and was time for them to leave...

They sough his blessings and were about to leave... Suddenly they heard the voice of the Holy Man from behind " So why did you leave each other" ...
This resulted in a heated discussion by both parties justifying their position and accusing each other of all kinds of vices possible which led to their estrangement...
"But my question is why did you people leave each other" asked the Holy Man in the same calm voice as before... The couple fell silent and remained so for a long time... May be they were introspecting....

A long time ensued and suddenly , as if by divine design, both of them simultaneously spoke out " "We did not leave each other.... but Love left us"

What an irony of life this is.... in real life its not individual who leave each other.. its not lover who fall out because of themselves... its is because at some point in our lives ,the love in our life leaves us... disappears leaving us loveless...

When one looks around one's surrounding we see failed marriages... family breaking like pack of cards... lovers shouting themselves hoarse on how unkind the other person have been...

In such a context how true does the word of the couple sounds even to this day....

"We did not leave each other.... but Love left us"

As I look forward to a happy, mature and fruitful relationship with my companion, my friend and my love... I just wish that Love never leaves us and that we are never left feeling loveless in our entire life.. Amen

The art of conversation

Yesterday was part of a small get together or 'Dawat' so to say in Urdu term. There were quite a few people in the get together but strangely apart from the normal exchange of greeting and pleasantries rarely people spoke with each other.. It was not as if they were not in speaking terms with each other, but all of them were glued to the T.V set which was showing the IPL or some Hindi movie... The only point of conversation also emanated from the visuals being seen on the T.V... of whether the decision by the coach of a certain team to have multiple captains was sensible or not... or whether the histrionics of some actor was better than some other actor etc etc... Nobody seems to be talking to each other on their own life, what their journey has been, or keen to understand what other is goin thru.. I am not suggesting in a sense to say that peeping in to anybody's life is what I would call an ideal conversation... But then talking about real person, real story would be so much more real and empathetic than just sitting around the idiot box and talking about people who matter very less in our life...

I still remember with absolute nostalgia the good old (pre television) days of child hood... when we would all gather at our Nana's place and all of our elders would sit in a circle after lunch or dinner and will have such hearty chat.. whether it would be friendly bantering between by my father and my uncle ( the popular Jija - Sala rishta comin in to force) or the michevious leg pulling conversation of my Khalu with his only Saali i.e my mom...

The conversation used to be so hilarious, that people will choke on their laugh while some will have tears in their eyes laughing continuously while some would just roll with uncontrollable laughter... simple things in life like mimicking some relative or some known person's mannerism or just the simple relating together of my Nana with his son - in laws as regards various anecdotes in the jobs of the later with the job that the the former did...

Even as kids we would roam around and play together.. while at the same time talking to each other about what we did in our schools, who all are the friends that we made and the new games we have learnt etc etc.. The conversation used to extend long in to night till our moms would forcibly put us in to beds to sleep...

Its not only the personal life that I find now to be affected by this lack of friendly talk and the gradual fading away of an art called the Art of Conversation.. Now everybody seems to be leading a virtual life... plugged to an Internet, people are clued in to the large global community and it is this place where socialisation is carried out.. umpteenth social sites like Orkut, Facebook etc have taken away from us ordinary mortals the gift of an Innocent conversation and may be somewhere along the line deprived the joy of a hearty laugh with a real human being for a change...

Memories of The Gambia, West Africa

For quite sometime, I have been trying to put together a travelogue sort of a thing stringing together my memories of our stay at The Gambia, West Africa. Here is an excrept of the same. I need your valuable suggestions and feedback for me to make it more readable and interesting.

"We shifted to our house at a place called Latre Kunda which was about 4-5 k.m from the school that my parents were going to teach. The house was a typical upwardly mobile West African House which had a tin roof and in side there was artificial ceiling. The house was inside a complex which had 2 other houses on either side of it and a drive way leading on to it. Initially we were the only occupant in the complex and alter joined by two of our other neighbours. We were at last happy to settle down in the house which we really liked a lot. The house was all furnished by the Jamat (community) and also had utensils and kitchen ware all purhased new and installed. The area market was just opposite to our house which had temporary as well as permanent vendors selling their stuff. The market resembled a typical African market where the temporary vendors had there products spread across a mat on the earth and most of them had clustered their product in to small heaps and sold those heaps at a given price. Very few people at all (only a few permanent shop had weight system). The market had a vegetable section, a grocery section, a fish and non veg section and a stationery and miscellaneous section. The market used to open at about 9 a.m in the morning and used to go on till 1 p.m in the noon. To avoid the mid day heat, the temporary vendors will shut shop at 1 p.m and will resume at about 5 p.m in the evening. The market had atypical smell of its own which used to be hot, humid and a peculiar characteristic smell – the smell of dried fish, groceries, palm oil etc all mixed up to give way to a heady smell. Here also people put up small road side stall selling minced beef balls soaked in palm oil and local condiments which used to be served with French loaf all for 50 Bututs (1 Dalasi = 100 Bututs). Besides there was grocery shops storing fresh French loafs directly from the bakeries which used to be treat for us because of its taste when taken with meat or chicken peas curry.

Whenever, we used to enter the market or go outside, small kids would rush to us shouting ‘Tubabs’ ‘ Arabs’ etc. The term ‘Tubabs’ meant foreigners and some people also mistook us for Arabs. My brother used to study in a nearby primary school and his fan following was to be seen to be believed. Initially we used to go and pick him up at the end of his school but later we just gave up as his journey from his school to our school used to be another freedom march of the Mahatma Gandhi where numerous school kids would accompany him and he will be there right in the centre smiling gloriously."

Gone are the old sweet days of childhood !

Childhood was such a nice joy ride for all of us. Those were the days when Television was just making its foray in to the still regulated Indian market. To have a television in one’s house was considered to be a real matter of pride. It so used to happen that in a given area or colony there was rarely a television set found in anybody’s house. Those who could afford the large, heavy black and white set were treated with respect and people used to make friends with the owners and tried to be in the right side of their humor.

It so happened that we were the few people who were treated with such respect.

The reason being that my Nana’s house had a big black and white television which was recently bought by my younger uncle and what frenzy that created…We waited with bated breath each time Sunday would approach as that would be the day when we would go bag packing to my Nana’s house early in the morning. The whole of our family would travel in hand pulled rickshaw and it used to be a long way from my house to my Nana’s house. We would reach their much to the joy and happiness of our uncles, aunties and cousins. My mother’s grandfather's’s house was just across the boundary wall and my special friends were the sons of my mother’s aunt. I would immediately jump and go to their house which will put my grandma in a fit. Once I am on the other side, we would have a whole lot of game laid out in front of us from which we had to choose. There was kite flying by my young uncle Nasir, or marble playing by my buddy cum uncle Papu.

However, television programme used to be the winner hands down!

What joy it was to see Star Trek, Spider Man , Vikram and Betal etc on a Sunday along with home grown serials like Hum Log, Buniyaad etc which were quite in demand during the early days of television in India. The special attraction came in the evening in the form of Hindi feature film at 5.45 p.m . before that they showed a sports based programme called ‘ World of Sports’ which my uncle watched keenly as he himself was a national level badminton player.

Our Nana’s T.V room used to be filled up to full capacity by evening time as the entire neighbourhood will pour in to watch the movie. People will watch through advertisement, umpteenth announcement to be able to watch the movie. Advertisements and other announcements was considered as a necessary evil, an useless distraction in the noble pursuit of watching the much awaited movie.

Those were the days when the only channel used to be the state sponsored channel Doorodarshan which did not have lots of programme and also the number of T.V transmitting stations were few in number. So people used to have long. Spooky T.V antenna’s being supplemented by T.V Boosters all in an effort to enhance the T.V signal. Due to lesser number of programmes the T.V channel used to work only at specified time. People would switch on their T.V much before the programme started and would also watch through the agriculture related programme ‘Krishi Darshan’ just to be able to see their film song based programme ‘Chitrahaar’.

One of my favorite programme used to be Spider Man, which is the old cousin of serials like Shaktimaan. But unlike the newer generation we never used to jump off buildings thinking ourselves to be ‘Spider Man’!

The ultimate fun was on festival days when they would show a good movie related to the occasion or the religious background.

The most boring time were the National Days when the channel used to invariably show Richard Attenbrough’s “Gandhi” which even a kid could guess if asked about the movie that they will run.

There used to be lots of anticipation among movie freaks during election days, as the whole day used to be filled with Hindi movies and they also showed latest movies too.

In those early days of television, renting a VCR (Video cassette Recorder) was a matter of dreams for youngsters like me. We used to have VCR along with Video cassette of latest movie rented during festivals at our Nana’s house. Thing used to come to such a pass that, because of the demands of such commodities in the rental market, it had to be returned on time failing which (even a delay of 5 minutes) used to result in the penal of actually paying for the entire next days rent too. To avoid such a situation, all of us cousins used to watch all the movies throughout the night and the determination with which we did was unparalleled compared to our efforts in studying for exams too!

In today’s era of multiple channels, each competing and vying for viewers attention and TRPs, our childhood seemed a distant story located in some fairyland where innocence had its place under the sun and the mind was still unadulterated...

Varun Gandhi and the politics of hatred

Recently joined a discussion forum on whether we should ban Varun Gandhi for his inflammatory speech or not. Here is what I had to say:

If we as a country pride ourselves on the rich democratic tradition and secular values, then in my opinion Varun Gandhi should be banned immediately.The reason being that Varun being young and highly educated, the people of this country had a lots of expectation from him and the least they expected was for him to behave in the most irresponsible way that he has done in the last few days.

Before people rush and start supporting Varun Gandhi, lets just go back in history to the time India got independence. At about the same time two nations emerged - India and Pakistan with dreams on their eyes and hope for a better future than what their lots have had till date. In Pakistan the government and people of that time opted for Pakistan to be an Islamic republic while India opted to be a democratic secular republic. It is not that in India there was no pressure from fundamentals group to give precedence to religion over state. But great leaders and visionaries like Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, Sardar Patel and others stood their ground and weathered the conflict to preserve the secular nature of India. Hence the India which all of us see as the great melting point of all culture and all religion is due to the perseverance, tolerance and foresight of the people of this country which makes it such a great nation.

The very fact that we are sitting calmly in the nice confines of our homes and discussing this issue threadbare goes to prove the secular and democratic nature of this great country. otherwise we would have been dodging bullets of terrorist, or the army or bombs triggered by some militants if we were like Pakistan, which has lost all originality and sovereignty as a country being hemmed by all sides by Taliban, the military, U.S, the corrupt selfish politicians etc.In such a scenario if we have to preserve our secular fabric and culture and the very freedom which we pride ourselves with, then we'll have to curtail the advance of extremist forces like Varun Gandhi coz he represents not an organisation but a thought process which is very dangerous to the very existence of our great country.As we brace up to curtail his fundamentalist march, India remembers with dread what Varun Gandhi Sr. did in his hey days some 30 years back. May we never see such a day coming to pass."

As an Indian who is trying to unravel the mystery of my own country thru readings by great author like Ramchandra Guha or William Darylmple, I occasionally get alarmed by the sudden rush of extremist wind over this country which fundamentally (through ages and centuries) been secular in nature. It has silently weathered ravages of numerous foreign invasion but in the end ended up being the victor in culturally assimilating what is good in these races and cultures. The United States may pride itself for being the oldest democracy but in my opinion India had in built democratic values from such a time when the nationhood of the U.S even did not see the light of the day.