Friends...Amardeep Bassey and Nausad

The ochre hills are dry and bare. Swirling gusts of wind and dust chase each other around, like carefree urchins playing tag. Neither house nor tree as far as the eye can see, and a lonely road that stretches from horizon to horizon. And on that roadlurches and loiters a beat up Toyota Sedan, both diffident and determined in the same burst of combustion. And perhaps with good reason, for this car was passing through the Khyber, a region that has come to be known as the most dangerous place on the planet, between the lawless Federally Administered Tribal Areas (FATA) in Western Pakistan, and Afghanistan, a region at the forefront of the war of and on terror, a red-zone if there ever was one.

Inside, next to the driver sat a man whose modest salwar-kameez belied his aristocratic bearing. He turned oft en to speak to a man in a skull cap sitting at the back. Next to him sat a boy who was trying hard to look like a man. The one in the skull cap seemed nervous, constantly pulling his right sleeve, trying his best to cover the kada (a bracelet worn by Sikhs) on his wrist. The next moment, the image went off the screen and was replaced by a commercial… I was watching an episode of ‘Jailed Abroad’, a programme on National Geographic. And though I usually restrict myself to recounting first hand experiences on this page, what I saw last night was a story worth telling, and those of you who might have missed it, missed out an important lesson about the paradoxes and prejudices of our times.

In the May of 2002, Amardeep Bassey, a British Sikh of Indian origin, investigations editor with The Sunday Mercury, wanted to make his way into Afghanistan for a story about the common Afghan’s life after the war. He met a Pakistani human rights activist in Peshawar who asked him to meet a certain Naushad Afridi, son of a tribal chieftain from the Khyber. Bassey left Peshawar and reached FATA. The Pakistan administration had little control over the tribes and warlords operating in the region. Bassey was on his own. He reached a dilapidated building where he was told he’d find Naushad. He was asked to wait. While he waited, he must’ve been a very nervous man. Daniel Pearl had been murdered mere months ago. Western journalists were aware how dangerous missions to these regions crawling with al-Qaeda loyalists and sympathisers could be. This was as good a time as any for militants to get their hands on a western journalist, truss him up before a camera, make some demands and finally behead the poor chap like a sacrificial lamb. Bassey knew that even one wrong move could well be his last.

While Bassey waited, he thought of his friends and family back home and wondered if he would be able to see them again. Just then, a tall slim chap walked in with a group of people. Though dressed like the others, he stood out because of his demeanour. He looked like a man who knew his way around. “Salaam walaikum! I’m Naushad. What can I do for you?” said the man as he extended his hand. Bassey greeted him, gave him his references and asked if he could helphim get to Kabul and back for his story. After some deliberation, Naushad said, “You are a brave man to have come this far. I’ll be your guide.” While they were shaking hands, Naushad happened to see Bassey’s kada and warned him, “People here have been conditioned to believe that any one who isn’t a Muslim is actually an enemy. So be careful.” Naushad asked him to replace his western attire with a salwar-kameez and a skull cap. And to keep his kada hidden all the time. They partied a bit in the evening with a local sugarcane brew and next morning, the two of them, along with the much younger Khitab Shah headed off for the border. On the bus, grim thoughts accosted Bassey and he kept wondering how real the dangers of this mission might be. He turned to Naushad and shared his concerns. “We’ll see what happens,” said Naushad, “but whatever happens to you will happen to me first. We’ve had fun together, so when trouble comes, we’ll face it together”. Though it sounded like rhetoric, Bassey felt at ease.

There was a big crowd at the border gate. Incidentally, the Pashtun tribals who inhabit both sides of the Afghan-Pak border do not require a visa to cross the border. But unlike his guides, Bassey was no tribal and was feeling rather apprehensive since he only had a single entry visa for Pakistan. However he’d been told that they’d return through a different route used by opium smugglers, and that wouldn’t require ‘papers’. So he just “went with the flow”. Soon they were in a cab that was heading towards Kabul which is where the commercials interrupted the story.

In Kabul, Bassey interviewed everyday people about their life after the war while Naushad acted as interpreter. Next day, with his interviews done and notes in place, Bassey joined Naushad and Khitab in a taxi that was to take them to the Pakistan border. Halfway through the journey, Naushad and the driver had an altercation… apparently the Americans were scrutinising the check posts on the route used by the opium smugglers, anticipating the movement of a large number of jehadis. So they had no choice but to go back the way they’d come. Bassey was worried. He knew he would be in trouble if the authorities check his visa but Naushad told him that they didn’t have a choice and he would definitely know someone at the border who could get them through.

At the border though, Bassey’s British passport drew unnecessary attention and the duty officer at the border took him across to the Military Intelligence office. There, the officer-in-charge, after being apprised of his visa issues, lookedat Bassey’s name and his watch which also happened to have a camera, and concluded that he was an Indian spy. Bassey protested in vain. The officer was sending Bassey to jail. Then the officer turned towards the two Pathans and said they were free to go. Naushad stood up and said, “We’re not going anywhere. This man is our guest and is under our tribe’s protection. If he goes to jail, we go with him”.

Naushad had met Bassey less than 48 hours ago and knew practically nothing about him. As far as he knew, he could well have been an Indian spy. The maximum punishment for espionage in Pakistan is death. Naushad and Khitab knew what the consequences could be, and they knew little about the man they were standing by. And yet, without batting an eyelid, they went to jail for Bassey. Amardeep Bassey spent 28 days in jail, some of them in solitary confinement and others in squalid concrete cages packed with hardened jehadis and bandits. A Westerner and a non-Muslim, Bassey felt like a lamb trapped between a pack of wolves. Inside the cell, tall gaunt men with long fl owing beards and piercing eyes looked down their hawkish noses at Bassey. One look at them and you knew these men had known war, death and desperation, and they hadn’t tired of it yet. He was even asked to convert by an al-Qaeda operative who was a gang leader of sorts in one of the jails, but Bassey respectfully but firmly refused. His courage surprised both of them, but Bassey knew his strength stemmed from the presence of Naushad. The Pathan, son of a tribal leader, was suffering the ignominy and uncertainty of incarceration for the sake of Bassey, his guest. And he was doing that because of a centuries old, pre-Islamic code of honour – Pashtunwali, the code of the Pathans – which amongst other things, states that every Pathan should offer help and protection to those in need and especially to strangers and guests, and even die for them if need be.

Twenty eight days later Bassey, thanks to diplomatic maneuvers, was finally released and deported but the two Pathans were still in jail. “Turning my back on them is the hardest thing I ever did,” said Bassey. But he wasn’t given a choice. The two of them were released a week later.

Bassey and Naushad met again in 2008 and embraced each other like brothers. Today, the two, a Pakistani Pathan and British-Indian Sikh, share a friendship that runs deeper and further than the Ganges. As the programme drew to a close I realised how recent lore has demonized these brave people from ‘the most dangerous place in the world.’ Perhaps it is the same code of honour that prevents a Pathan from giving up on another guest, even if did blow up a tower or two.

While drones rain down on their homes and their children toy with automatic rifles, the paradox of the proud Pathan chained to his code of honour lives and grows amidst the din of battle. Perhaps it is up to people like Bassey and Naushad to talk to their worlds and help them understand and appreciate the other and dispel the fears and prejudices that stoke the fires of hate on both sides of the divide.

(courtesy: PRASHANTO BANERJI AT 9:47 AM
LABELS: IIPM, PLANMAN, PRASHANTO BANERJI, THE SUNDAY INDIAN

I cant help but reading again...

1. Sail Away
2. Salutation
3. Senses
4. She
5. Silent Steps
6. Sit Smiling
7. Still Heart
8. The Gardener XLIII: No, My Friends
9.

The Gardener XLVI: You Left Me

10. The Gardener XLVIII: Free Me
11. The Gardener XX: Day After Day He Comes
12. The Gardener XXIV: Do Not Keep to Yourself
13. The Gardener XXVII: Trust Love
14. The Gardener XXVIII: Your Questioning Eyes
15. The Gardener XXXIV: Do Not Go, My Love
16. The Gardener XXXVIII: My Love, Once upon a Time
17. The Gift
18.

The Last Bargain

19. The Lotus
20. Threshold
21. Where Shadow Chases Light
22. The Source

I just love to read these...

By Rabindranath Tagore
1. Defamation
2. Clouds and Waves
3. Endless Time
4. Dungeon
5. Face to Face
6. Fool
7. Give Me Strength
8. Let Me Not Forget
9. Little Of Me
10. Lost Time
11. Lover's Gifts LIV: In the Beginning of Time
12. Lover's Gifts LII: Tired of Waiting
13. Lover's Gifts LXX: Take Back Your Coins
14. Lover's Gifts V: I Would Ask For Still More
15. Lover's Gifts VIII: There Is Room for You
16. Lover's Gifts XIX: It Is Written in the Book
17. Lover's Gifts XLII: Are You a Mere Picture
18. Lover's Gifts XLVIII: I Travelled the Old Road
19. Lover's Gifts XLIII: Dying, You Have Left Behind
20. Lover's Gifts XXVIII: I Dreamt
21. Moment's Indulgence
22. Paper Boats
23. Parting Words
24. Patience
25. Playthings
26. Prisoner
( source: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem)

Keep t Up!I

I used to call my pals when I became frustrated or in a catch20 situation… but recently I understood that I should not do it. In spite feeling my feelings most of the time they think myself a spineless character. And who wants to see him/herself as spineless. I am not. Now I try to face / fix all my problems by myself. And I think, it is making me professional with my feelings, too.

Probably this is a curse than a gift… but the world demand this… I never thought that I would be able to sort out my heart’s feeling by my brain.

However, keep it up as at least people will not bored by you!

But one thing… do not forget those people who really want to by your side always… without any intention or vested interest… we should properly differentiate them at the crowd!

Asia should rebound in 2010

‘Asia should rebound in 2010’

Indo-Asian News Service
BALI, May 4: Developing countries in Asia should be able to rebound from the global economic crisis and reach six per cent growth next year, the president of the Asian Development Bank (ADB), Mr Haruhiko Kuroda, said here today.
Growth in the region was expected to fall to 3.4 per cent this year from 6.3 per cent last year and record a growth of 9.5 per cent in 2007, Mr Kuroda said.
"With strong national and regional efforts and a mild recovery expected in the global economy next year, developing Asia should bounce back to six per cent growth in 2010," Mr Kuroda said at the opening of the bank's annual meeting.
"Therefore, this should not be a time of despair," he said. "Our region continues to grow and will remain the touchstone of dynamism and hope, contributing substantially to global growth and poverty reduction."

India
The Indian economy will recover from the slowdown in the second half of 2009-10, thanks to the strong domestic market and improving financial sector, investment bank Goldman Sachs said today, according to a report from New Delhi.
"We expect a recovery in activity in the second half of fiscal 2009-10, led by a pick-up in domestic demand amid the loosening financial conditions," Mr Tushar Poddar, an economist with Goldman Sachs, said.

Bengal's Dismanl Economy

Bengal’s dismal economy

Remaining at the helm of West Bengal’s financial affairs at a stretch since 1985 as the finance minister, Asim Dasgupta presented his 24th budget for the state on 20 March. During his long stint he evolved attractive ideas like zero deficit budget, alternative budget etc. to usher in alternative path of development following the “socialistic” ideology of the CPI-M.
The interest that these ideas once evoked has, however, evaporated with the passage of time. Presently Dr Dasgupta himself does not utter these illusive words. Now his annual budget speeches are more or less repetitive of the yesteryears and hence boring; they are only jugglery of words and figures to hide the realities.

HIGH INDEBTEDNESS
According to the latest estimates of the RBI, West Bengal has a total debt of Rs 1.47 lakh crore, including small savings loan of Rs 61,000 crore and market loan of Rs 31,579 crore. It means, 8.5 crore of the state’s people have a per capita debt of more than Rs 17,000. Among the states, only Uttar Pradesh and Maharashtra have larger indebtedness, although both have larger areas and population than West Bengal.

In order to reduce the states’ indebtedness and their fiscal imbalance, the Central government introduced the FRBM Act three years back. It provided opportunity to the states to be relieved of Central loan to the extent they would reduce their fiscal deficit. But unlike other states, West Bengal could not utilise this benefit. On the other hand, the state has indulged in gradual rise in its non-developmental expenditure, particularly in escalating its salary and pension bills.
Around 2001, the state government’s expenditure on this account was 155 per cent of its own tax collection. It has, however, managed to bring it down to 90 per cent, first by ceasing and then minimising government recruitment. In the comparable other states, this ratio varies between 55 and 70 per cent. Such a massive unproductive expenditure naturally leaves a paltry sum for the state’s economic development.
Dr Dasgupta, in his budget speeches, never mentions such huge indebtedness of the state nor ways to reduce it. Rather he always speaks high of the state’s economic growth, which, according to him, is more than that achieved by the country as a whole. The question then arises, what benefit has it brought to the state. A state’s high rate of economic progression should be reflected in its growing tax effort. But this is only 4.5 per cent in West Bengal, when the same is 8 to 10 per cent in other big states. Even in Orissa, it is 6.67 per cent.

This lowly mobilisation of its own tax resources not only points out its backwardness in industrial and commercial activities, but also makes the state dependent on external sources of finance, creating uncertainties in its economic planning.

LOW INDUSTRIALISATION
In the election time, Dr Dasgupta and his party comrades are lamenting the shifting of the Tata Motors’ Nano car plant from Singur to Sanand in Gujarat, pulling up the Opposition for its “irresponsible” protests.
But what about the 2,126 big and medium industrial units which have been shut down in the state during resistance and opposition less 32-year rule of the Left Front government? The number of closed small-scale industrial units is about 55,000. Is not the irresponsible and destructive trade unionism of Citu responsible for most of these closures? Besides, why are 80 collieries and 32 tea gardens closed?
Presently, West Bengal contributes only 4 per cent of the total industrial output of the country, which was 18 per cent in 1965 when the state achieved industrial supremacy. Since then, even in its own income, contribution of industry fell drastically from 36 per cent to only 11 per cent.

Moreover, whatever industrialisation the state has achieved, it is mostly concentrated in and around Kolkata. To be specific, 87 per cent of the industrial units in the state are localised in the five districts of Howrah, Hooghly, Burdwan and North and South 24-Parganas, apart from Kolkata. As commercial activities evolve around industries, most of the districts have poor growth of business and commerce as of industries.
It has resulted in a low rate of urbanisation in the districts away from Kolkata. In fact, in nine such districts, rural people constitute 90 per cent or more of the total population. This could be described as some sort of “ruralisation” that the state has achieved instead of urbanisation over time. It has created enormous pressure on agriculture for livelihood making it almost a subsistence work to many farm dependent people. Non-viable agriculture has compelled many to leave farming and become wage labourers.
Failure of the state to provide public irrigation and rural electrification, the two vital ingredients of Dr Dasgupta’s “alternative way” of development, keeps village people jobless over a larger part of the year.

UNEMPLOYMENT
The state government has failed to consolidate the gains from land reform measures of its initial years through setting up industries, particularly of the small scale type, by ensuring infrastructural development.
As compared to similar other states, West Bengal lags behind in road and electricity. Its per capita use of electricity, 380 kwh, is only above Bihar while the national average in this respect is 81 times higher.Similarly, Gujarat and Karnataka, with population being less than 39 per cent and 34 per cent, respectively, have more than 49 per cent and 135 per cent surfaced road, respectively, than West Bengal. Likewise, Maharashtra, with only 16 per cent more population, has 544 per cent more surfaced road than West Bengal. Thirty-two per cent of its villages still do not have all-weather roads.

The infrastructural deficiency has constrained economic development in West Bengal only to generate huge unemployment, the official estimate being 70 lakh. In relative sense, it has 26.6 per cent of rural unemployment and 24.0 per cent of urban unemployment. These are the second and the fifth highest among the comparable sixteen states when the respective national average is 11 per cent and 15.4 per cent.

It is surprising that rural unemployment of 31.27 lakh in West Bengal, unlike most of the other states, is higher than its urban unemployment. Moreover, its educated unemployment, amounting to 33.50 lakh and comprising 11 per cent of the total of the country, is also relatively high among the states. Among all the states, West Bengal, with an average unemployment rate of 4.93 per cent a year, is only behind Kerala which has 5.56 per cent of such rate.
Dr Dasgupta has the only option of self-help groups to provide jobs. He speaks of lakhs of such jobs each year, but never mentions how many of such groups can repay bank loans or stay viable for long. Joblessness brings in poverty which is almost one-third in the rural and one-fourth in the urban areas of the state with the proportion of population remaining starved or half-starved in a year reaching the maximum of 13 per cent among the states.
In fact, one important reason of closing down of so many of small scale industrial units in the state could be lack of demand in the villages plagued by a high rate of poverty and unemployment.
Thus, Dr Dasgupta’s repeating claim of the state achieving a high rate of economic growth has failed both to mobilise adequate revenue and to reduce unemployment through planned economic development. So the growth, if real, has been jobless and hence not inclusive, a charge he often puts on the Centre regarding growth of the national economy. His budgetary outlook needs to be changed.

(The writer is Reader of Economics, Durgapur Government College)

Section: Perspective Date:May 06,2009

I threw it all away

or 

I had been thrown from everything

- no matter what happened but I am not going to lose myself... am I?

I Threw It All Away / Bob Dylan

I once held her in my arms,
She said she would always stay.
But I was cruel,
I treated her like a fool,
I threw it all away.

Once I had mountains in the palm of my hand,
And rivers that ran through ev'ry day.
I must have been mad,
I never knew what I had,
Until I threw it all away.

Love is all there is, it makes the world go 'round,
Love and only love, it can't be denied.
No matter what you think about it
You just won't be able to do without it.
Take a tip from one who's tried.

So if you find someone that gives you all of her love,
Take it to your heart, don't let it stray,
For one thing that's certain,
You will surely be a-hurtin',
If you throw it all away.

I was sitting back in my chair at my chamber.

A little girl was saying something to her mother excitedly. Probably she was trying to make something understand to her mother by moving her little hand along with tiny figures. Gesture was very attractive. The mother was listening. I could not hear any voice. There was much noise around. I was trying to understand what she wanted to say. A smile was on my lips.

Boss called me. I was on my way. I saw her closely. Probably I wanted to see her.

The eyes of the girl was completely 'white'. I looked back. I inquired to my attendant about them. The mother came for some help... any help!

I thought.

I forgot.

Those 'white eyes' trailed me.

SREE said '' do not think (at this moment) , do not forget ever (the white eyes)"

Regards or Regret

I have regards to some of my regrets.
I should regret for some regards.

The Road Not Taken / Robert Lee Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I know.
somehow I believe.
habitually I forget.
often I forgive.
least I surprised.

Closed Path / Rabindranath Tagore

I thought that my voyage had come to its end
at the last limit of my power,---that the path before me was closed,
that provisions were exhausted
and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity.

But I find that thy will knows no end in me.
And when old words die out on the tongue,
new melodies break forth from the heart;
and where the old tracks are lost,
new country is revealed with its wonders.

Ilfe is interesting

Yesterday at evening I was roaming over the flyover of our town. My friend was on phone. A boy was standing near by me. A girl came.

I noticed them.

After two minutes the boy disappeared. The girl was still there.

I ignored.

After a few minutes, the boy came. They talked. The boy again disappeared.

I observed.

The girl started slowly on foot.

My cigarette was exhausted. I put it down and kicked my bike.

The girl was standing. She was weeping.

I turned back.

Gently I ordered her not to cry. She stopped. She gazed. She was looking terrible. I asked her about name bla bla bla... she answered slowly... after a small muteness I requested her to go back home... she started... the last words I used 'be confident, be carefull'.

I returned to my room.

I didnt want to come back so soon. The room is big. A lot of things which can entertain me. I came unscrewd the vodka. Called my friend. No need was there to call. But I did. The muteness kills me. Every thing was there. Every thing is there. 'SREE' is not. I used to call her so. I believe she is mine. I dream she will call me. But the muteness kills me.

At 9:30 pm I called SREE. As usual she didnt answer. It was expected. But I did, I will.

Today, morning!

The newspaper says that a girl of my town killed herself yeastenight. The paper published a photo of that girl. I knew her. I met her. At the flyover.