WTF

Two and a half years ago, I wrote a blistering blog post ranting about Indian politicians. Yet again, they had allowed disaster to hit Bombay, and yet again their response was ridiculously inadequate. Well, here we go again...

Allow me to recap:

In 1993, Dawood Ibrahim and his thugs blew up 250 people, and injured thousands. Mumbaikars reacted like heroes, ordinary citizens rushed to help the injured. The next day everybody went about their jobs as usual, they were not going to let the biggest terrorism attack in India stop them.
Our wonderful government responded by
(a) praising the 'resilience' of Mumbaikars and
(b) whining about how Dawood Ibrahim was the mastermind behind the attacks, but Pakistan was sheltering him.

In 2005, unprecedented rainfall caused massive flooding , leaving hundreds dead, widespread property damage and a paralyzed city. Mumbaikars reacted like heroes. Ordinary citizens organized rescue attempts, and lined the streets providing food, water and shelter to stranded folks.
Our wonderful government responded by
(a) praising the 'spirit of Mumbai'
(b) acting surprised that it was possible for this amount of rainfall to occur (it had only occured seven times before)
(c) acting surprised that such rain could cause so much damage in a city that is damaged every year by regular rainfall
(d) acting surprised that they were expected to have a plan to deal with it
(e) claiming that it was unrealistic to expect the disaster management team to get together during ... a disaster.


In 2006, a whole new generation of terrorists brought bombs to Mumbai, this time in trains. As in any large city, the public transportation system is the lifeblood of Mumbai. A bomb in a train is a truly egalitarian bomb, it targets rich and poor, Hindu and Muslim, men and women, college students and retirees. By now Mumbaikars knew the routine. They pulled bodies out of trains, drove the injured to hospitals, and streamed out into the streets to help the affected.
They told each other how resilient they were and boasted of the spirit of Mumbai, and talked about how they would all go back to work the next morning. The stock exchange shot up to prove its confidence in Mumbai.
Nobody particularly expected the government to do or say anything. But out of a sense of obligation, the government went through its old tired routine
(a) praise resilience
(b) blame the Pakistani Intelligence Service (ISI), indulge in some blustering and empty threats.
(c) announce large sums in compensation to victims and their families.
(d) wait for commotion to die down and carry on as always.

This time is different. I feel it in my bones.

For one thing this long, drawn out standoff -- in the full glare of international media -- has been a public humiliation for India. Our myth as an up and coming superpower was busted. I have the greatest respect for our troops and national security guards and they acted with great courage. But as the 3 day drama unfolded, it was abundantly clear to anyone with a TV, that we were completely out of our league. A handful of boys with guns landed in our largest city with bags full of explosives. They marched into our fanciest hotels and shot our rich and powerful at will. They wandered from one murderous job to another, completely unmolested. They hijacked a police van - a police van for crying out loud! They took a small building with maybe 10 hostages and it took us two days and six lives to free that building. They wandered around shooting up our most famous hotel for three days, and we were powerless to stop them, free the people inside, or even know whether the hotel was safe. A handful of boys with guns kept our commercial capital hostage for 3 days.

Nobody had the luxury of surprise this time around. Bombay has been struck twice before. There have been several terrorist attacks all over India this year. There was no excuse for the complete lack of forewarning, the complete lack of security and the completely shoddy response.

And of course, the targeting of foreign nationals has a clear psychological impact. It will definitely erode international confidence and cause real and lasting financial damage.

Most importantly, when the politicians go up on stage to offer another round of platitudes, they will find that the resilience of Mumbaikars has worn thin. They are finally tired of walking around wondering what will blow up next.

I hope that tomorrow, instead of going back to work as usual, Mumbaikars come out in the streets and go on strike. I hope they remind the government that its first job is to protect its citizens. Above all, I hope they remember that they are citizens of a democracy. Which means that they are the government and are ultimately responsible for all its failings and when the government is broken, it is their job to fix it.

November 4, 2008

It was 10 pm Pacific time. I was at a friend's house, watching the election results come in on her crappy TV (no cable; just scratchy, over the air network television). She had gone to bed but I stayed up, fingers crossed, switching channels, hoping against hope. And then, they called Ohio. Ohio went for Bush, Florida went for Bush, and before my unbelieving eyes, Americans elected Bush to the White House for four more years. This time around there was no excuse, no hanging chads, no partisan judges. Americans had voluntarily and decisively brought Bush back into power. And I went to bed, a little sad, a little worried and a lot disappointed.

Tonight was very different. The clock struck 8, polls on the Pacific coast closed, and instantly, CNN handed CA, WA and OR to Obama, and declared him "President Elect". Obama wins by a landslide, with more than twice the electoral votes McCain received. However he has a heavy burden on his shoulders. Extremely high expectations that perhaps no one can live up to. He has won the campaign and now the real challenge starts, and he will need to prove that he can act as well as he talks. There may well be disappointment in our future.

But for tonight, I am going to bed a little happy and a little proud, my faith in humanity a little restored.

Let's pretend this is my diary

It is 6pm on a lazy, rainy Saturday in November -- and this is going to be one of those stream of consciousness posts. You have been warned.

I have missed out on several blogging opportunities this year. I did not blog about the upcoming elections, or my recent trip to Greece, or about sunny San Diego or my friend's newborn kid or another friend's wedding. For that matter, I did not even blog about my own wedding or honeymoon! And now, it is too late. The window of opportunity has passed, along with the window of enthusiasm. Instead, here I am, with itching fingertips, yet no stories left to tell. But I can't turn away, the desire to talk, to say something -- is too great. My heart is filled with that strange emotion I can never find a name for, but which comes over me every once in a while. You know what I mean -- the sort of feeling that engulfs you when you are sitting around a campfire in the middle of the night. Or in a rocking chair by the window on a rainy evening. You want to speak so badly, speak about serious things -- not silly stuff -- but stuff you rarely out loud. In fact, things you just don't know how to say out loud, you feel them inside of yourself, but you lack the language to articulate them.

It has been a strange week, I have seen myself reflected in different people's eyes, and am left wondering who I am. Who I am, who I am pretending to be, and who I want to be.

And just as I write this, my husband comes scurrying in like an excited school boy. He wants to show me what he just made - a wood threading tool. Except the demo doesn't work quite so well, and he goes back to his woodshop, still excited but a little subdued.

And I'm sure there is a great moral lesson I can draw from all this, but I have no idea what it could be.