Decrypting the message from Howrah

IN EARLY JUNE by-election results from Bihar and Gujarat took a large slice of news coverage. Relatively under-analysed was the Howrah Lok Sabha constituency by-election in West Bengal. The Trinamool Congress retained the seat by a reduced margin, beating the CPM candidate by 27,000 votes. The Congress, which had supported the Trinamool in 2009 but put up a spoiler nominee this time, walked away with 10 per cent of the electorate and about 96,000 votes. To be fair, it was a close call. The BJP has pockets of influence in Howrah, an industrial, urban district just across the river from Kolkata. It did not put up a candidate. As even senior Trinamool functionaries admitted, the BJP could have pulled in “at least 30,000 votes”. No doubt not all of these would have come at the expense of Trinamool. The Congress would almost certainly have lost some of its eventual voters to the BJP. Nevertheless, what was in the end a conclusive victory for Prasun Banerjee—the former football star who is Trinamool’s newest MP— could well have been a close call. What does this by-election result tell us of Mamata Banerjee’s political situation? A detailed look at the Howrah verdict would suggest Trinamool has lost votes in the urban areas, and declined from its maximalist peak in its south Bengal bastions in 2009 and 2011. However it was so far ahead of the CPM in urban seats in and around Kolkata that a marginal decline in vote share makes little difference. In the one rural segment of the constituency, Trinamool has done well, indicating it is still the rising force in rural Bengal, and still seen as the new energy that can displace an old order defined by the CPM. Finally, in one assembly segment dominated by Muslims, Trinamool led by about 10,000 votes. Howrah is only one seat. It is hardly representative of all of Bengal. Even so, it is all we have with us and all Ms Banerjee has with her. What do the numbers add up to? What do they foretell, if anything at all? In 2009, Trinamool and the Congress fought the election together. Of West Bengal’s 42 Lok Sabha seats, these two parties won 25: 19 for Trin-amool and six for the Congress. The SUCI, a third party in the alliance, won a single seat. The Left Front was reduced to 15 seats, its worst performance in over 30 years. The BJP won one seat, Darjeeling. As the Howrah election makes apparent, there is still a persuasive argument to be made for a tie-up between Trinamool and the Congress. Arithmetically, this combination is very strong. In the recent by-poll it could have given the Trinamool candidate a 100,000 vote victory. In 2014, it could reduce the Left Front to 10-12 seats. However, politics is not just arithmetic, it calls for chemistry, too. A year ago, Ms Banerjee took a call that the Congress was a sinking ship, was vastly unpopular in Bengal and the rest of India and would pay the price for 10 years of incumbency. She walked out of the UPA government, accused the Congress of corruption, misgovernance, economic ruin. For better or worse, she has been consistent in that position. For her to approach the Congress now for an alliance is extremely unlikely. It will make her appear fickle. Also, it will allow the CPM-led Left Front to take advantage of any anti-UPA mood in the Lok Sabha campaign. What happens if there is a threeway contest? Political assessments are bleak for the Congress. On its own, with the bulk of party support having migrated to Trinamool, the Congress can achieve little. It is relevant in, really, two districts—Murshidabad and Malda—along with neighbouring North Dinajpur. In Malda-North Dinajpur, the Congress has three MPs, including two current Union ministers. Ms Banerjee cannot replace the Congress here but can hurt it. The advantage in these north Bengal constituencies will then swing to the CPM, which has been trying to upstage the Congress in Malda for years. In such a scenario, the Congress, left alone, could well be reduced to a two-three seat party in West Bengal and would be facing permanent and irreversible atrophy in the state. The BJP, presumably led by Narendra Modi, would obviously not repeat its Howrah favour and would want to put up candidates across the state to exploit its national mascot’s perceived appeal. This could give the BJP one or two seats (including Darjeeling, which it already holds) but also take away votes from all other parties, including the Congress in urban areas. If the two national parties win say four or five seats between them, what happens to the rest of West Bengal? It is a fair estimate that the remaining 37-38 seats will be divided nearly equally between Trinamool and the Left Front. The cracking of the grand alliance of 2009-11 will allow the CPM to if not recover ground at least arrest decline. As such, it is possible the Left Front may win a seat or two more than Trinamool or a seat or two less. Will this mean a Trinamool defeat and a CPM recovery in the 2016 Assembly elections? Not necessarily; it depends on whether Ms Banerjee holds her nerve. The CPM continues to face challenges in Bengal as to its leadership and its programmatic identity. Also, it is likely what little remains of the Congress will inevitably move into the Trinamool embrace after 2014. This will make Trinamool a formidable force in 2016, though admittedly not an unbeatable one. The big question before Ms Banerjee is this: does she want to cripple the CPM in 2014 or does she want to destroy the Congress? The first entails going back to the Congress alliance but will revive a troublesome ally. The second offers a high risk-high gain alternative. That is the message from Howrah. The decision Ms Banerjee takes will have implications well beyond West Bengal. It could revive or damage the Congress as the fulcrum of a possible coalition in New Delhi in the period after the coming Lok Sabha elections. It could potentially give the Left Front and the CPM a shot in the arm at a time when it seemed to be losing everything and enhance its capacity to do business with the Congress and build an alliance of like-minded parties in national politics. It could leave the Trinamool itself poised between playing a big role in the capital and risking a perhaps temporary setback. That’s quite a packet of consequences from just one by-election.

Gurcharan Das looks back at his life and choices

I was born in undivided India, in what was known as Lyallpur (Faisalabad) named after the Lieutenant Governor of Punjab John Leyland. We were a middle class family and my father an engineer in the Indian government, involved in building the Bhakra Dam. When I was 13-years-old he was transferred to Washington DC to defend India’s interest in the canal water dispute—the Indus Waters Treaty. Thirteen was an important milestone in my life—it is when my pucca Punjabi childhood ended. More of that later. Before I entered the teenage my maternal grandfather was an important influence in my life. After the India-Pakistan partition my father who was an engineer with the Punjab government moved with his family to Shimla. Till my Washington days started, as I said, I had a pucca Punjabi childhood. I spent most of my childhood with my mother’s family, as often happens in India. My maternal grandfather was a lawyer and a prominent influence on my life. However, when I look back I see that my father, too, had left his imprint on my beliefs. He was a mystic—a mystic engineer if you will! Jokes apart, he was a deeply spiritual man. While my peers travelled to Missouri or Dalhousie for their summer holidays, we (my brother and I) headed with our parents to an ashram. My father and mother would engage in meditation whilst my brother and I would play cricket. I remember several afternoons spent rushing after a deuce ball to prevent it from going into the chamber where the satsang was being sung. Instead of rebelling against my father’s mysticism, I ended up with a fair amount of respect for people who are religious although I am not a religious person. I developed a deep respect for Hindu philosophy and religions. I believed that the mental experiments of seers and rishis—mentioned in the Upanishads—were mind boggling. At the end of the day, I am an agnostic. I have not given up on the possibility of god but I have seen very little evidence of it. I spend as much time thinking about God as an ordinary person does (which I realise is a small amount of time). I am really a humanist, I have been influenced, too, by the old fashioned liberals such as Ram Mohan Roy of Bengal. However, when you are abroad you start asking questions about your culture, tradition, history and religion. My interest in Sanskrit was a knee-jerk reaction to the fact that I was abroad and that I was an ambassador, of sorts, of my country; at least I felt that way sometimes. So when I received an opportunity to study in Harvard after school, I was interested to explore as many papers, subjects as I could. I started out at Harvard with the full intention to study engineering. I told as many people as I could that I would be an engineer, then moved very quickly to chemistry. Because one of the professors in the chemistry department was a gentleman called James Watson—a Nobel prize winner and the Watson of the Crick-Watson Helix duo. But one summer in India reintroduced me to the idea that I came from a poor country and I shifted to economics. Afterward, I discovered architecture. I took a course on comparative literature and also on Greek tragedy. I read Proust and Madame Bovary. The luxury of doing undergraduate studies in Harvard was that there was the luxury of doing as many papers as possible. My parents were rightfully driven crazy by my shifts and after a while I stopped telling them about what I was doing. My mother thought I had gone nuts. Finally my degree was in western philosophy and I wrote my thesis paper on Aristotle. I think I had a good liberal arts education—I read a lot not only the stuffs you were sup-posed to read but other stuff as well. I was very lucky to get the chance at Harvard and the scholarship. If you are an Indian then you are grounded in the philosophy a little bit—maybe it goes back to my mystic father. I was about to do a doctorate in philosophy when that summer I asked myself whether I wanted to inhabit that stratosphere of thought, divorced from the mundane realities of life. I came back home, unemployed at the age of 20. Every day someone would ask me to get a job and one day I landed a job working for a company that made Vicks Vaporub. Mid-career I revisited Harvard to get a business degree. The day I left college I knew I was going to write. In my twenties I did three plays. The first one won the Sultan Padamsee Prize of `10,000—a big deal to me! Theatre Group in Bombay performed it and Oxford published it. Meera—a mystical play about Meera Bai was produced in New York where my company had sent me. By then I had become a weekend writer—I would sell my product and write with equal earnestness. So, my third play was the longest running play by Yatrik. Sunit Tandon directed it and Bhaskar Ghose, Kusum Haider were also involved in it. In my thirties I wrote A Fine Family and then got too busy as I was also a CEO. But when my friends played golf, I wrote. If you really want something then you make the time— writing is as much a job as any other. Six o’clock in the morning I am writing at my desk and there I am in the study till noon. It is only after 2pm that I start my other life—after a swim, lunch and newspaper reading.

DR ARBIND PRASAD// Such sports frauds are unfortunate and this spot fixing scandal has created credibility deficit on the governance of sports as a whole in the nation. It has hurt the sentiments of sports fans. FICCI had started talking about regulation few years back but now with re-emergence of this spot fixing scandal, it has become all the more important. FICCI believes betting should be legalised and regulated with law against sports fraud, if we want that people to have faith in the conduct of any sport in the country. We as a society and as a nation need to understand that it is inevitable and we need to regulate it. We need to understand that legalising and regulating sports betting might not completely solve the problem of fixing, but it will make it easier to track, investigate and catch anomalies and at the same time will make it less lucrative. The police, then, will no longer be involved in the preventive action but only in regulatory action. It will be more of a business transaction the way it happens in the share market. Bookmakers will be required to keep proper records of the transactions that they are involved with and know the identity of those with whom they are gambling, which is the key to ensure that sports fraud is detected and dealt with. Tracking cash exchanges among betting agents will be easier and when there's a greater fear of getting caught, it can translate into lesser illegal activities such as fixing. In fact license holders will themselves ensure and create systems where sports fraud would be very difficult as their licenses would get revoked, if they were found flouting the rules. This process is possible only after legalising and regulating betting. We at FICCI also believe that legalising will benefit sports as a whole and create interests in sports in general. There will be a demand for real time information on previous games, statistics on all the players, any changes or injuries to the current players, new player statistics and more. This will lead to creation and analysis of databases of various sports and sports persons which will benefit sports in general. Moreover there is going to be the accountability for large amounts of money transferred through illegal channels and reduction in cases of sports frauds like match fixing, money laundering and crimes. Besides, it could potentially fund sports development, social protection or welfare schemes and infrastructure development plan besides employment generation as in many other countries. Take the example of Britain. It has a gambling commission that regulates sports betting. Revenues generated are used for sports development, as all elite sports are funded by lottery funds. This process will help clear a lot of clutter because regulation is going to highlight problems and issues that had previously gone un-noticed. There will be a control over the money flows through black market. Besides, legalising and regulating betting will reduce event of match fixing, bring to limelight criminal bookmakers, there will be proper know your customer norms. Most countries that have permitted gambling/ Betting have statutory regulatory bodies/ gambling commissions created by the state which is responsible for distributing licenses to betting operators. The regulatory body will have an important role in examining license applications from third parties. The national regulatory body (a body at the central level) could regulate disputes, where violation/breach involves more than one state’s jurisdiction. These could have the power to null and void a particular bet, power to prosecute or seek cooperation between states as well formulating guidelines and dispensing information to the public about betting including listing events on which bets can be placed. The regulator will have powers of entry and inspection into the operator’s premises. Where problems are detected, the regulator will have powers to impose conditions on operators, together with a range of regulatory remedies from warnings to financial penalties, removal or suspension of a license and even criminal prosecution. We understand that betting comes with a social cost and can lead people to addiction, which in turn can lead to harming themselves or the loved ones. It is perfectly legitimate for members of the public to have different moral views either in favor or against betting/gambling, but we cannot neglect the fact that it is a social constant despite several attempts to ban it. As a democratic country, we should ensure that the public has the freedom of choice. That is why we need to ensure that there exists a framework designed to protect the young and vulnerable and to ensure good law and order before even licensing. Moreover, revenue generated by sports betting would go toward rehabilitation/ de-addiction and education programs for compulsive better/gamblers besides sports development. It happens like this in many other countries. According to a KPMG study, betting market in India is `300,000 crore, with a possible taxation revenue of `20,000 crore with moderate tax on profits. But legal sports betting would provide a new source of revenue from a huge pool of money that now flows untaxed to unlicensed offshore of Internet sites or to illegal bookmakers, many of whom are allied with organised crime. This implies taxation revenues for Government, and more money for sports development which can be distributed between Govt. of India, National Sports Development Fund (NSDF), States who legalise it and National Sports Federation and the most importantly to employment generation and flourishing of an industry. One must understand that betting is prohibited on a game of chance and not on a game of skill. Horse racing and rummy, for instance, are games that require great skill; hence betting on them is legal. Sport betting requires know how of players, their previous track records, playing conditions and much more which makes it predominantly a game of skill and chance plays a very small aspect in the game. Hence there is no reason to not allow betting in football and cricket. In fact, this is the pre-text on which FICCI has put forth its representation to the government. This clarification was also mentioned in one of SC’s judgments. But most importantly, even before we start talking about the increase or decrease of fixing, we must understand why fixing is done. This is done to earn abnormal profits by managing outcomes. If one can’t manage this outcome, he would not be able to earn abnormal profits. So in case of regulated betting, regulatory commission / nominee would define the rules regulation and type of betting and not the fixer. Hence general public will prefer to bet on an officially recognised betting platform and will avoid route of bookmakers, nobody wants to associate themselves with criminals. Moreover, public will have incentives in placing bets with licensed operators. Therefore, as customers will move towards the legitimate regulated industry, the volume of betting and money will move away from the illegitimate industry— it will choke the supply of liquidity to the dishonest operators and thus will reduce sports fraud like match fixing.

In the past decades, controversy has proved to be cricket’s wicked twin. It wasn’t long ago when the former Indian captain, one of the finest batsmen of all times, Mohammed Azharuddin was accused of fixing matches. As the CBI investigated, they caught hold of a bookie, Mukesh Gupta a.k.a MK, who spilt the beans about the scandal—and eventually several big names such as Ajay Jadeja and Ajay Sharma came into light as well

APRIL 7, 2000: South African Captain Hansie Cronje is charged with fixing ODI matches against India. At first, the captain denies the allegations, but later admits to his misdeeds. He is sacked. The Kings Commission is set up by SA, Cronje admits to taking large sums of money. He faces a life ban. NOVEMBER 27, 2000: Azharuddin is found guilty of fixing matches. While others like Ajay Jadeja, Manoj Prabhakar, Ajay Sharma and Indian physiotherapist Ali Irani are found guilty of having links with bookies. Azhar and Ajay Sharma are banned for life. MAY 16, 2013: Delhi Police arrests three Rajasthan Royal bowlers: Sreesanth, Ajit Chandila and Ankit Chavan. They are arrested for allegedly fulfilling promises made to alleged bookies of bowling a bad over each for a large return sum. BCCI suspends the three players. Gurunath Meiyappan, a top official of the Chennai Super Kings franchise and son-in-law of the BCCI president N Srinivasan, is arrested by Mumbai Police on charges of cheating, forgery and fraud. Srinivasan steps aside temporarily. In a time like this, when the BCCI is trying to clean up the fixing mess, many want betting to be leaglised. There is a belief that legalising is the answer to the betting woes of cricket, as setting up a legal framework will help keep a tab on the activity. But then there are those who believe that gambling is a product of human greed and there is no cure for it. The question that arises, then, is that what is the way forward? Should betting be legalised? Is there an alternate solution? DW asked experts Desh Gaurav Sekhri a sports attorney with J Sagar Associates and Dr Arbind Prasad, Director General, FICCI, for their opinions. DESH GAURAV SEKHRI// Betting in sports is an uncertain science—given the parity on the playing field if everyone performs to best of his abilities. With a rise in the disposable income and a growing awareness of individual statistics and fantasy leagues, betting in sports is becoming popular. A league format such as the IPL is the ideal forum for betting, given the number of guaranteed opportunities to support a team in a short time-frame. So, to ensure that the odds are in the favor of the bookies, bookies may make efforts to spot-fix or match-fix, so that the result is ensured in their favour, making the conducting of betting a more profitable occupation. Another reason why we see the increase in the fixing activity is because players who are given their twominutes of fame feel that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity to make money beyond their playing abilities. Being exposed to so much wealth, the demonstration effect probably takes a toll on players who aspire to be wealthy, and the question of patriotism probably doesn’t cloud anyone’s thoughts because they represent teams and not their country or state. With demand for ensured results meeting a supply of individual fringe players, there has likely been an increase in the fixing activity. However, the solution to the problem is not so simple. People are talking about legalising betting, but I think it is not the magic wand, everyone is assuming it to be. It’s not that I think that betting should not be legalised—I have no problem if it is legalised, and it may in fact be a good thing for Indian sports. But, I don’t think that legalising betting will necessarily be the solution to nefarious activity that we are witnessing recently. Legalising betting has its merits if one were to look at possible revenue from legal betting, and the possibility of centralising information on betting activity for a future regulatory body, in sports, to be able to monitor. Having said that, both practically and from an enforceability standpoint, legalising betting will not reduce the dangers of corruption in sports. Nor will it be able to fulfill the function of being a proxy watchdog for monitoring criminal activity in sports. I feel legalised sports betting will have limited success in India. Also, I feel that by legalising betting without strengthening enforcement measures such as legislation to punish offenders, or strengthening compliances governance measures at the central and team levels, corruption may actually rise, as bookies and involved parties take all the measures possible to ensure results that suit betting odds. Let’s not forget that in many ways India is a conservative society; merely by legalising sports betting into the mainstream, we can’t expect everyone to immediately cross over. It’s not feasible. So, what will happen is that there will be two parallel betting outlets functioning simultaneously—the legal betting outlet which will have its barriers to entry (for example, minimum age, citizenship, origins of the money, and the risk of the information being tracked and placed in the public domain), and the illegal outlet with no such barriers to entry. What we need instead is a legislation that focuses on good governance and stipulates punishment for unethical activity in accordance with the nature of the illegal activity is a must. Without a law that looks into these specific activities, it will be difficult to curb corruption. We must be careful however of not over-regulating sports. There are many processes that have to be improved to reduce corruption. First of all, the player auction needs to be replaced with a draft so that there are wage floors and ceilings to protect players. Then, there needs to be a player-agent certification process that necessitates certain qualifications for any player’s agent to be able to perform the fiduciary responsibility the agent owes to his client— similar to FIFA and the North American leagues. It is also important to initiate a player’s representative body which advises each player on legal, financial, and personal matters by empanelling professionals. Further, this body must position itself towards collective bargaining between players and the team owners. Good governance and level playing field negotiations will be a benefit for all those with a stake in any sports league in India. And, for the overall sports domain, it is important to consider a regulating body that looks into sports-specific egressions, including the enforcing of violations that are either contractual, or if the anti-corruption law is enacted, of enforcing it on a case by case basis. These are just some of the measures I can think of, but a lot needs to be changed to ensure that positive perception and good governance become the mainstays of Indian sports. An example of Britain is being quoted by many, that when they could clean up their system by legalising betting, why can't we do the same? Let me tell you, legalising betting is not the solution to cleaning the system. Britain may have legalised betting, but it also has numerous compliances and processes that it has incorporated in its numerous leagues, which are what prevents unethical activity. And let’s not forget that corruption in sports does happen on occasion in Britain despite all of this. Also, it’s an apples to oranges comparison, because the landscape differentials between India and Britain are sizeable. Britain has a much smaller population with a rich and long history of professional sports leagues for decades. In India we already have a network of illegal betting outlets which must be tackled, regulated, and then future corruption possibilities eradicated. To clean a system consisting of unregulated illegal betting/potential fixing and with an exponentially larger population than any European or even North American country won’t be an easy task.

Lessons from the IPL

OVER THE PAST month commentators have been lamenting the commercialism of India’s cricketing scene, especially, the messy underbelly of a circus called Indian Premier League or the IPL. IPL’s tales of sleaze, match fixing, etc., are potboiler material, subplots in a larger saga about the thirst for quick money, political connivance, and corporate patronage. But—and this is the point of this article—the IPL’s rise despite all its sordidness, is not just a morality tale about the excesses of greed and power (which it is), but also about the tectonic cultural and attitudinal shifts that have occurred in India in just over two decades. The brashness of the IPL does not exist in a vacuum. The spectacle caters to a demanding consumer base with tastes akin to audiences of an NBA and European soccer leagues. But this is where things get tricky. The NFL, UEFA soccer leagues, etc. have emerged out of long sporting histories, and are embedded in consumer cultures dating back over a century. India, which has a different history of capitalist enterprise—with half-a-century of economic tepidity followed by rapid growth—is witnessing new patterns of cultural production and consumption which yet to be deciphered. What is clear is that this has resulted in the emergence of new social groups that are globally aware and employ new cultural vocabularies. It could be argued that these are the constituencies for whom the cheerleading culture is created in India. When viewed this way, the IPL is a punctuation mark. It is emblematic of the emergence of deeper cultural attitudes that have accompanied the rise of the Indian economy. India’s deeper transition is not just economic and institutional—at its core, attitudinal and cultural. For a variety of reasons associated with the character of the economic reform process initiated in 1991, the vanguard of many of these cultural changes is urban India, especially Indian metros, which have changed dramatically since India’s growth story began. Take Delhi. What was until the late-1980s a bustling administrative city still basking under a colonial hangover in a shroud of Punjabiyat is now a centre of business. Puppies (prosperous urban Punjabis) in Karol Bagh have slowly ceded ground to yuppies (young urban professionals). The city is witnessing new forms of enterprise and human ingenuity that were hiding behind the Licence Raj. Fueled by a construction boom, Delhi is now a nucleus of big business investments and an advertising industry that is aware of its newly-acquired importance. As a result, self-conscious displays of wealth have replaced the relatively unaffected forthrightness that earlier characterised Delhi-ite sensibilities. It is clear that such patterns are not limited to Delhi alone. With the exposure of India’s evolving middle-class to western consumer culture, the Internet, and the immediate accessibility of global brand names (with the clichés that these are associated with), mobile Indians are creating a whole new aesthetic and aspirational vocabulary. At its best, this vocabulary is liberal and progressive, with an active citizenry demanding inclusivity, transparency, and accountability. At its worst, however, it is spawning consumerist excess, and a cacophony of icons, all in the service of brands. When viewed through this lens, the IPL embodies the more pernicious elements of this new cultural vocabulary. How do we make sense of this vocabulary? In 1975, Italian intellectual Umberto Eco wrote an essay called Travels in Hyper-reality, a meditation on the American appropriation of icons, images, and symbols from Europe over the 20th Century. He commented on how these gestures hollowed-out the very qualities that had made these cultural forms objects of value in Europe. Leonardo de Vinci’s The Last Supper, when recreated in 3D by theme parks in the US and presented as an ‘improvement’ over the original is, for Eco, a destructive gesture because it is manipulative and fundamentally lazy. This is because those doing the imitating fail to develop forms of representation and practice that are an outgrowth of their own cultural constructs, values, and history; all in the pursuit of a thrill. Eco laments the structural logic of American capitalism because of the way it treats culture, recreating that which is more real than the real thing (hence hyper-real), and then mass-markets it for profit. Isn’t this the logic that drives the IPL? This machine, sustained by the BCCI’s oligarchs, employs the swagger of jingoistic nationalism, disingenuously invokes the loyalty of “India’s billion fans”, and uses cheerleaders drive the point home. The real point, as with the many sports leagues, is to fetishise celebrities, sell commodities, and create a consuming public. Like those it is imitating, the IPL engages in “hyperrealistic” practices all too visible in the ubiquitous presence of the sponsors, celebrities endorsing a variety of slick brands, and the decibel levels generated by the event managers. The cricket feels incidental to the whole production. Of course, slickness is no justification for the creation of enormous social pressures generated as a result of India’s attempt to squish the equivalent of a century of capitalist development into a few decades. It is clear that because of India’s distinctive history and cultural heterogeneity, its people will respond in different ways to the cultural churn that is accompanying its economic transformation. And as the IPL example demonstrates, the transplantation of socalled “American” and “European” business models of sports entertainment into the Indian context does not always bring out the best in us. Having embarked on the path to economic liberalisation, Indians must not lose sight of the socio-cultural implications of such a directional shift. For those basking in the prospects of India’s economic growth, it is vital that they look past their spreadsheets to better grasp the cultural implications of emerging prosperity. Tapping the potential of an economic ideology is all very well, but this potential also has social and attitudinal facets. What the IPL’s present state does is remind us, for better or worse, of their ubiquitous presence in our lives.

Vimlendu Jha’s team at Swechha is working to make education, & environment projects sustainable

“I am a pessimist activist,” says Vimlendu Jha, the founder of Swechha, a Delhi based, youth-run, and youth-focused NGO that deals with environmental and social development issues. In the past 12 years of their existence, Swechha has tirelessly worked on several projects. Swechha was a pioneer of the We for Yamuna campaign, a movement to save the dying river which is the lifeline of our city. Every monsoon they plant almost 2,000 trees as a part of their Monsoon Wooding Campaign. Through its Pagdandi initiative, the team has been reaching out to thousands of slum children and facilitating their access to education, health, hygiene, livelihood, life skills, environment and sustainable living. The list of their projects—as we pointed out—is rather long but Jha and his volunteers believe they have an equally long way to go. “There is nothing to celebrate—yet.” The reason: “The state of the river is still what it was 12 years ago.” Some twelve years ago, a 20-year-old Jha, a firebrand idealist, burning with the desire to do something for his city, decided to raise his voice against the pathetic state of the Yamuna. What started as an unorganised youth movement, in which most youngsters gathered to express their frustration against the vague thing called the ‘system and administration’, soon became an organised movement—as the voices started reaching the right places and the right people. Not just organisations such as the United Nations, but also the Indian government started expressing its desire to start a dialogue with the protestors. As the movement caught momentum, Jha realised that he needed to give the campaign a shape. Otherwise, that, like any other movement, would eventually die a slow death. So Swechha was born. Jha, who had taken a year off from his studies, had to go back to college and complete his degree. Leaving Swechha in an infantile stage, he packed his bags and left for Mumbai to graduate in social work. By the time he returned to Delhi, Swechha, the We for Yamuna Campaign, it had lost its initial connect. Therefore, Jha was forced to take up other jobs. He worked for another NGO called Youth Reach for sometime and then he worked for a bank, but the whole time he was not happy. He missed his baby, Swechha. Jha decided to quit and get back to his NGO roots and start afresh. It was from the year 2004 that Swechha really started its work. They decided to work through three dimensions. One was Children Active Citizenship, second was Youth in Civil Society, and the third was campaigns and workshops they would organise from time to time. Over the years, several programmes have been introduced under these dimensions. Like the aforementioned Pagdandi initiative or the Bridge the Gap initiative which is a special curriculum designed for schools. The curriculum aims at reducing the gap between mankind and the biodiversity surrounding it. Both these initiatives fall under the sphere of Children Active Citizenship. Other initiatives like Influence which is a Youth Environmental Programme through which they educate and encourage young people to act on environment and sustainability issues is a part of Youth in Civil Society initiative. Other than the various programmes that they run, they also make documentaries, and almost all of their documentary films have won awards. They organise exciting trips to the originating point of the river Yamuna, it is called the Yamuna Yatra. They also take nearly 50 volunteers on a village tour, where these volunteers develop an understanding of village life, spend time with the villagers, interact and get a closer view of rural life. Looking at all their programmes, one thing becomes clear; the organisation is comfortably funded, because these initiatives are money intensive. Vimlendu says that they have made all their money themselves. “Initially, we did not need much money, at night we would make paper bags and in the morning we would sell them at Dilli Haat, and that would suffice.” But then they reached a point where they needed to make more money, and staying up all nights wasn’t an option. So they organised workshops and charged for them. They organised Cyclothons, Yatras and charged for all these things. This brought financial stability. “Eighty per cent of our money comes from the self sustaining practices, and the rest comes from the funding we receive from our various partners like the UN, the European Commission, the American Embassy and Nokia, which has always been a big supporter.” Despite the toil and generous funding, capital, according to the man, is always the trouble area. And he blames the India Shining façade for it because the country’s image of a prospering nation stops the foreign investors from putting in their money. Then he blames his lack of grey hair. “Ten years ago, I had no grey hair! Therefore no one trusted me. (laughs) It was difficult to keep myself motivated, no one trusts the young in this country,” says Jha, who now, thankfully, has a few grey strands, and presumably better funding. However, he says, that there is a lot more that can be done. The ‘We for Yamuna’ is actually the “We for a lot of things,” he says. That is why, he can’t celebrate anything. The river, as mentioned earlier, still needs cleaning; the governments are still as pathetic in their attitudes, there are still so many children who need to go to school and there are so many environmental concerns that have to be addressed. Till all this is done, there is not going to be a moment’s rest in Swechha.

Mission, Character, Service, and Getting the Job Done

“THE LEADER’S Code” is a unique book by a decorated US Marine Corps veteran Donovan Campbell. Campbell is a management and technology consultant and author of New York Times best selling “Joker One: A Marine Platoon’s Story of Courage, Leadership, and Brotherhood.” He has served three combat deployments in Iraq and Afghanistan. In his latest book The Leader’s Code the author reveals virtues that hold up impressive leadership. The book, unlike other leadership guides, offers a practical action plan that can be used in day-to-day life where leadership skills are required. The author, in the book, covers professional as well as personal life of an individual. Taking cues from his life during olive green uniform the army veteran comprehensively narrates military servant-leader model. As per the model the first responsibility of a leader is his mission, followed by his team. He himself is a distant third. With this model he tries to explain the concept of self-sacrifice, which is lacking in today’s leadership. Talking about the foundation of servant-leadership, Campbell highlights six key attributes: humility, discipline, wisdom, excellence, kindness and courage. He has beautifully drawn lessons from his time in the army, history, scripture and business.The author narrates how to develop virtues in order to take leadership with confidence, conviction, and passion. Campbell states that true leaders foster fellow feelings for others and they act to achieve quality in whatever they do. They are the people who always know how and when to self-correct and are moderate in their behaviour. Campbell’s search for these essential attributes is diversified. He takes it from the office boardrooms of some of the world’s successful enterprises to the Infantry Officer Course. Some of the attributes are picked from the 12-week training that American Marines use to prepare their leaders to sacrifice for the welfare of others. Globally, including America people have little faith left in the political and business leaderships of the country. Most of them are seen as greedy, selfish, incompetent, hypocritical, criminal, shortsighted or all of the above. Due to this widespread breach of trust in leadership people have started losing faith in many of our basic institutions. The people, however, still respect Army for their commitment and willingness for sacrifice for their country. Campbell, no doubt has written a brilliant, profound, all-inclusive scrutiny of leadership and leaders. The key teachings can be well taken and well articulated, are relevant at home, within the ownership, and as well as in professional life. The Leader’s Code is an essential book for anyone worried about today’s leadership crisis in our country and communities.

A moving book but not everyone’s cup of tea?

WHILE LECTURING our tiny class of 16 students, sociologist and author Andre Beitelle had remarked, “There are two types of people in this world. Those who like a happy ending and those who prefer a less happy one. What you read determines who you are.” He was speaking in half-jest, of course, while trying to make us see the alleged “beauty” in Max Weber’s Protestant Ethic and Spirit of Capitalism, eminently more confusing when compared to the easy-peasy read of Emile Durkheim’s Five Rules of Sociological Method. Our good professor was joking, yet I believed he had made a wise statement. Books we read—ones we keep going back to— manifest how we are as people. Do you see what I am doing here? I am pulling a Linda Goodman. I am stating that if your afternoon demands an Agatha Christie along with an accompaniment of pickles— or if you read The Book Thief too early in the morning and looked haunted for the rest of the day—or never read one of the Great Books at dusk; you must be a biped! (Personally, I never read a Marquez too late in the morning or a Coetzee too early in the night.) After reading And the Mountains Echoed, I’ve decided— well, not to read another Khaled Hosseini, altogether. Unless I can help it. Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with Hosseini. The fault lies (squarely) with me. After much introspection I’ve come to realise that as a particular “type” of a reader / person, I can not (and I have tried really hard) invest myself into Hosseini’s narrative style as faithfully as he demands of me. I am a Hosseini first-timer. Not having read the earlier (equally hardhitting I am told) Kite Runner or A Thousand Splendid Suns there is no point of reference, for me, to the author’s usual “style”. So, it would be foolish and arrogant on my part to comment on readers / people who take an interest in stories which Hosseini presents, and so, no ‘hardhitting’ analysis here. But having read the book, I am left with a niggling feeling that Hosseini’s readers come from the “western” part of the world. While reading an earlier interview, my suspicions were partly confirmed. But Hosseini is not only read by a chunk of western audi-ence, he is also a gateway for a lot of Afghan expats scattered across the world. The author is a ticket “home”, and the good doctor plays his part earnestly. No one can blame Dr Hosseini of trying to “fake it”. A humanitarian with an international repute, born and raised in Kabul, Hosseini is not out to exploit situations or his people for the sake of his stories. It does seem that his intentions are to put stories of his people out there. The problem is how he chooses to do so; via a merciless piling up of tragedies till a reader gets a little paranoid to turn the page and—I am embarrassed to add—just a little bored and jaded. I am more than vaguely aware of the state of affairs in this world. Yes, our world is tough—merciless, if you will. There is demise—of people, relationships, meaning—everywhere. Does that mean that there should be death of pithy writing as well? Does every event need to be hammered out over five pages when five lines could suffice? And The Mountains Echoed fell short of my expectations as it dragged on, mulling over tertiary, secondary stories to ultimately lose the main plot which was to be the story of brother-sister duo Abdullah and Pari. And The Mountains Echoed started beautifully enough, full of promise, with a nursery rhyme and a magical and poignant bedtime fairy tale told by a father to his two children. As I progressed through the chapters, I lost myself in a labyrinthine network of secondary stories and somewhere in the middle—I lost my patience as well. At the end, I was moved, till I felt like picking up Laleh Khadvi’s The Walking again and give that a thorough read. Once more, it is not Dr Hosseini’s fault. He is just not my mid-morning or midnight author.

From the tea gardens, to beaches and British bungalows, Sri Lanka has a lot to offer

If you think of Sri Lanka as a miniscule island that lies to the south of India, you may be right, but if you think that it is too small to offer much diversity, you had better plan a trip there sometime soon. Because if indications are anything to go by, the somnolent country that battled its share of political problems and come out a winner, could be the next hot destination for the international set, and then, the present sleepy charm of its towns and villages will change forever. I had always thought of Sri Lanka as the tiny country cousin of giant India. A week on the island, and I’m embarrassed at my warped perspective. “Our society is composed of Arab traders, Sinhalese Buddhists, Malay soldiers, British, Dutch (Burgher) and Portuguese settlers, Parsees, Afghan moneylenders, Sindhis, Memons, Bohra Muslims, Tamils including plantation workers and many others,” says Ghazzali Mohideen, General Manager of Cinnamon Lodge, Habarana, a resort of stunning beauty, that has been created inside a forest. Mohideen has conjured up a magnificent lunch for me, as an introduction to the cuisine of his beloved Sri Lanka that has a slightly rustic touch in deference to our surroundings amidst nature. With the wealth of sub-cuisines and subtly different styles in Sri Lanka, I am dismayed to learn that Indian food is much in demand. I mentally make a note to avoid it to the extent possible. “Just don’t get invited to a Muslim wedding,” Mohideen laughs. “The food is 100 per cent Indian: mince samosas, biryanis, kaliyas, even butter chicken is the order of the day.” The seaside town of Bentota and the southern tip of the island, Galle, are the catchment areas for recruiting chefs in the hospitality industry, so according to Mohideen, what passes for Sri Lankan food is actually the food of these regions. Indeed, during my stay at the Cinnamon Grand, Colombo, the cooking demonstrations by Chef Anil Rodrigo showed me curries and mellams (chutneys) that were spicy yet made use of a melange of spices. “Cinnamon goes into just about every dish in our cuisine,” he tells me. Indeed, the name of the chain of hotels is far from random. Cinnamon, the bark of the eponymous tree, grows only in Sri Lanka and nowhere else. “Cinnamon has to be distinguished from its close relative, cassia bark. Cinnamon is far more lively than cassia and once you’ve used it, cassia doesn’t seem all that attractive a flavour.” Outside the hotel, the first thing that strikes me is the diversity. Some parts of capital Colombo are like Panjim and others like Kochi. Not surprisingly, considering that it takes longer to drive to the airport than to fly from some airports in South India to Colombo. It’s not just about being located on the seaside—the fact that the Dutch left their imprint gives it a deliciously familiar flavour. Yet, unlike Christian Goa or the three religions of Kerala, in Sri Lanka it is Buddhism that has shaped the graciousness of the people just as much as the location of their city by the sea has shaped its fortunes. The one fact that impressed me about Colombo was the shopping. Walk into Odel, a colonial bungalow turned lifestyle store and you will go mad at the sheer wealth of clothes to try on, books to read, handicrafts and spa products made in Sri Lanka. Unlike India where ‘export rejects’ are rather grubby and are sold from sheets spread out on pavements, Sri Lanka has a decidedly more sophisticated way of handling their export surplus. They are sold in apparel stores—Odel is the most upmarket and stylish, but there are others as well, known to all taxi and three-wheeler drivers. Colour-coordinated and hung neatly in rows, according to design and style, you could be in a London branch of H&M except for the unbelievably low prices. Sri Lanka is a well-known manufacturing source of readymade garments for the international market, and not only for tropical wear: I reached home with ski jackets, woollen caps and trendy gloves, sold around the year. Then there is the Noritake porcelain that is manufactured in Sri Lanka and sold in a couple of dedicated stores in Colombo; style shops of which Paradise Road and Barefoot Gallery are the best-known and supermarkets where you can browse around for ingredients for cooking simple curries once you are back home. Cinnamon – the real spice, not the thick, rough cassia bark that is from the same genus but a different species—grows a little inland from Bentota. Through a supremely resourceful friend in Colombo, I managed to visit Habarugala near the Kadirigale Mountains where the Mahawila Estate was located. A plantation owner has a certain ring to it that conjures up images of landed gentry sipping gin and tonics on the balcony of their countryside villa, but that was assuredly not the case with the humble plantation owner who took me around his estate and then offered me tea and orange cream biscuits in his house. In the next room, his wife cooked the family’s lunch on firewood made of the branches of cinnamon bushes after the all-important bark had been stripped off. Take a short drive into the interiors from Colombo, and you’ll feel that you’re in the lush verdant villages of Goa, but before your eye can register the mango trees jostling with the coconut palms and bright bougainvillea counterpointing intensely white cottages, you’re in Kandy, a charming hill town that could be Mount Abu. There’s a tiny lake with enormous religious significance, the Temple of the Buddha’s Tooth and a form of architecture that would not be out of place in a small town anywhere in upland India. The snacks that you see on the road are different too, and they’re so delicious that it would be a crime not to try some of the coconut-based sweet treats sold in tiny stalls and supermarkets. But we’re not making a stop in Kandy for very long, for we have to climb up a mountainous road to Nuwara Eliya. It turns out to be my favourite place on the island, both for its altitude and for the ‘cloud forests’ that I see for the very first time in my life. You’ve heard of a rain forest. Well, a cloud forest is perched on the very top of a hill and can be seen from lower down the opposite hill. It looks as if fingers are being run through its hair all through the day, because the rain-bearing clouds that hover around Nuwara Eliya’s hills usually move majestically low, so that the topmost branches of the trees gather the moisture from the clouds, hence the name. I had never heard of the phenomenon and was quite content to be transfixed to an easy chair in a small British-style bungalow while my travelling companions went around the tea gardens to see how tea was grown. Sri Lanka has beach towns, the most famous of which is Galle; an elephant orphanage; a sizeable population of wild elephants; Buddhist temples and pilgrim spots; a tea industry that puts ours to shame, so well is the product packaged; a home décor industry that gives its large northern neighbour a run for its money; shopping that offers world-class products at unbelievable prices and a cuisine that is a melting pot of flavours brought in by the Dutch from Malaysia and from Gujarat in India yet is identifiably Sri Lanka.

Need wholesome food served with a smile? Head for Imperfecto

Me: “You are a little mad.” (Pause) Chef Nuria Rodrigeuz Parra: “Yes, you are right.” There aren’t many chefs who would nod their heads in mock dismay when you call them “a bit mad”. Secretly Chef Nuria Rodriguez Parra of Imperfecto takes it all as a compliment. She believes one needs to be “a bit mad” to be a creative genius in any field. The love for all things loony, is apparent in the only Hindi word she uses generously and frequently—pagal. Rodriguez was the second Chef I met in this month who strongly believed that normal was boring—the first being Chef Jerome Cousin who even named his restaurant Rara Avis meaning a rare bird (or a cuckoo if you will). It’s this belief that normal is boring that has been turned into a mantra at Imperfecto—one of the most visually stimulating restaurants in Hauz Khas (perhaps, the city?). It is as eccentric as it gets. Not just the menu which is pasted on a picture frame, but the interiors of the three-storeyed restaurant has the unique Rodriguez touch. Whether you look at the whimsical scooter jutting out of a wall on the staircase; or the mismatched brass lanterns; or the multi-coloured seats and tables of different sizes and heights; every item was carefully handpicked by the Spanish lady from antique bazaars of Rajasthan. At the end of the day, Imperfecto is not about a just a perfect meal. It is also about having a perfect time. Chef Rodriguez and the restaurant proprietors–father and son duo of the Madans—want their city folks to have quite the experience. Props aside, the restaurant provides the main thing as well—a nourishing meal. Albeit the menu is a bit DEMOCRATIC 43 WORLD JULY 2013 limited, however, it is not a bad thing. It will take one two to three outings to sample the whole fare that Imperfecto has to offer. And Imperfecto demands a second visit. To top that, Chef Rodrigeuz periodically appears with platters of tapas and insists that one tastes them. It was on one of her rounds on a late, late Sunday night that I met Rodriguez for the first time while sipping a wholesome, nourishing Bird Soup— chicken stalk, thyme, basil and generous cubes of meat, perfect comfort food—Rodriguez came with more chicken (salamis, this time) and stayed on chatting for half-an-hour. She arrived a little later this time with a vegetarian pizza covered in excellent mozzarella— which I am ashamed to admit—was devoured entirely by yours truly. Apart from being the kitchen queen, Rodriguez is good at making friends. It’s a quality that’s come handy for the woman who’s followed her scribe husband all over the world before arriving in Delhi. The first few months Rodriguez stayed busy teaching intricacies of the Spanish cuisine to ladies at the Instituto Cervantes. Afterward, she headed off to Olive before being approached by the Madans, who owned a boutique clothing store right at the entrance of Hauz Khas village. The Madans wished to start a restaurant. Rodriguez knew all about them with the years of experience of working in Michelin starred restaurants abroad. However, the good Chef was wary at best. “I asked them am I pagal!? I was already working 18 hours every day and now my good friends were asking me to spend the rest of the day at the project.” But a pagal she was, who started devoting bits of her weekends to Madan’s pet project. The weekend hours slowly extended, till the lady found herself immersed into the project nearly all the time including handpicking the curios that grace its walls. The two chairs nailed on the walls which ‘seat’ books? Yes, that was one of her ideas as well and those books belong to her hubby dear. Chef Rodríguez learnt most of her cooking from her grandmother. When she was young she would barge into her kitchen and demand to learn. Soon she had her miniature pots and pans to work with and would painstakingly write down each recipe in a notebook when she was a little bigger. However, the road to the kitchen was paved with responsibilities—one of them was to be ‘educated’. Thus Rodriguez went off to engineering college trying to work on farming and engineering. But that never was her calling and soon all plans were abandoned much to the dismay of her parents and the young girl headed off to chef school and received a degree in hospitality studies in Fundación San Valero Cepa, Miguel de Cervantes and from Villanueva de los Infantes (Ciudad Real). Based on the reservoir of knowledge, Rodriguez has become one of the top Spanish chefs of the city. Showcasing all that she learnt from her grandmother, she presents the best of her culinary skill—a wholesome meal with a smile.