Chidambaram believes that secret talks with various Kashmiri groups would yield result. The relatively ‘peaceful’ 2009 has goaded him to announce the pull-out plan. He is on a secret path to peace, away from the formidable observatory formed by umpteen number of media persons.

Peace.

The term “quiet diplomacy” could also be applied to his silence on ‘talks with Maoists’. When the press attempted a compare-n-contrast survey he said nothing about this topic. Or that is what The Hindu says

http://beta.thehindu.com/news/national/article59053.ece?homepage=true

Asked why he was holding talks with separatists and not with the Maoists, Mr. Chidambaram said a new generation of leaders had taken over many of the Kashmiri groups and he did not think the government should shy away from talking to them just because they had phrased a demand in a particular manner.

He maintained meticulous silence on ‘ why not Maoists?’. Perhaps Kashmiri groups have come of age. Perhaps you can’t talk it out with Maoists.

Peace.

********************************

Villages and Terrorism

The plight of villages is always precarious. They are the last to reap the benefits of development, but the first to bear the onslaught of reckless policies of ‘progress’. They have to wait for a longer period for the State troops to vacate their land, since terrorists have found some of their best hideouts in rural areas.

I have never seen any documentaries or movies related to the fall of the Berlin Wall. That partly explains my interest in the 20-minute long TV reportage of the event, as told by the journalists from Allied Nations.

The simple and moving video of a family on the move to West Germany enlightened me. I was expecting more drama. Brian Hanrahan the avowed enemy of communism was eager to clarify why they want to go across the border. The couple said they were going to meet their friends and may be, some famous musicians from West Germany. They wanted to know what that “experience” means. It’s about a legitimate curiosity—- about their desire to have a nice time with their dear ones on the other side of the Deutschland.

The reporter enquired again. “Do you want to stay there?” The reply was emphatic: “No, not at all”.

Of all the reporters, Tom Brokaw (NBC) appeared to be smarter. He had managed to  fix a meeting with the Information Minister of Politburo, to be conducted after the press conference. With a Coca-Cola smirk, he asked if the official was still a communist.

The exuberant crowd sprayed champagne and funnily, one even popped up an umbrella to keep the discomforts of jubilation at bay.

Philippe Rochot recollects how he spotted renowned cello player Rastropovich who camped close to the Checkpoint Charlie where Antenne 2 had deployed their satellite. The clip shows him playing the cello against the vibrant backdrop of paint-dripping graffiti. Rochot says the fall is an important event in his personal life as well, since he was born after the war and grew up to partake his share of Cold War. Everyone seemed to share the dictum —- the personal is the political.

One of the media firms had sent a press vehicle to West Germany, an alternative channel incase East Germany decides to block the press from covering the event. The event of Tiananmen Square was fresh in their memory forcing them to take all cautious moves.

http://www.goethe.de/ins/in/bag/kue/flm/en5210592v.htm

Afterword:

As soon as I reached the front porch of the Bhavan, I heard an old man speaking over (or proclaiming rather?) the cell phone about his snobbish days of jazz and rock reviews.

“See what we’ve become twenty years down the lane!!!”

The old man chuckled.

I was the lone viewer and felt quite comfy staring at the less than twenty empty saffron chairs.

*******************************************************

In today’s competitive world it is important to sell yourself. What do you mean by selling yourself?

In an interview, you should convince the interviewer that you are the best candidate; they should not have second thoughts about your talent, perseverance, dedication and confidence. Your presentation of your ‘self’ should be such that they would agree to give you a fat pay package without hesitation. Those who are naturally talented (whom we call street smart) needn’t worry about this. Well, others brace up to play the game!

Or else……..

I am reminded of Mr. Crowley, a character from Aldous Huxley’s short story, “The Portrait”. He was a talented artist but lacked the art of convincing the powers that be. He was a “wretched creature who didn’t know how to look after himself”.  He failed to realize his worth. Or, if he did, didn’t know how to use his potential to his gain.

Once, an art dealer agreed to pay him 20 pounds for one of his “sham Old Masters”. Little did he know that the art dealer was smart enough to re-sell the painting for more than twenty-five times the original price. His name was Mr. Bigger. As is the name so are his deals. Smile, prod, assent, assess, flaunt, fib — everything is fair in sale and war.

The uninformed customer paid 680 pounds and left the store, thinking that he made an intelligent investment in the “original” work of an ‘Old Master’!!! Nevertheless, being a politically correct businessman, Mr. Bigger upped the ante; he gave twenty-five pounds to the artist. Mr. Crowley blushed like a girl.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aldous_Huxley

ANALYSIS

We stand on the “bluff” eagerly waiting for the “sparkling armada of promises”. We hope that each ship will “heave to and unload all good into our lives”. We wait for that “something”. But it never arrives. It fools us who wait in vain, “holding wretched stalks of disappointment”.

We always hope for the best in life. Therefore, we dream big. The human tendency to desire for the most luxurious, impossible things is mocked at by the poet. Our unrealistic aspirations are mirrored in the “big approach, leaning with brasswork prinked”. The ship adorned with flags and figurehead with “golden tits”, is in sharp contrast to “black-sailed ship that symbolizes death.

Armed with dream catchers, our delusions are too powerful and ironically too real —- the silhouette of every dream is delicately delineated:

Each rope distinct

The metaphorical ship — our personal treasure house — never anchors. As soon as it creates the impression of being “present” it vanishes; it “turns to past” only to become a memory of a dream.

Life cheats us continually. But we never learn from our mistakes. The poet says that “right to the last” we think each ship will anchor and unload all the precious gifts of life. Thus we are lost in our persistent search for a better tomorrow.

The black-sailed ship is the stark image of death, the only certainty:

Only one ship is seeking us, a black-

Sailed unfamiliar

If death is unpretentious at its best, it is ironical at its worst. While we chase our dreams, we are in turn chased by death, and the one and “only” ship that arrives does not flaunt any signs of an afterlife.

As the ship of death arrives, waves that played a host to the “armada of promises” come to a standstill:

In her wake

No waters breed or break.

The negation of “water break” (a metaphor from child birth) and “breed” (self-explanatory verb), conjures up the formidable image of death — an ominous vessel that forestalls the dawning of a dream or the hope of an afterlife.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Figurehead_(object)

http://images.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://ahoy.tk-jk.net/MoreImages7/FigureheadSailingShipElissa.jpg&imgrefurl=http://ahoy.tk-jk.net/macslog/ABriefHistoryoftheShipsFi.html&usg=__h61UPBttEt416Jyl3YnmKYNjO7M=&h=460&w=610&sz=32&hl=en&start=4&sig2=JhpxBnd9wFB-rGKrCTMLAw&um=1&tbnid=Ji_Ae5atSOQ5HM:&tbnh=103&tbnw=136&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dfigurehead%26hl%3Den%26rlz%3D1C1GGLS_en-ININ351IN352%26sa%3DN%26um%3D1&ei=MkwES7-ZGZXi7APikqRv