Witnessing a house in session

Last of the three days in the parliament. Witnessed an hour's proceedings in the Lok Sabha. Went smoothly. Later paid our respects in Rakaab Ganj Gurdwara opposite the parliament. India has finished its 20 overs of batting in the series versus Bangladesh. Dhoni came in to face the last two balls of the innings. The first ball went for an awkward 2 runs. After a smile and an understanding nod at Sir Jadeja, he lifted the last ball nonchalantly for a six. In Lok Sabha TV, discussion on the recent turmoil in JNU has come to a close after a detailed clarification from Minister Smriti Irani. Things stand there. Where are we on the Oscars list? Out of the eight movies nominated for Best Picture, four I have watched. Brooklyn, Mad Max, Room and The Martian is left. Will have to choose one to watch today. Bye. 

Parliamentary bagpipes

Two days inside the parliament has taught me how to listen to foolishness without a smartphone under the table to help out. The classes were sloppily organised and the speakers were generally putting on a talk show without substance. All was not gloom and doom though. There were a couple of redeeming sessions. They were bot informative and engaging. One faculty talked of the Somnath Chatterjee-era. When he was speaker, he had admonished Shivraj Patil, then Home Minister for not being present during laying of papers. Shivraj Patil had to tender a public apology after which the House carried on its business. There was also an incident of the Indira Gandhi government resigning because of the failure of the Privy Purse constitution amendment bill. The bill failed to get the two-thirds majority by one vote. And incidentally, one Congress MP was busy in the outer lobby when the voting took place. If he had been present, the bill would have sailed through.

The delicacy and finesse of having a Rajya Sabha was also elaborated on. A check for democratic tyranny. A Lok Sabha majority would be not just enough. The federal structure is represented in the council of states. The founding fathers, though mostly from the Congress, had the foresight to put it in place over riding objections to constituting an Upper House on the lines of the House of Lords. One objection by an Englishman was interesting. If the Upper House agrees with the Lower always, he said, it is just superfluous, if it does not, it would be mischievous. Why then, have it?

Another interesting event was a visit to the Parliament Library. It housed the original copy of the constitution which was kept inside a nitrogen filled chamber. It was on the first floor, inside a tiny room. Above the entrance of the room, a print out was pasted with cellophane tape saying this room housed the original constitution. Inside a copy of the constitution was covered with crudely cut dark green silk cloth. The edges came out in strings. It wasn't exactly disrespectful but it didn't have any sanctity either. It looked a little sidelined, the constitution, a reflection of the times perhaps.

There was a session by Murli Manohar Joshi on financial committees of the parliament. The real work is done in committees, he said. When in session, the politics is played out for the gallery. He said another important thing. Inside the houses, the game is between the ruling party and the opposition. In committees, it is between the politicians and the bureaucrats. What he meant was, the committees are the forums where the accountability of the executive is taken stock through seasoned parliamentarians.

The parliament complex is filled with statues of great men. Mahatma Gandhi himslef, sits as a mammoth statue outside the main entrance. The soul of great men, however, is hard to find. It feels like a badly orchestrated show business performed by uninterested actors and impatient, haphazard support staff. There are some high profile cameos though. Tomorrow there is a visit to both the houses. Hopefully, it won't be adjourned before we make it inside. 

Fraternity

Have I taken writing seriously enough to cultivate a bit of doggedness, I wonder? To keep at it consistently I would need a certain amount of grim determination to go with the interest and intention.

Our team had a cricket match with senior colleagues today. A pleasant time of the year for outdoor sports. There was an easy relationship without much fuss or hierarchical control. The game went well though we lost. The driver was in a hurry to drop us and head off home. It was an hour's drive from the cricket ground, he drove skilfully but there were a couple of close calls. And of course there were children begging at a few signals. When we reached our institute, he said to us 'Sir, sign this, let me go home also. I reported at 6 a.m. today.' It's like that song. 'Them that's got shall have, them that's not shall lose.'

After the match, I had a long nap in the room. When I got up the pleasant afternoon had given way to a dull evening. I had a sore back and a mild headache. But a hot shower and a sushi dinner fixed that. Would now hit the Oscars list again. 'The Big Short' today. A heavenly weekend. 'God bless the child that's got his own'.   

Lunch, Dinner, comaraderie

To write well, one has to live well. The tingles of excitement in anticipating ironies, in discovering subtleties and in measuring rhetorics, there lies the rub. Having decided to write every day, I often had to pinch myself into attention and observe things at least a a tad more deeply than I usually do. I went to have lunch with a friend today at his house. It was a hazy afternoon in Delhi. I got into the cab with a kilo of apples and looked out into the smog. It was, by Delhi standards, an easy ride of 18 kms through NH8 and Dwarka road. The sites along the route were the standard sites you would see all along Delhi. A profusion of people, cars and buildings, customary trees along the road and in apartment complexes and public institutions coated with thick layers of dust, elevated metro corridors and inescapably, a couple of flyovers en route.

After greetings, we had a fragrant ghee rice with just the right flavour, boneless pepper chicken with mild flavours and onion raita. Then there was steamed rice and rasam. The good food and conversation made for a relaxing atmosphere. Three hours slipped unnoticed. Time to leave. Again a cab, again the dusty highway and back to my room. The day had been just a little sultry and my room was cool and welcoming. From the balcony, there was a constant chatter of birds. The mynas and parrots were chirping and tweeting away. The two pigeons which had made their nests on top of my room's air conditioner were oorh-ing and clucking. A busy weekend for the birds. Unfortunately there was no cuckoo but now and then there was an odd crow cawing distractedly.

Watched Spielberg's 'Bridge of Spies'. Exquisite sets. Marl Rylance was fantastic as Rudolf Abel. Has got a nomination in this Oscars for best supporting actor. Would have to wait till 28th to know. Then a lovely dinner in Dana Choga's Kitchen with another friend. The touch of ginger in the mixed vegetable gravy, the smooth makhni and the layered and crisp toasted lachha parathas were fabulous.

Photos of the parakeet and pigeon

Here we are

Distance and leisure gives a person sober eyes. The scene seems a little less cluttered, the way seems visible a little further. I have been attending classes for the past 50 days. Classrooms usually leave some elbow room for imagination. The speaker addresses the general audience and there are hardly any specific responsibilities. So sitting in class today, I was taking stock of myself.


Health: Fit but not robust
Wealth: No cheer there
Career Prospects: Comfortable
Marriage: Solid


Not a bad square to be in. But from here, where do I want to go? That was not very obvious. Hence the thought of recording the next hundred days' experiences here. Decisions are tough without analysis. Analysis is vague without data. So for empirical reasons, we start the 'One hundred pages of personal observations', shall we call it? Or 'diary' will also do. Except it is out in cyber space. Not a very cosy choice for a diary to be out parading in public.


Nevertheless, the journal of a hundred entries begins with the first one.


Ciao.