Corruption...Blago-style!

For those who complain about the irredeemable corruption in India, we present competition from Chicago!

Rod Blagojevich, came to gubernatortial power in Illinois, the 1st Democrat to do so in 30 years, campaigning as an anti-corruption crusader. In his winner's speech, he said "Tonight, Illinois has voted for change". And what a change that was...

6 months of legally authorized FBI wiretapping has found out that:
1. Rod attempted to arm-twist the Chicago Tribune by withholding state aid if they did not sack editorial staff who wrote scathing critiques of our hero's tenure.
2. Rod tried to wring money out of the Mercy Children's hospital and threatedned to refuse state funds/approval if they did not undertake sufficient fund-raising efforts for his campaign.
3. Rod tried to "sell" off Obama's seat to the highest bidder, calling the President-elect a "MXXXXfucker" and berating Obama's team because they promised him mere "appreciation" instead of monetary benefits or high-ranking positions that he coveted.

Of course, Leno, Letterman and the rest of the talk-show gang have already moved in, smelling blood:
LENO: "Hey, you probably saw this on the news. A very embarrassing moment at the Illinois State Capitol today. Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich attended the opening of the nativity scene. And when the three wise men showed up with gifts for the baby Jesus, Blagojevich demanded half the loot."
LETTERMAN: "We're not kidding about this economy, which is so bad that Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich had to mark down the price of a Senate seat 40%"

More profanity by Blago & wife here, more news about Blago's senate selling spree here and more fun about his hair here.

Like my Dad said, corruption in India is very obvious and low-level - you can bribe the cops, the health inspector and the meter reader. IMHO, in the US it's not so obvious but very much prevalent and quasi-legalized with official lobbyists and think-tanks. The system definitely works better but is oiled and rigged at the highest levels, methinks.

From Chicago with Love!

So Karupp's (aka Blackie) is so delighted with his box of goodies from Amrika that he's promised not to pee on Mom's garden plants...for the next 1 month at least.

With roadside bitches edging up to him daily, he plans to use the Breathbuster biscuits to make his "move" to jump over our gates sometime in the New Year. His UltraGuard drops and Pro-Pet (Senior!) pills should keep in good scent/shape for all the titbits from X'mas guests. And of course, he starts his mornings with Snausages, shaped so lusciously like egg and bacon pieces that my aunt popped in one of them and was retching for the next 20 minutes(which started only after we told her, before which happy chewing happened).

And me, I am wondering if I should consider the sheer vanity of it all or the awesome retail marketing that's made me buy breath buster biscuits and multivit tabs for a black Lab?

Try to praise...

Adam Zagajewski, whom I have never heard of before I received this mail from the U.Chi poetics list seems to have written an amazing poem here...a grey poem with just a glimmer of light to be served with wild strawberries and wine on what would be an otherwise pointless Monday morning...here's to hearing him read this Wednesday!

Try To Praise The Mutilated World
- Adam Zagajewski

Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June's long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
while salty oblivion awaited others.
You've seen the refugees heading nowhere,
you've heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
in a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought to the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
and leaves eddied over the earth's scars.
Praise the mutilated world
and the grey feather a thrush lost,
and the gentle light that strays and vanishes
and returns.

Today I found out the meaning of...

VADE MECUM
(c) Billy Collins

I want the scissors to be sharp
and the table to be perfectly level
when you cut me out of my lie
and paste me in that book you always carry.

LATE SHOW
(c) Billy Collins

No wonder everyone loved the private dick
whose only badge is a pack of Camels
and who never dies until the movie is over
and nobody can watch him writhe.

He charges a hundred a day plus expenses
and there would be plenty of time to relax
between cases.

The only suffering in the world would be
those blackjackings from the blind side
his nods to mortality,

but then he fades into a soft dissolve
and comes to on a sumptuous couch
a blonde in a nightgown rubbing his temples
and pouring brandies as she reconsiders
the double cross.

What better style of transport
than an open car squealing along
the Coast highway, one hand on the wheel
as you unravel the onion of the murder
so fast she can't even follow.

What better place to think things over
than a swivel chair in a darkened office,
the pulse of the neon hotel sign
illuminating your notorious face

your hat hanging on the rach where you
tossed it on the way in.

PS: Although I almost missed the generation of Mike Hammer,Carter and Travis McGee, I chanced upon about 30 of these novels in some corner at home. For a 14 year old, the charm of a divorced, chain smoking, rugged detective blustering his way through whistling bullets, skimpy blondes and the occassional weak plot was irresistable - later I realized that there have been more who succumbed.

This poem is a kind of a tribute to this genre...by gently smiling at all the impossibilities that the genre was composed of, Collins also seems to be tipping his hat to an old memory, a friend we left behind when we moved from the suburbs to downtown.

PPS: Especially loved the way he has etched...
"nods to mortality"
"reconsiders the doublecross"
"unraveled the onion of a murder so fast she cant even follow"

For those unfamiliar with these characters, a good starting point would be Calvin's Tracer Bullet ;-)

The Death of Allegory (c)

I am wondering what became of all those tall abstractions
that used to pose, robed and statuesque, in paintings
and parade about on the pages of the Renaissance
displaying their capital letters like license plates.

Truth cantering on a powerful horse,
Chastity, eyes downcast, fluttering with veils.
Each one was marble come to life, a thought in a coat,
Courtesy bowing with one hand always extended,

Villainy sharpening an instrument behind a wall,
Reason with her crown and Constancy alert behind a helm.
They are all retired now, consigned to a Florida for tropes.
Justice is there standing by an open refrigerator.

Valor lies in bed listening to the rain.
Even Death has nothing to do but mend his cloak and hood,
and all their props are locked away in a warehouse,
hourglasses, globes, blindfolds and shackles.

Even if you called them back, there are no places left
for them to go, no Garden of Mirth or Bower of Bliss.
The Valley of Forgiveness is lined with condominiums
and chain saws are howling in the Forest of Despair.

Here on the table near the window is a vase of peonies
and next to it black binoculars and a money clip,
exactly the kind of thing we now prefer,
objects that sit quietly on a line in lower case,

themselves and nothing more, a wheelbarrow,
an empty mailbox, a razor blade resting in a glass ashtray.
As for the others, the great ideas on horseback
and the long-haired virtues in embroidered gowns,

it looks as though they have traveled down
that road you see on the final page of storybooks,
the one that winds up a green hillside and disappears
into an unseen valley where everyone must be fast asleep.

- Billy Collins

PS: Dont you know exactly what hes talking about when he says "The Valley of Forgiveness is lined with condominiums and chain saws are howling in the Forest of Despair" ;-)

Visit by Azzarro

Today after church, went to the Medici bakery for spinach pie and soymilk…quite a far cry from my idli/ dosa/ appam/ upma kind of breakfast in India. A kid at the counter, about 18-20 years old, says “You smelling nice!”. I am like “Duh!?! - I am sorry; I didn’t get that”. And then the other counter girl also joins in and says “She said you are smelling nice today”…Embarrassment explodes! GT goes back to studying the menu seriously. After about 15 seconds, I gather the courage to say “Yeah, it’s a new deo”. At which both of them burst out laughing. Sheesh. General grin all the way back to the room.

People are strange when you're a stranger...

Some surprises at Chicago…

1. People are nice
A lot of people I met on the road were quite sweet-patiently explaining directions again and again, pointing out places and stopping at zebra crossings. On my 2nd day here, I asked directions from an old lady who was walking her dog. After pointing out the place, she said quote “You look like a decent young man” Unquote and invited me home for a cup of coffee. We chatted for almost an hour and half ; nice conversation spanning family, travel, art and relationships. She also gave me quite a few of her contacts and asked me to drop in once in a while if I wasn’t too busy…apparently I would enjoy meeting her husband who was a professor. Max, her dog, was kind of neutral initially, but totally surrendered to my secret dog weapon - a combo ear-throat and tummy rub, and rolled over! This experience apart, people at the campus are generally helpful while people in Chicago town are a lot more brusque…like say the diff between Mumbai and say, Sholapur in India. Unlike in India, there are a whole lot of oohs and aahs when people greet each other…on the road, you are often asked “Hey.howja doing?”; initially I was quite perplexed about how to handle this…stop and reply? Ignore and walk? Just nod? These days, I manage to nod and say “fine, nice day, ma friend”. But what my newly-American mind wants my Indian tongue cant deliver (yet!) and so I end up mumbling something which makes people even more confused…it would have been funny if it wasn’t me ;-(

2. Some aren’t
There seem to be very clear boundaries of safe and unsafe areas- between XX and YY roads, its safe- a few metres away it’s not …for eg, eager to check out a “Lagoon”, I crossed over from a safe street to an unsafe street…immediately a guy started following me at a distance of about 20 mtrs…I cross, he crosses, I stop, he stops…got a bit scared but he was smaller than me, so decided to make a run for the safer side again and this jerk followed me almost all the way into the next street too before he kind of slowed down. After 7pm, the “regulars” on the street are just a bit risky to deal with whereas the “travellers”-the executive returning home, the man walking a dog, the lady with her groceries seem more likely to be helpful.

3. Meeting up with Venus-after Alex, this is the 2nd blogger that I have actually met with. Venus lives just a bit away from Chicago and she pointed me in the general direction of Walmart and Kohls and by the time she caught up, I owed them almost a hundred dollars. She’s getting married soon and I am sure our hero knows he’s a lucky dude ;-) We had dinner at an Indian restaurant with a couple of her friends and laughed over jokes that only us, Indians could enjoy…after a week of strange accents and cheeses, it was nice to chat in Hindi/English over Rotis and Alu Gobi.

The first week at U.Chicago

Although my course starts off only by Sep 4th, I had to come in early because I had enrolled myself in a pre-MBA stats course - along with pre-MBA accounting (which I didn’t take), these give a brief intro to courses that might be otherwise a bit of a toughie… esp. for students who have been out of college for 5 years+.

After landing in town, I slept for something like 18 hours, which I think took care of the jet lag. I dropped into a small dept. store to pick up basic grub - fruits, bread, cheeses and milk. The sheer variety of brands and food was more than a bit confusing…take milk - you have regular milk, non fat milk, sweetened milk, fortified milk, fruit milk, organic milk and so on. Multiply so many categories with approx. 10 flavours and 15 brands and you might get an inkling of what I am talking about. Back home, it was either Aavin or Arokya in Madurai, Milma, PDDP or Penta in Cochin…life was simpler. The same applies for all FMCG categories-chocolates, cereals (it took me all of 20 minutes to buy 1 box-sheer fascination with what was on offer!), biscuits and everything else…if you love meat, this is THE place, dudes - with more than 2 complete aisles dedicated to the meats of every creature that can walk, fly or swim…and allows for breeding - every kind of meat with every kind of flavoring…free range chicken, free range beef, salami, polish sausages, steaks, minced meat…it would take me an hour to complete the list.

I can imagine the pop-eyed reactions of some CPI stalwarts from home were they to see this - “Rampant consumerism rules in American society!”. Which is true in its own way, though. Have been walking around the campus mostly and hopefully I am building sexy sexy calves. Time and the Chicago marathon should tell!

Ganja @ Chicago!

Yup…after $150 for extra baggage, lousy Jet Airways staff, a cracked suitcase, 3 stopovers, 20 hours and 40 minutes and 2 in-flight movies, I reached Chitown on the 16th of August. I moved into some temp accommodation initially after which I moved into a students hall on 1st Sep.

Tony, the guy I am renting the room from, was very helpful in helping me settle down- he’s all of 17 years old…staying away from his parents, working over the summer and saving money for his college education. Not bad at all. I didn’t want to unpack everything in this room, so haven’t started cooking-have been surviving on yoghurt, pita bread, cheese spreads, salads, apples, bananas, potato chips and “burritos”. Hopefully upmas, idlis and chutneys should kick in soon!

"My baby didn't make it"

Contrary to the title of my blog, sometimes Life just doesnt mean anything...take a look at this link about the V-Tech victims...

By the relatives...
"For us it was like an electric shock"
"So we drove down here praying for the best and just preparing ourselves for the worst and that's what we got, we got the worst"
Her father Grafton said: "My baby didn't make it."
"We tried everything to completely finance his studies in the United States," he said. "We only wanted him to succeed in his studies, but... he met a tragic fate."
"He was the simplest and nicest guy I ever knew. We would be studying for our exams and he would go buy a cake and make tea for us"

About the victims
Jamie Bishop: On his own website, Jamie said he had lived in Germany for four years and "spent most of his time learning the language, teaching English, drinking large quantities of wheat beer, and wooing a certain Fraulein". That "Fraulein" was his wife Stephanie Hofer, who also teaches at Virginia Tech.

Prof.Librescu: Internationally renowned for his research work, he has been hailed a hero for blocking a doorway to protect his students. His son Joe said he had received e-mails from several students who said he had saved their lives.

Prof.Granata:He was regarded as one of the top five biomechanics researchers in the US for his work on cerebral palsy. With so many research projects and graduate students, he still found time to spend with his family, and he coached his children in many sports and extracurricular activities

Jocelyne Nowak: In the 1990s, she lived in Truro, Nova Scotia, and was instrumental in creating the town's first French-speaking school.

Juan Ortiz: "He was an extraordinary son, what any father would have wanted"

Daniel O'Neil: Daniel O'Neil, 22, of Rhode Island, was a graduate student in engineering who also played guitar and wrote his own songs, which he posted on a website, www.residenthippy.com. "He was pretty much destined to be extremely successful".

Austin Cloyd: Austin Cloyd, from Blacksburg, Virginia, was a first year in international studies and French, and wanted to be a US ambassador. Her former pastor, Rev Terry Harter, said Austin was a "very delightful, intelligent, warm young lady" and an athlete who played basketball and volleyball in high school.

Waleed Mohammed Shaalan: He is said to have called home a day before the shooting to say he was returning to Egypt next month to take his wife and one-year-old son to the US. He is said to have been shot while trying to save another student.

At such times, one does not know what to feel...guilty relief at not knowing any of them personally, anger at American gun control laxity, utter sadness at lives snuffed out, empathy for an Indian mother....what does one feel? People who walked this earth a week ago like you and me, no longer do...so many precious lives, hopes, dreams wiped out in an instant of madness...Rest In Peace, y'all folks. And amidst sadness, hope, howoever frail, shall prevail.


PS - Thanks Iday for helping me stumble over the links...