I was held up ...

The year was 1994. The locale was inner city Detroit. The specific address, Deroy Apartments at the Wayne State University Campus.

My friend Subbu and I came back late from the sports building called MATTHAEI to have dinner with my wife and a couple of friends. I had been taking swimming lessons and Subbu was my teacher. The friends were already at my home and were deep in some conversation with Jannavi but obviously waiting for us to come back.

Subbu and I apologized for being late saying, "we were held up".

They said they understood.

And we again said, "we were held up"

And they wisely nodded their head and assured us it was OK.

"You do not understand, we were really held up"

My friends assured us that they did no mind waiting for a nice dinner; my wife was known as a good cook.

We were clearly not communicating - so we acted it out. I made a gun with my hand and put it next to our head and pulled the trigger and said - we were held up! Get it?

Yawn. No one believed us. We were just making a excuse. So we pull out the business card of the police office. Then we told them the complete story

After the completion of the lessons and the showers, we walked out of the sports complete. And as we reached the parking lot, someone wearing a hoodie walked up to us, pointed something at me and asked us for our money. After nearly 20 years, I am unable to recollect the actual words he spoke or gestures he made. I distinctly remember a small, shining, probably golden color, gun. The gunman pointed it at me first and asked me for my money. I did not have a penny on me. Frustrated, he turned to Subbu and asked him for his money. He also did not have any. He asked us empty our pockets. I had only my student ID, but Subbu unfortunately had a copy of ATM receipt. The guy put the gun next to Subbu chest and ordered us to take him to an ATM, but with difficulty we assured him that we did not have the ATM card on us. Much frustrated, the gunman was a little unsure. It was a dangerous moment; he decided to walk away.

We were lucky. It could have ended tragically. From that day onwards, I always carry at least $20 always in my pocket.

Going Mainstream in USA

I came to this country in the late 80s. Except in the major metros, being Indian implied that one stuck out like a sore thumb. It meant answering the same question again and again; Are you a Hindi? Do you speak Hindu? Are there really 300 dialects? How come you eat meat? Is it not a taboo? What part of your name refers to your village?

Then came Y2K and with that a sudden influx of varieties of Indians. The tide slowly turned. The number of questions dwindled and the few inquiries you received were intelligent. Around the middle of last decade, I felt that being Indian was no longer unusual when I saw the Inside Man, starring some main stream Hollywood stars. As the opening credits rolled, I was surprised to hear this super hit song Chaiyya Chaiyya by the peerless AR Rahman.

Fast forward to today and I was completely shocked. I had some time to kill and I was watching Eternal Sunshine of the spotless Mind starring Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet. Fast forward to around 11 minute mark.

Here is the challenge. Identify the three Hindi songs you hear in the back ground and tell me the name of the songs and singers.

Do not look in the Wikipedia.

I still have not yet seen the movie. I was just so thrilled to hear those songs that I dropped everything to write this post.

Two cats and a Monkey

I am sure you all have heard of the moral tale of the two cats and a monkey, but please indulge me in reviewing this story with you.

Once upon a time there lived two cats that came up a nice big cookie. They immediately claimed it for each other and quarreled bitterly over it. This was seen my a cunning monkey up on a tree who immediately offered to lend a helping hand in arbitrating the dispute. He started by breaking the cookie into two parts with one being small and the other little larger. Since it was not fair to one of the cats, he took a bite which subsequently made the smaller piece larger which he now claimed was not fair to the other cat. This went on till there were two very small piece which the monkey put in his mouth. When the cats asked him why he ate the last two pieces the monkey answered that those two pieces were his price of arbitration. The two cats, now wiser, realized their folly a little too late.

Now comes the geopolitical analogy to this moral tale. Substitute India and Pakistan for the two feuding cats, China for the cunning monkey that is above all fray and only wishes to bring harmony to the region, and finally the cookie could be any number of discords between India and Pakistan. We could for simplicity call Kashmir the cookie, although the folks that live there may not like to think of themselves. This is only an analogy and should not be taken too literally.

Basically it is a tale of India and Pakistan fighting constantly that has opened the door for opportunistic China in its drive for dominion status over all of Asia. China knows clearly that there is only one potential power that can derail its plans and that is India. So long as China keeps India engaged in Indo-Pak conflicts that do not ever end, the less chance India has in playing a role in the larger stage. The less the other countries recognize India as a global power, the more they see China in that role.

Saving the Planet - baby step

The area where I live is called Brookeville, adjoining Olney. The housing communities are planned and well maintained with lot of walk paths. From spring all the way till late fall, it is not unusual to see a lot of residents running or walking. When I was not jogging, I walk a lot in my neighborhood, generally to stay fit. Despite being a well maintained neighborhood, it is not uncommon to see a little bit trash especially around common area that belong to no particular neighborhood and also in the wooded parts. It may seem rather a generalization, but I attribute most of this to a few thoughtless teenagers and some folks from other parts that commute on Georgia Avenue and Olney Laytonsville Road. I personally do not understand this, but I presume it is more of  "I do not live here, so it is acceptable to throw trash here" would seem to be the mentality. They probably subscribe to a form of NIMBY!

In the past, I would simply bemoan the fact, shake my head, and continue walking. More recently, I have felt the need to take some concrete action such as getting a group together to perform cleanups. Now I find it hard to convince anyone, if I tell them to zig, they tend to zag. In fact, I always say that if you want to convince someone to your point of view, send me to that person to argue to the opposing point of view! Maybe if I performed the task, my actions would be more convincing than my words. More over I felt I was not doing my share. So last week, I went to Home Depot and purchased a Trash Grabber. 

The weather earlier today was too nice and I carried the trash grabber along with a trash bag. I filled by bag with plastic and aluminum cans within a mile of my house and there is still a lot of trash to be picked up. As I walked and picked trash, I observed myself puffed with self-righteousness. I had to talk myself down a bit and put it in perspective; it was only one walk and one bag. At the other end, it was hard to stop myself from getting frustrated by the amount of trash, I could easily have packed ten bags. I felt my instincts to overdo needed to be curbed. I could not clean my neighborhood of trash in one walk. If there is still trash around it is not a failure. There is one bag less today than there was yesterday! It is continual process, more of a marathon than a sprint as most things in life are. This is only the beginning. 

I want to make this now part of my walks which now serve dual purposes; improve my health and the health of my neighborhood. Clean the neighborhood one walk, one bag at a time.

Raag Tax

Liberals want progressive taxes where the rich pay a larger part of their income and poorer people less part of their income since they have that much less to spare.

Conservatives and rich folks believe that the poor are slackers and want to live of the fat of the land. They would like a flat tax where everyone pays the same percent of their salary in taxes. Even better, why not tax based on consumption. Most economist consider this regressive, since consumption accounts for most of a lower income family while forming just a small fraction for the rich.

Middle class looks with envy at the rich and want them to pay more in taxes. They also look down at the poor and hate any entitlement programs that does not target the middle class such a tax write off for sneezing.




So here is my simple (or simplistic) taxation plan. It is progressive in the sense that the rich will pay a larger percentage of their salary than the poorer. The are only four variables or levers

Rmin - Minimum tax rate = 0% hence this is really not a variable.

Exemption Amount - for self and dependents.
Rmax - Maximum tax rate
Smin - Maximum salary at which taxation would still be 0%. This number is based on 1 exemption.
Sman - Minimum salary at which taxation rate would not longer increase. This number would be based on 1 exemption.

All income would be treated equally and no special benefits would be given for investments. In short, there is absolutely no other exception. This model can be extended to both State and City taxes.

Some examples for Federal Taxes.
Exemption  = $5,000.00
Rmax = 20%
Smin - 50,000.00
Smax = 250,000.00

A single person having an income of 50,000.00 or less would not pay any taxes.
A family of 4 having an income of 65,000.00 or less would not pay any taxes.
A single person having an income of 250,000.00 would pay 20% taxes.
A family of 4 having an income of 265,000.00 or more would pay 20% taxes.

What do you think of this idea? Naive? If so, why? Don't you think every economic policy, although well intentioned, has always created distortions and finally proven the truth of of Law of Unintended Consequences?

Tyranny Of Thyagaraja

I love Carnatic classical music. I took to it 20 years ago and there has been no turning back. During the early days I liked a few of the ragas like, Mohanam, Hamsadhvani, Kaanada, Kambodhi, and Kaapi. Later I learned to enjoy a whole host of other Ragams such as Shankarabharanam, Karaharapriya, Sriranjani, Khamas, and Panthu Varali to name just a few.

A large number of listeners predominantly derive pleasure from the peotry. Carnatic music is predominantly Kriti based, which means, the artist performs songs that are poems written and then set to music by the four Trinity of Carnatic Music (yes, I know what trinity means), Muthusvamy Dikshithar, Shyama Shastry, Purandara Dasa, and of course the saint Thyagaraja. Or else they choose lyrics from popular religious text. The most popular songs are almost always poems written in Telugu, Sanskrit, or Kannada. A lot of the songs are so well known that you see frequently audience requesting them by the first two words of the poem.

I am not a language bigot and I speak three quite fluently and two others that I could pick up with little effort. It is just that, these composers were deeply religious. Thyagaraja was famous for his Rama Bhakti, Shyama Shastri composed so many songs in praise of Devi. Dikshithar went on a pilgrimage around India writing peoms in praise of various deities all over the country. Purandara Dasa gave up a life of affluence to sing praise of the Lord. Since you all know my opinion on both God and religion; it would not come as a surprise when I say that these poems do not move me at all. I cannot go into ecstasy listening to how Thyagaraja chides Rama for not meeting him in the eye. Whatever dude!

And therein comes the title. I initially thought of titling this post "Tyranny of Kritis". My daughter is studying for AP Literature and from her I learned the meaning of alliteration. I immediately saw that I must change the title. I assure you I have nothing against Thyagaraja.

Coming back to my love for the music, thankfully I persevered and during this time, found myself developing a predilection for the the Alapana, Neraval, Svara Kalpana. These aspects of Carnatic Music, also known as, Manodharma, help the audience appreciate the creativeness of the artists and their ability to improvise or bring originality to a given set piece.

Cross Country Travel 1990 - Part III

I slept like a log after the 2nd day of my Cross Country Travel culminated in severe emotional trauma. I do not remember the particulars of the following morning. I do remember taking I-80 again, not that there was any other choice in the middle of Wyoming!

I remember the day being overcast for most of the stretch. Quickly I moved into the neighboring state of Nebraska. I am sure it is a beautiful state, but I regret I remember very little of the drive other than the undulating freeway, my loneliness, the large number of trucks on the road, farms, and constant odor of manure. My only excuse is, I was young and was not a great observer.

Somewhere on the way, I picked up another hitchhiker. His story was interesting, he had no car, he worked on a farm; not sure what exactly he did; his daughter lived with her family lived several miles north of Des Moines, Iowa and he was going to see her by bumming rides along the way! Coming from California, the entire mid-west was an eye opener for me. I thought all of America was prosperous and everyone had one or more car at their disposal. And here was me, from a third world country, give a ride to a hitchhiker from the first world!

I moved over to Iowa by crossing a massive river which I later found was the Great Missouri. As a kid it used to hurt me that this river was overshadowed by the Mississippi. I took it personally since, I felt that if the cartographers had been smart and called the whole river, Missouri, then it could have been the longest river in the world with Mississippi being merely a tributary not the other way around! I hated The Nile and The Amazon and would look at the map sadly with thoughts of what might have been! Just check out this link and you will understand. The Missouri is actually longer than the Mississippi!

After dropping, my hitchhiker, I went to a Motel 6 and I found myself at a standstill. They had no rooms. The guy at the reception, another Indian, told me to try my luck at a motel nearby. When the receptionist at the other motel told me that single-room rates were more than $50 I was shocked. Here I was in the $20-$25 range and could not wrap my head around the larger number. I went back to my Indian receptionist as if he could do some magic for me! He took pity on me and told me to tell the other guy, that I was a referral from Motel 6. Well long story short, I got Motel 6 rates and went to sleep.

And so ended my Day 3.

Very few aspects of the Day 4 stand out clearly in my mind. It was mostly about weariness and a desire to see the end of the journey. I guess it is hard to drive a stick shift without cruise control for 12 hours each day for 3 consecutive days and not be tot müde (dead tired). I was so weary that at one point I fell asleep at the wheel for what seemed only a few seconds. I remember the shock I felt when I jolted back awake. I stopped at a rest area and washed my face, rested for a short while and drove on.

I saw a sign welcoming me to Illinois followed by another massive river, The Mississipi. It turns out that Mississippi forms the eastern border of Iowa with Illinois just as Missouri forms the western border of Iowa with Nebraska. I stopped somewhere south of Chicago at a Pizza Hut. Except for a short period when I suffered from Jaundice, I have never been known to say no to food. I used to have an appetite of a rickshaw-wallah. I did not know one could be so pooped out that the sight of food could bring on gag reflex. I did the best I could and drove into Michigan.

At this point I had left behind my friend of nearly four days, I-80 and took I-94. I passed by Kalamazoo and Battle Creek and went North on I-69 towards Lansing. I was nearing the end of my journey. From Lansing, I headed east going towards East Lansing. After getting directions from students, I found out where Spartan Village was. It was late in the evening when I finally landed at PG's place. I had dinner with his friends and went to sleep, a tame ending to four amazing days in my life.