Posts
I was unwillingly thrust into a very very humbling experience at IIML today. I had to get it out my system...The Black Swan makes perfect sense to me now...I see no point in undermining the chaos that destroys all the planning that you do, it makes no sense. Emperically, chaos always beats planning. This is not to undermine planning, but to enhance the awareness about the significance of randomness in the world and how each of us are affected/effected by it.
As abstract as that may have sounded, lemme paraphrase AKR's poem here.
Suicide
A man committed suicide in a city pond,
with all his clothes on
Few strip even for death.
Take away: I guess i have camouflaged myself so much that i have become a bit of a stranger to myself. Time to strip.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Saturday, July 04, 2009
IIML : First few weeks
Its been an intense burst of activities in the two weeks here at IIML. To cut to the chaseHigh Points:
1) AMAZING BATCH PROFILE!!!
a) IIT JEE two digit rankers with amazing profiles
b) Ex I-Banking folks with fantastic IIT CGs
c) Purdue undergrad and Top 40 tennis champ (Wanky, if you are reading this..go slow on the gloating)
d) National Cricket Captains
e) Guys who cracked IISC, stanford etc etc
f) Guys who can crack the rubik's cube in 30 seconds - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VVi4JmwRbTU
g) Guys with fantastic work experience from top notch techi companies - Google, Microsoft, Amazon, Adobe ...name it!
h) 70 odd IITians in the batch with top notch ex-jobs
i) Extremely involved senior batch which is working its ass off to build the brand image
j) Work experience at an average of 3 years.
k) Fantastic organization and professionalism in all if not most aspects of managing the school
l) Amazing campus - Green and huge
m) Unbelievably talented peer group - Dance, Singing, Guitar (Chutiya..this is for you!) name it..
Low points:
1) Far too rigorous a program that tests your sanity
2) ramfication of above - You lose it
3) ramification of above - You unhinge
4) If you are from bangalore, lucknow is a village
5) Weather - Hot enough to bake bricks.
That about it for now. That apart hostel, food, rooms etc are good to go....if only the weather was cooler...i wouldn't miss bangalore
Thursday, June 11, 2009
CAT Calls!
Five cents :1) CAT is an intriguing journey full of learning. Each time you succeed or fail in a MOCK CAT or in THE CAT, you learn something new about yourself - fear/strength/dream/desire. If you haven't, then you've wasted your time. Introspect and mull over the failure. What caused it and how you can over come it. The very idea of thinking analytically and solving a problem is the first step to an MBA. This is essentially the whole idea of CAT. The idea is to impel you to think analytically. This exercise is vital. if not anything, you are at the least smarter to a problem. Simplistically:
a. Define my problem/weakness - English Grammer
b. Root - Bad Fundamentals from High School
c. Factors affecting solution - Time, Need etc
d. Solution (based on the cause and inclusive of factors) - ?
2) CAT is crackable by law of averages, so take repeated attempts as long as your sanity stays put. Again, if not CAT then XAT. if not XAT, then something else (GMAT may be?) There are a host of good schools now. So no worries. Deal with it and move on. If you can't move on, then write CAT again. These are your only two options. Face it. Either settle for a lower B school or keep trying.
3) No one is weak/strong in any section. I believed in this for years. I fooled myself into believing that English was my strong section etc...This is just a psychological barrier. For most, this mental block is so strong and so persistent that it becomes a reality. Keep an open mind about all three sections. Its ultimately Logic+Speed. Keep an open mind. Never let any past bias or performance taint your present.
4) If you are unable to overcome this mental block, then go for the workaround - Maximize your strongest section and try to clear the cut offs in the other two. I am a classic case of this point. I did english great (99.7) , cleared Quant (93 - Except C and A which want 95) and DI (97) to add up to a 99.7. More than half my marks (154) came from English (83) . While IIM B, L, K and I are okay with this, C is a no-no. While Each IIM has its own contention, none of them have a fool proof methodology. They have their own views, none of which are infallible.
5) Some "Oh man, i deserve to be at the IIM moments" and Back-to-terra-firma reality.
5a.Every time you come back home and redo a Mock CAT paper, It seems trivial.
Reality: It doesnt matter how easy it looks on post mortem. Don't dabble in self pity. You didn't do it when it mattered. Go over why and how it can be bettered.
5b.You do a yester year CAT paper and you smash it, with 20 minutes to spare. You clear the cut offs by a mile. You are smug and happy that 6 calls are shitty easy.
Reality: CATs taken at home are to be discounted by quite a bit. Don't even bother gloating. When you sit on the final day, in a bench with your TR number scrawled on it thinking about all those people who wished you the best for this year's CAT (too?) or/and think about how much you hate your job and have to get out of it and/or think about how you have to prove a point to some high school buffoon or a nose-in-the-air-aunty, you inevitably feel the real thing. In here, unless you are really smart or lucky or both, you will probably be left wondering why there was a huge disconnect between your Mock CAT scores and your actual performance.
Solution: Learn to Surmount Pressure in whatever, whichever way you deem suited to your need. The rest of the blah - Mock CATS, Practise sessions, strategy et al, just go by your intuition. If it works the first time - JackPot, It doesn't...then keep trying. Stay Foolish, Stay Hungry.
Friday, May 01, 2009
Art of SOP Writing
Just a little heads-up before we begin.1. What professors read between the lines: motivation, competence and potential.
2. Emphasize everything from a positive perspective and write in an active and in first person. [Indians some time go "One loved playing with the transistor when one was five..." who are you? Jesus ?]
3. Demonstrate everything by example; Don't bother launching rockets with your verbal prowess unless you have a tangible claim in the form of a certificate/paper/award.
4. Don't make excuses for your goof ups, explicate the learning from your fallacy effectively without trying to be a reverend.
5. If there is something important that happened (poverty, illness, family death) which affected your grades go ahead and state it, but write it affirmatively, that is, in a way that shows your perseverance.Don't beg for pity. Be strong.
6. Make sure everything is linked with continuity and focus. Don't go from being a child prodigy to writing code at TCS. [Typical Indian SOP = Start out solving complex advanced math as a child and then end up with a "top entrance test rank = CET/TNPCEE/EAMCET" and then go on to "one of the top engineering colleges in karnataka/TN/Andhra = holy crap" and then end up in "one of the best MNCs in India = ....."..who are you fooling?]
7. SOP should ideally be 1.5 pages in length. Two pages is acceptable in most [Purdue asks for half a page and Vtech doesn't need an explicit SOP. Their application has fields that cover all aspects of a SOP.]
Part1: Introduction:
This is where you tell them what you want to study. Don't begin with fluff about how you cracked the rubik's cube as a five year old and then loved logic and decoding soon after. In essence, if you are really not a John Nash, then don't try sounding like one unless you want to give the professors a funny. Tell them straight how the interest began and how it transmuted into a field of interest.
Part 2: Summarize what you did as an undergraduate
1. Important class or classes you took which stimulated your desire for graduate study, such as a specific project for a class.
2. Research you might have done Indicate with whom, the title of the project, what your responsibilities were, and the outcome. Write technically, professors are the people who read these statements.
3. Work experience, especially if you had any kind of responsibility for testing, designing, or researching a product or apparatus.
Part 3: If you graduated and worked for a while and are returning to grad school, indicate what you've been doing while working: company, work/design team, responsibilities, what you learned. You can also indicate here how this helped you focus your graduate studies.
Part 4: Here you indicate what you want to study in graduate school in greater detail. This is a greater elaboration of your opening paragraph.
1. Indicate area of interest, then state questions you might have which are associated with the topic, i.e. what you might be interested in studying. You should have an area of emphasis selected before you write the statement.
2. Call the department or look on the web for information about the professors and their research. Are there professors whose interest's match yours'? If so, indicate this, as it shows a sign that you have done your homework and are highly motivated. (Be sincere, however, don't make up something bogus just to impress people.)This part however is probably the most important. Universities love to see homework on the SOP. if you want to crack the university, you should have researched on every thread in every professor's domain. This way, you are certain which classes to take and which minors to choose, which professor you would want to approach, which professor you want to mail for AID et al. If this sincerity comes out in your SOP and you have a good profile to back it up, no university is ambiguous.
End your statement in a positive and confident manner with a readiness for the challenges of graduate study and the college in particular.
SOP is your mouth. Keep it simple, keep it technical and Keep it sincere. Your SOP, Profile, GRE Score et al add up to a persona that the university either chooses to admit or reject.
PS:
[1] SOP cannot be a maker unless you have the profile. Don't apply to MIT because your writing skills are highly persuasive. Every university ultimately wants a great engineer not a hot shot writer.
[2] Its okay to embellish a little. Don't stretch the truth beyond recognition though.
[3] Unless you take up core projects at the very onset of engineering and have a high clarity of thought in engineering, you will probably end up applying to n universities aimlessly as a fresher.
I am in favor of applying after gaining significant work exp. It helps you take some time to understand why, how and where = Gain some clarity.
In Essence, if you did do good work as an Engineer or at Work, it will reflect and it should reflect in your SOP. Top this off with strong and sincere passion for the research at the university [this SHOULD be backed by your homework on the University. Globe from a friend on how NC State is hot for networking should not go on your SOP directly without a first hand read and understanding] . Good English and writing skills are an upside but not the movers and shakers. You can, for example, use small white lies about your love for a particular school's research although it may not be your top choice. This is human, no harm done.
Your SOP can help you explore and introspect. Take time on it and get it reviewed by the been-there-done-it-well folks.
Post a comment for queries.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Margayya!
Margayya reminds me of the characters in Asterix where each name had a significance. I loved Bachelor of Arts, when i was 15. When i read it again at 24, i found it simplistic and shallow. But i guess i lacked the discernment to read the voice of the author from the many voices of his characters. For some unknown reason, i have always felt RKN's stories lacked a sense of intensity and energy that i seek in my reading.
Financial expert: Malgudi On The Mississippi
By Niranjan Ramakrishnan
I was gratified the other day to discover a good collection of R. K. Narayan's novels at our local library. Among them was The Financial Expert, a story I had been meaning to re-read for some time. This novel's hero, Margayya, is often acclaimed by critics as Narayan's most memorable character, Margayya. Now the novel itself may also prove to be his most prescient -- the way it captures today's economic meltdown in the microcosm of its tragi-comic hero's rise and fall, it might have hit the shelves this month to win plaudits for its timeliness. Actually, it was published in 1952.
The book's title is in keeping with Narayan's other works - The Bachelor of Arts, The Vendor of Sweets, The Guide, The English Teacher, The Painter of Signs -- Narayan's lulling patina through which we are shown the narrow highs and lows of petty bourgeois existence in Malgudi, Narayan's imaginary South Indian small town. Save for a few passing references, Narayan stayed mostly away from the peasantry in his writings. He gave the proletariat a complete miss, as he did caste. Still, he managed to capture something essential about the Indian lower middle class. In the words of VS Naipaul, Narayan's novels comprise "small men, small schemes, big talk, limited means". Anyone familiar with India and with Narayan's works would find in that observation an adequate measure of truth.
The one character that breaks out of this mold is Margayya, "The Financial Expert". Unlike Narayan's other protagonists, all drawn from the milieu of a benign South Indian fatalism, Margayya's is the soul of the stereotypical American go-getter, bursting with energy and ambition, driven to make things happen for himself. An Indian George Jefferson in mentality, one might say, only sans race (or in Margayya's case, caste).
The novel is not a mystery and I shall be giving nothing away by sharing its storyline. It begins with Margayya as a small-time 'lobbyist' in a small town, except that he works on behalf of poor and illiterate peasants seeking loans from the Cooperative Bank, filling out their application forms, advising them on which rules to invoke to garner the largest loan. One day the bank officials throw him out of the bank compound on pain of arrest, and he finds himself out of a job. Down to his last few rupees, a chance encounter with a frustrated author leaves him with a manuscript of a book on sex education. Margayya parleys this into his first million (before discreetly divesting himself of further interest in the book so as not to be tainted by its topic -- he has bigger plans for himself). He has now morphed into a financier, offering returns on investment several times the rates provided by the local bank. Though Narayan does not term it so, any American would see his operation as a Ponzi scheme (On second thoughts, post-Madoff, perhaps not!).
Even as Margayya's stock rises in the world, with all those who insulted him in the past now standing in line to be in his good books, deterioration has set in elsewhere. His son Balu is becoming a wastrel and a vagabond, sustained in the world wholly by his father's wealth and position. Margayya knows that if the boy ever has to pass a school exam, it is essential that he (Margayya) become chairman of the school board (Narayan writes nothing of the World Bank and the IMF), a position he obtains by suitable donations. Margayya dreams that his wealth would provide Balu the opportunities he himself was denied -- a decent opportunity to study engineering and make a good life. However, with his complete preoccupation with making money, he has little time for his son. He bribes the right people, engages the schoolmaster as the boy's tutor, all to insure that the boy passes his grades. It all comes to nought, for the boy is eventually unable to get through the board exam despite several attempts. Partly out of proclivity and partly out of Margayya's pampering (he rents the boy a home in a posh neighborhood, pays for all his expenses and provides him a handsome living allowance to boot), Balu develops into and remains a full-time party animal, even after marriage and the birth of a child.
Although Margayya's rise to financial eminence is sure and swift, the reader is throughout left with a tantalizing dread that there is something unsustainable about the entire edifice -- the only question is how it all will unravel. Narayan is no Freudian in other departments, but for the constant presence of the death wish in many of his heroes. Here it finds its expression in Margayya, at the height of his powers, doing something patently suicidal. The pyramid scheme could not have continued forever in any case, but Margayya hastens its end: provoked by his son's insult, he thrashes Balu's cavorting buddy for having led his boy astray. In retaliation, that man (incidentally the author who gave him the sex therapy manuscript originally) spreads the rumor that Margayya is out of money. Fear catches, and depositors start lining up, at first in small numbers and sheepishly, to request their funds back. An instinctive psychologist, Margayya responds by tossing their money back at them, with interest and with a stiff upper lip. But when the demand for return of money gradually builds up to a crescendo there is a run on the bank, as it were, and soon Margayya is well and truly insolvent.
The beauty of Margayya's character is the utter devotion to moneymaking and its attendant mystique. But a Margayya could thrive only when others were actually producing things, using his services as an enabler from time to time. America's 2008 meltdown arose because everyone wanted to be a Margayya. If Margayya had actually been like George Jefferson and gone in to drycleaning, we (and he) would have been all right. Instead our existence became dominated by too many financial experts, as we made lots of money and quit making very much else. Like Margayya, we turned a blind eye to our own people, to their education, health or other well-being, encouraging them to leave us in peace by providing them cheap funds to... entertain themselves, shall we say. And they, like Balu, got used to living outside their means. All in all an edifice readymade to teeter. And we, in Margayya fashion, indulged our own death wish by responding to an insult by starting a foreign war or two (to his credit, at least Margayya assaulted the right guy).
In the end, all that is left is the old ancestral home, and a few pots and pans. Shortly Balu returns, kicked out of his posh house, accompanied by wife and toddling son. Margayya was paying his rent too, after all. The Financial Expert ends with the touching scene of Margayya, who had spent his life contemplating the wonders of compound interest, turning to his grandson as he finally realizes where his true wealth lay.
It is this wisdom that appears to have eluded us, even after all that has happened. From all appearances, we still remain stuck in the money-making mindset instead of realizing the meaning of real riches. We are living parodies and literal embodiments of what Naipaul wrote of Malgudi -- small men, big talk, small schemes (large scams, though).
And limited means, more limited by the day
Financial expert: Malgudi On The Mississippi
By Niranjan Ramakrishnan
I was gratified the other day to discover a good collection of R. K. Narayan's novels at our local library. Among them was The Financial Expert, a story I had been meaning to re-read for some time. This novel's hero, Margayya, is often acclaimed by critics as Narayan's most memorable character, Margayya. Now the novel itself may also prove to be his most prescient -- the way it captures today's economic meltdown in the microcosm of its tragi-comic hero's rise and fall, it might have hit the shelves this month to win plaudits for its timeliness. Actually, it was published in 1952.
The book's title is in keeping with Narayan's other works - The Bachelor of Arts, The Vendor of Sweets, The Guide, The English Teacher, The Painter of Signs -- Narayan's lulling patina through which we are shown the narrow highs and lows of petty bourgeois existence in Malgudi, Narayan's imaginary South Indian small town. Save for a few passing references, Narayan stayed mostly away from the peasantry in his writings. He gave the proletariat a complete miss, as he did caste. Still, he managed to capture something essential about the Indian lower middle class. In the words of VS Naipaul, Narayan's novels comprise "small men, small schemes, big talk, limited means". Anyone familiar with India and with Narayan's works would find in that observation an adequate measure of truth.
The one character that breaks out of this mold is Margayya, "The Financial Expert". Unlike Narayan's other protagonists, all drawn from the milieu of a benign South Indian fatalism, Margayya's is the soul of the stereotypical American go-getter, bursting with energy and ambition, driven to make things happen for himself. An Indian George Jefferson in mentality, one might say, only sans race (or in Margayya's case, caste).
The novel is not a mystery and I shall be giving nothing away by sharing its storyline. It begins with Margayya as a small-time 'lobbyist' in a small town, except that he works on behalf of poor and illiterate peasants seeking loans from the Cooperative Bank, filling out their application forms, advising them on which rules to invoke to garner the largest loan. One day the bank officials throw him out of the bank compound on pain of arrest, and he finds himself out of a job. Down to his last few rupees, a chance encounter with a frustrated author leaves him with a manuscript of a book on sex education. Margayya parleys this into his first million (before discreetly divesting himself of further interest in the book so as not to be tainted by its topic -- he has bigger plans for himself). He has now morphed into a financier, offering returns on investment several times the rates provided by the local bank. Though Narayan does not term it so, any American would see his operation as a Ponzi scheme (On second thoughts, post-Madoff, perhaps not!).
Even as Margayya's stock rises in the world, with all those who insulted him in the past now standing in line to be in his good books, deterioration has set in elsewhere. His son Balu is becoming a wastrel and a vagabond, sustained in the world wholly by his father's wealth and position. Margayya knows that if the boy ever has to pass a school exam, it is essential that he (Margayya) become chairman of the school board (Narayan writes nothing of the World Bank and the IMF), a position he obtains by suitable donations. Margayya dreams that his wealth would provide Balu the opportunities he himself was denied -- a decent opportunity to study engineering and make a good life. However, with his complete preoccupation with making money, he has little time for his son. He bribes the right people, engages the schoolmaster as the boy's tutor, all to insure that the boy passes his grades. It all comes to nought, for the boy is eventually unable to get through the board exam despite several attempts. Partly out of proclivity and partly out of Margayya's pampering (he rents the boy a home in a posh neighborhood, pays for all his expenses and provides him a handsome living allowance to boot), Balu develops into and remains a full-time party animal, even after marriage and the birth of a child.
Although Margayya's rise to financial eminence is sure and swift, the reader is throughout left with a tantalizing dread that there is something unsustainable about the entire edifice -- the only question is how it all will unravel. Narayan is no Freudian in other departments, but for the constant presence of the death wish in many of his heroes. Here it finds its expression in Margayya, at the height of his powers, doing something patently suicidal. The pyramid scheme could not have continued forever in any case, but Margayya hastens its end: provoked by his son's insult, he thrashes Balu's cavorting buddy for having led his boy astray. In retaliation, that man (incidentally the author who gave him the sex therapy manuscript originally) spreads the rumor that Margayya is out of money. Fear catches, and depositors start lining up, at first in small numbers and sheepishly, to request their funds back. An instinctive psychologist, Margayya responds by tossing their money back at them, with interest and with a stiff upper lip. But when the demand for return of money gradually builds up to a crescendo there is a run on the bank, as it were, and soon Margayya is well and truly insolvent.
The beauty of Margayya's character is the utter devotion to moneymaking and its attendant mystique. But a Margayya could thrive only when others were actually producing things, using his services as an enabler from time to time. America's 2008 meltdown arose because everyone wanted to be a Margayya. If Margayya had actually been like George Jefferson and gone in to drycleaning, we (and he) would have been all right. Instead our existence became dominated by too many financial experts, as we made lots of money and quit making very much else. Like Margayya, we turned a blind eye to our own people, to their education, health or other well-being, encouraging them to leave us in peace by providing them cheap funds to... entertain themselves, shall we say. And they, like Balu, got used to living outside their means. All in all an edifice readymade to teeter. And we, in Margayya fashion, indulged our own death wish by responding to an insult by starting a foreign war or two (to his credit, at least Margayya assaulted the right guy).
In the end, all that is left is the old ancestral home, and a few pots and pans. Shortly Balu returns, kicked out of his posh house, accompanied by wife and toddling son. Margayya was paying his rent too, after all. The Financial Expert ends with the touching scene of Margayya, who had spent his life contemplating the wonders of compound interest, turning to his grandson as he finally realizes where his true wealth lay.
It is this wisdom that appears to have eluded us, even after all that has happened. From all appearances, we still remain stuck in the money-making mindset instead of realizing the meaning of real riches. We are living parodies and literal embodiments of what Naipaul wrote of Malgudi -- small men, big talk, small schemes (large scams, though).
And limited means, more limited by the day
Anyone listening?
Anyone doing anything about it?
India's Press Nixes "R" Word
By P. SAINATH
At least two major newspapers have informed their desks that the word “recession” is not to be used in connection with India. Recession is something that happens in the United States, not here. The word stands exiled from the editorial lexicon. If a rather disastrous situation has somehow to be indicated, the term “downturn” or “slowdown” will suffice — and it is to be used with some discretion. But not recession. That would upset the happy buying mood so vital amongst media audiences for the economy to come out of, er, um, well, recession.
This don’t-worry-be-happy decree throws up both funny and tragic situations. Several times, publications in this denial mode sport headlines telling us “the worst is over and recovery is just around the corner.” The worst of what? Recession? And what are we recovering from anyway? Now many of the publications and channels into this kind of evasion have also been laying off employees in droves, including several journalists.
Those poor souls (many with large home loan EMIs contracted when the economy was in even less of a “downturn” than it is now) are losing their jobs because of — well, whatever. Imagine you were one of them, working at the desk, filtering copy for your readers to reassure them that all is well. In the evening, you’re exorcising the columns of the ghosts of recession. Next afternoon, you find you are a victim of what you’ve purged. The hypocrisy of the media in acting the opposite of what they tell their audiences is the reality — gee, that’s part of business strategy. Scare the public and there will be less spending. Which means less advertising, less revenue, less etc.
The one time a headline in one of these dailies mentioned the ‘R word’, it mocked it as in “What recession?” More cars were being sold in a particular segment; rural India is shining (the word here is “new found prosperity”). We need the sunny side up stories — even as we practice something quite different on the underside. Television channels also trot out the usual (suspect) experts to explain that things are not as bad as they’re made out to be (By whom, we are seldom told). There were happy headlines for a while about declining inflation. (Though a few have lately become cautious about making a production number of this). But there is much less on how serious a problem food prices are. How huge an issue hunger still is. One indication of that does surface in the manifestos of political parties promising rice at Rs. 3 or Rs. 2 or even at Re. 1 a kg. (Oddly, to a population which seems to be set on buying cars, not foodgrain.) But then you know what these manifestos are.
So the media speak to their select bunch of certified experts, spokespersons and analysts and declare: there are no issues in this election. There certainly aren’t many the media are talking about. And yes that comes as a relief to political forces enabled to evade some massive problems now unfolding. Even the chance of highlighting the emerging issues — which would be a big help to many voters — gets spiked. So we were treated to IPL versus elections, Varun Gandhi, Budiya, Gudiya, and heaps of similar blather. It is to the credit of Jarnail Singh the shoe-cide bomber(who gives Barefoot Journalism a whole new meaning) that he got us off the Varun Gandhi trivia and actually scored on an important issue of all elections since 1984,
There is a bizarre disconnect between what we report as developments in the United States and what we insist is the reality here. And, of course, there are significant differences — but we don’t want to explore how those came about. For years, we’ve touted the benefits of one particular form of globalization. In which the more integrated we were with the world economy (read U.S. and European), the better things got to be. But when things get worse there, it doesn’t affect us. Oh no, not at all.
It’s also a measure of the distance, in many ways, between the partygoers and the plebeians. For the latter, there was not much to be gung-ho about, anyway. Many of them would assure you they have issues. But how do we address problems whose existence we barely acknowledged in the first place? So forget about the agrarian crisis, and the 182,000 farm suicides associated with it over the past decade. And when was hunger or joblessness an issue (in the media), anyway? Most publications have given zero space to India’s dismal show in the Global Hunger Index. All these are problems that pre-date the meltdown in Wall Street (itself something that, for the media, happened out of the blue, without warning).
Over the last year and a half, things have not been so great elsewhere either. The crisis of industry, negative growth in manufacturing, the loss of some jobs in these sectors — all these do find some mention. Most often, a passing mention. But things get really bad when the Top Ten per cent get spooked. They need to be reassured and must keep buying cars. At some point “not spooking them” means blurring the lines between illusion, ideology, reality and reporting. It could have very dangerous consequences.
For the vast mass of the population, which does not receive stock market updates on cellphones, things were not so bright anyway. The year 2006 is on record in the media as one of our great boom years. But it is the data from that year that place us at 132 in the United Nations Human Development Index. That’s a fall from the already dismal rank of 128 we held — and places us below Bhutan. In terms of underweight children and malnourishment, India is a disaster zone. Many below us in the index fare a lot better on that front. We have the largest number of such children on the planet. And there are no issues? That the dominant political forces are able to evade the issues does not mean an absence of them. That we are unable to give coherence to the giant processes unfolding around us says more about the media, less about the issues.
As their orders run out, export-oriented sectors are in the doldrums. That’s true of Gujarat, Maharashtra and elsewhere. As that happens, hundreds of thousands of workers — migrants from elsewhere — return to their homes in Orissa, Jharkhand or Bihar. What do they return to? To districts where there is an acute shortage of work — which is why they left in the first place. To a public distribution system in tatters that could not cater for even the earlier reduced population. To an NREGA that was insufficient to begin with — and which certainly, at present levels of funding, cannot cope with the addition of lakhs of people.
There is a time lag between the onset of the latest phase of recession — or call it what you will — and voting in these elections. We go to the polls this month and in May. The job losses amongst migrant workers and others are mounting by the week. You could have a pretty bad situation by the time the monsoon sets in. A few months later, it could be spectacularly bad. But the voting takes place now. Were these polls held some months from today, you would have very decisive results in most States. And the issues would not be Varun, Budiya, Gudiya or Amar Singh’s endless adventures.
Meanwhile, there is little in the media that informs our audiences that we are part of the greatest economic crisis the world has seen in 80 years, the worst since the Great Depression. Nothing that prepares readers, listeners and viewers for what could follow. The only slowdown is in the news (and paralysed editorial intellect). The big downturn is in the media’s performance. For the rest of the world it’s a recession. One from which we could move towards far worse.
India's Press Nixes "R" Word
By P. SAINATH
At least two major newspapers have informed their desks that the word “recession” is not to be used in connection with India. Recession is something that happens in the United States, not here. The word stands exiled from the editorial lexicon. If a rather disastrous situation has somehow to be indicated, the term “downturn” or “slowdown” will suffice — and it is to be used with some discretion. But not recession. That would upset the happy buying mood so vital amongst media audiences for the economy to come out of, er, um, well, recession.
This don’t-worry-be-happy decree throws up both funny and tragic situations. Several times, publications in this denial mode sport headlines telling us “the worst is over and recovery is just around the corner.” The worst of what? Recession? And what are we recovering from anyway? Now many of the publications and channels into this kind of evasion have also been laying off employees in droves, including several journalists.
Those poor souls (many with large home loan EMIs contracted when the economy was in even less of a “downturn” than it is now) are losing their jobs because of — well, whatever. Imagine you were one of them, working at the desk, filtering copy for your readers to reassure them that all is well. In the evening, you’re exorcising the columns of the ghosts of recession. Next afternoon, you find you are a victim of what you’ve purged. The hypocrisy of the media in acting the opposite of what they tell their audiences is the reality — gee, that’s part of business strategy. Scare the public and there will be less spending. Which means less advertising, less revenue, less etc.
The one time a headline in one of these dailies mentioned the ‘R word’, it mocked it as in “What recession?” More cars were being sold in a particular segment; rural India is shining (the word here is “new found prosperity”). We need the sunny side up stories — even as we practice something quite different on the underside. Television channels also trot out the usual (suspect) experts to explain that things are not as bad as they’re made out to be (By whom, we are seldom told). There were happy headlines for a while about declining inflation. (Though a few have lately become cautious about making a production number of this). But there is much less on how serious a problem food prices are. How huge an issue hunger still is. One indication of that does surface in the manifestos of political parties promising rice at Rs. 3 or Rs. 2 or even at Re. 1 a kg. (Oddly, to a population which seems to be set on buying cars, not foodgrain.) But then you know what these manifestos are.
So the media speak to their select bunch of certified experts, spokespersons and analysts and declare: there are no issues in this election. There certainly aren’t many the media are talking about. And yes that comes as a relief to political forces enabled to evade some massive problems now unfolding. Even the chance of highlighting the emerging issues — which would be a big help to many voters — gets spiked. So we were treated to IPL versus elections, Varun Gandhi, Budiya, Gudiya, and heaps of similar blather. It is to the credit of Jarnail Singh the shoe-cide bomber(who gives Barefoot Journalism a whole new meaning) that he got us off the Varun Gandhi trivia and actually scored on an important issue of all elections since 1984,
There is a bizarre disconnect between what we report as developments in the United States and what we insist is the reality here. And, of course, there are significant differences — but we don’t want to explore how those came about. For years, we’ve touted the benefits of one particular form of globalization. In which the more integrated we were with the world economy (read U.S. and European), the better things got to be. But when things get worse there, it doesn’t affect us. Oh no, not at all.
It’s also a measure of the distance, in many ways, between the partygoers and the plebeians. For the latter, there was not much to be gung-ho about, anyway. Many of them would assure you they have issues. But how do we address problems whose existence we barely acknowledged in the first place? So forget about the agrarian crisis, and the 182,000 farm suicides associated with it over the past decade. And when was hunger or joblessness an issue (in the media), anyway? Most publications have given zero space to India’s dismal show in the Global Hunger Index. All these are problems that pre-date the meltdown in Wall Street (itself something that, for the media, happened out of the blue, without warning).
Over the last year and a half, things have not been so great elsewhere either. The crisis of industry, negative growth in manufacturing, the loss of some jobs in these sectors — all these do find some mention. Most often, a passing mention. But things get really bad when the Top Ten per cent get spooked. They need to be reassured and must keep buying cars. At some point “not spooking them” means blurring the lines between illusion, ideology, reality and reporting. It could have very dangerous consequences.
For the vast mass of the population, which does not receive stock market updates on cellphones, things were not so bright anyway. The year 2006 is on record in the media as one of our great boom years. But it is the data from that year that place us at 132 in the United Nations Human Development Index. That’s a fall from the already dismal rank of 128 we held — and places us below Bhutan. In terms of underweight children and malnourishment, India is a disaster zone. Many below us in the index fare a lot better on that front. We have the largest number of such children on the planet. And there are no issues? That the dominant political forces are able to evade the issues does not mean an absence of them. That we are unable to give coherence to the giant processes unfolding around us says more about the media, less about the issues.
As their orders run out, export-oriented sectors are in the doldrums. That’s true of Gujarat, Maharashtra and elsewhere. As that happens, hundreds of thousands of workers — migrants from elsewhere — return to their homes in Orissa, Jharkhand or Bihar. What do they return to? To districts where there is an acute shortage of work — which is why they left in the first place. To a public distribution system in tatters that could not cater for even the earlier reduced population. To an NREGA that was insufficient to begin with — and which certainly, at present levels of funding, cannot cope with the addition of lakhs of people.
There is a time lag between the onset of the latest phase of recession — or call it what you will — and voting in these elections. We go to the polls this month and in May. The job losses amongst migrant workers and others are mounting by the week. You could have a pretty bad situation by the time the monsoon sets in. A few months later, it could be spectacularly bad. But the voting takes place now. Were these polls held some months from today, you would have very decisive results in most States. And the issues would not be Varun, Budiya, Gudiya or Amar Singh’s endless adventures.
Meanwhile, there is little in the media that informs our audiences that we are part of the greatest economic crisis the world has seen in 80 years, the worst since the Great Depression. Nothing that prepares readers, listeners and viewers for what could follow. The only slowdown is in the news (and paralysed editorial intellect). The big downturn is in the media’s performance. For the rest of the world it’s a recession. One from which we could move towards far worse.
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