Seven uses for an Airport in Kerala

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The ‘Kerala Model of Development’ was a very famous example of development in India, but this was before Narendra Modi hired his public relations company. The contemporary model is the ‘Gujarat Model’. At present, the old Kerala model, contests hopelessly with this new model—one hypocrisy in its endless duel with another. 

In Kerala, recently a new airport plan is commissioned. It means, the people in power decided to build an airport. The land acquisition is in contestable grounds, because the chosen the place is rich with diverse flora and fauna, as usual. Who knows if it is not purposeful that each time a development project pops us, it is dumped in some delicate landscape just to ravish the nature, so that some multi-national billionaire can build swimming pools there?

Thus, the context of assessment of the important uses of the airport has been triangulated.

What??

Plainly, due to the above mentioned reasons, we must look into the main uses of an airport in Kerala. And we have a just cause to do so.    

The Seven uses of an Airport in Kerala

1. The government can invite tenders and finally, place the tender for the lowest paying construction company once the pockets of the khadi sleeves of the ministers are brimming with bank currency.

2. The land acquisition will help the poor villagers earn a lot of  money without spending a drop of their perspiration. This in return would create a bunch of consumers who do not have any idea about the value of the money they are spending. Obviously, a spending spree from the poor folks who, waking up on a fine morning found their wallets full of currency would result in a sudden increase in the price of land, food and gold.

3. The acquisition of land gives a tremendous opportunity for the government and bureaucracy to cut down the trees and scratch out the last root of grass from the soil.

4. A magnanimous airport and its sleek construction would give an impression that the State is undergoing a tremendous period of development, even though power cuts and food and medicinal shortages are part of the daily life.

5. Some minister or MLA would boast of his or her role in bringing the airport to the State. This will garner some votes in the next assembly election, as the population is both blind and deaf.

6. By virtue of its very nature, a lazy and corrupt bureaucracy would maintain the balance of its corruption cycles from the money and comfort the airport project would bring them.

7. If there are more airports and consequently more treeless desert-like landscapes, Kerala would look much like Gulf countries, and especially UAE. The concept of development being constantly loaned from the UAE, the government would much appreciate any resemblance with the Gulf countries, at least in looks.     

Thus we can sum up the seven uses for an airport in Kerala.

 

Aranmula
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People of Aranmula, the place of the proposed airport, are in protest against the airport. All of them are requested to go through the above mentioned important points and cure themselves of their pitiful ignorance about how the system works. 

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Iron Man 3

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Tony Stark has a story to tell. Unlike the two previous installments of Iron Man, the 3^rd one is narrated by a character in the movie. And we instantly recognize the narrator from his voice. It’s Mr. Stark Junior, the narcissistic, individualistic American zillionaire scientist, who believes that development and creativity can truly help shape the world into a better one. Of course, he is considerate of the ‘future’, not just his own, but of the whole world’s too. This does seem a paradox from a self centered man of Tony Stark’s reputation. But it is evident in the ending of the movie that he is indeed looking forward into the future.

The Mandarin becomes an imminent threat to the world and in the US powerful people are thinking and plotting against this baddie. Ben Kingsley performs as Mandarin. Aldrich Killian (Guy Pearce) is a scientist who is the founder of Advanced Idea Mechanics. He turns out to be the real problem for Iron Man and the US, later. Even Mandarin’s identity is reversed and surprisingly, comes to rest at the end, on an unsuspecting man. If I tell you who that person is, the story is over, it will spoil the fun. For those who watch movies before reading reviews or Wikipedia or IMDb, Iron Man 3 is a gala feat. Well, the best way to watch a movie, it seems is just to go and watch it without reading any reviews and filling your mind with prejudices. If you are so obsessed with checking the IMDb before any movie, then check only for the ‘behind the screen’ people. Kevin Feige of Marvel Studios produced Iron Man 3 and Shane Black directed it.

Robert Downy Jr. as Tony Stark/Iron Man
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Tony Stark, performed by Robert Downey, Jr with all the ingredients perfect, realizes that the one thing he cannot live without is his beloved Virginia"Pepper" Potts. Gwyneth Paltrow is one of my favourite actors and she is, as always, stunning in this movie. In the beginning of the movie, Tony Stark is busy with a hobby in an underground section of his lab cum home. Only towards the end of the movie, we realize what his hobby was.

Gwyneth PaltrowImage Courtesy: Google

Mandarin’s attack ruins Tony Stark’s lab and home. He barely scrambles out of death and destruction, and inside his Iron Man suit, lands somewhere in the northern part of America, in an icy cold place. There he meets a young boy, who helps him get back on his feet. The Tony Stark you encounter in Iron Man 3 is the man who saved the earth from the attack of the aliens, you might have seen in Avengers. He suffers from anxiety attacks from the past ruffle with the aliens.

As always, funny and energetic, Robert Downy Jr. is fun to watch in Iron Man 3. A special mention should go to the always faithful, "Rhodey" or Col. James Rhodes, whose Iron Man costume, as we see in this movie, is named Iron Patriot. Don Cheadle  is wonderful as Rhodey.  

Finally, the individual survives and rises from the ashes, like the mythical phoenix. Probably the number of Iron Man fans would outnumber people in Kerala. And in that very comparison lies the true essence of what makes Iron Man so special a character, among all the other Avengers or from any other comic universe. It is his individualism—the triumph of the individual over his surroundings. Tony Stark is particularly conscious about himself, every time. In an instance when attacked by one of the ‘amber men’ he gives this advice to the boy—never to show your weakness when you are defeated, always be cool. [Words may not be accurate].

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Just like every time, no ratings and no stars. Please rate this movie yourself. And, dear friend, happy movie-going. 

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People Kafka Screwed Up

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Of course, read The Castle and you know that you are in a similar place, much like Joseph K; wherever your geographical location is. And you face a similar fate or feeling of such a fate approaching, the moment you enter in a law enforcement office. This is not just true about Kerala or India, or about Texasor the US. Power, with its octopus hands is squeezing individuals out of their shits everywhere. Look at my language, people; got a bit street-type. I blame the System that leaves no options for people like us, poor, ordinary fellas whose medical bills exceed ten times their earnings, but to express our discontentment and frustration in the basest of languages. One thing is true; with this article we are not trying to bring in balance to what is already a mess of injustice, murder, treachery and treason. We are just mourning or so to speak, humouring ourselves.

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John Grisham’s latest bestselling novel The Racketeer, reminded me of The Castle written by the Deutsche writer Franz Kafka, where an innocent man was one day faced by the agents of the government. In The Racketeer, Malcolm Bannister was arrested for money laundering and sent away for ten years. He gives his bank account number to one of his clients and the client uses this account as a safe place for the sacks of money made from real estate business and illegal mining.

Think about this situation for a moment. If you work online, for example, of you were a writer working online, it would surely be a worrying idea to imagine yourself in Malcolm Bannister’s place. Imagine, you were supposed to be paid by your client INR 1000 or USD 1000, but the amount you received was four more zeroes extra with the amount you asked for. What would you do with the excess money dumped into your bank account? What if some agent from the government knocked on your door, the next morning?

The thought that somewhere there might be such a fate waiting, is surely unsettling. But the tension about such an event is mostly due to this reckless system of justice we lamely cater as our sign of civilization. The word justice itself has been deeply corrupted and means only a court’s jurisdiction based on a set of defined parameters, and defined indeed, by some self-proclaimed ‘law expert’, and nothing else.

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What if the court’s jurisdiction goes wrong? Isn’t that funny; you stand in front of the judge, asking for mercy and nothing, absolutely nothing else, to substantiate your innocence in order to get you out of there? But why wouldn’t you argue in the court, disproving the allegations and all? Because the pressure of being looked up at as the culprit or the label criminal is very heavy. You are flown away by your own emotions, fears, and concerns over loved ones.  

Isn’t that funny?

No.

Funny is not the word. It is surely a matter of grave concern. But as a matter of fact, let John Grishamwrite about it and the Americans fret over it. As a person living in India, I have my limitations. One of my friends asks; “Why are there no legal thrillers written in India?”

I say; “Because we are a bit ‘uneasy’ about the right to freedom of speech.”

If you feel insecure, confused or afraid, about this—about all this; the games of the hunter and the hunted—instead blaspheming against the System, try to say out loud; Kafka screwed us up. 

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The Racketeer—A Review of John Grisham’s Novel

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“Helluva job.” (366)

The Racketeer (published in 2012) can be hailed in a one-liner. But this work of fiction is more than conclusive in a single line of exclamatory phrase. John Grisham, in his latest novel pulled off a smart job as a writer of thrillers. The Racketeer is an ideal suspense thriller, with none in elegance and ingenuity to follow. In Grisham’s own words, which he notes at the ‘Author’s Note’ section of the book; “This is a work of fiction and more so than usual…Almost nothing in the previous 340 pages is based on reality….Long paragraphs of fiction were used to avoid looking up facts.” As controversial and audacious a statement this is, this attitude of the author invites criticisms as well.

The Racketeer received mixed reviews and most of the negative ones are tending to whack the author on the wrist for either supplying an entirely fictional background for the story, or shying away from painstaking research, which is, as some readers may feel, meant by “long paragraphs of fiction were used to avoid looking up facts.” I remember from somewhere, fiction is the truth in the lie we live in. However, above all criticisms, The Racketeer shins as the peak of a writerly success in two ways—one; the imaginary landscape of Grisham spreads beyond the limitations and dominating structures of facts and the so-called ‘researched writing’. Two—Malcolm Bannister aka Max Reed Baldwin is a remarkable character, who could win a space in the line with Holden Caulfield and David Copperfield, though much farther in the line.

 

John Grisham
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The Racketeer narrates the story of Malcolm Bannister in first person. A black, small town lawyer, Malcolm Bannister, got arrested under the RICO—Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organization Act, “an often flexible and famously flexible federal law.”

He is in prison and decides to help the Federal Bureau of Investigation in solving the murder of a federal judge—Judge Raymond Fawcett. “It’s payback time,” says the front cover, but you might not get the slightest idea what or when this is going to happen. The climax is awaited, eagerly, with the turn of each page. And the reader knows that the narrator is taking him or her into a journey of intriguing suspense, with the promise of catharsis at the end. If TheConfession and The Racketeer are to be read as one long novel, with the two books being two parts of the large one book, with different characters connected with similar backgrounds, then The Racketeer could rightly be called one long cathartic moment, from the beginning of the story to its ending. The Federal Government is avenged for the murder of Donte Drumm.  

 

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Though some areas in The Racketeer’s plot, especially the scenes related to the airport, international travel and the FBI, seem foggy and shallow, the skilled Grisham keeps his control and never fails his craft. The very statement “long paragraphs of fiction were used to avoid looking up facts” shows the risk in writing this book. Grisham overcomes this risk elegantly. The story is in total control of the writer. Readers must wait and watch the ‘reality show’ the Malcolm Bannister (or John Grisham) puts up.

The Racketeer is also about the fight of the individual in a world run by corrupted agencies and systems, where “it didn’t matter if a couple of us might be innocent, nor did it matter that our version of truth would be distorted by the government.” (63) In order to subjugate the Power Clouds and the structures of dominance, resorting ‘facts’ or accepted norms would be the last of the measures to succeed. The Racketeer is a writerly response toward such a world system that never negotiates terms with the ordinary individual. Malcolm Bannister’s fight is against the modern dictatorship of the United States of America, very much similar in its response to justice to every other so-called sovereign nation across the world.   

 

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The message of hope in The Racketeer is very much similar to Wall of Colours. This message awaits each and every reader going through its pages; it silently whispers to us that you don’t always need to be on the receiving end.  

This book review is sponsored by Mysmartprice.com/books

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Interest Rate

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“The young and energetic secretary or clerk or someone, I don’t know what she exactly is, is the only reason I went to the Sloppy Bunk of India.” Racer (name imaginary) said with a conspicuously agitated temperament. He was talking about a bank. He said “Bunk” in order to avoid any legal problems. He was very careful, especially in public.

“You know what, she—that secretary__”

“Clerk.” I cut in.

“Yea, clerk; she is pretty, you know. I mean beautiful. Nice eyebrows, nose and all.” Racer brightened his façade with a smile.

I did not know that my childhood friend Racer could be such a connoisseur of feminine appearance.

“I go to bank only to pay the exam fee. I don’t even take the concept of ‘savings’.” I said.

Racer did not seem to hear what I said. As I was about to rephrase my point, Racer with dreamy eyes and an amorous mood stumbled back upon his topic.

“I was in the bank the other day with a handful of money.” He said.

When Racer says a handful of money, he means his monthly salary; INR 6000; USD 110.66 (as on 6^th May 2013); Euros 84.48 (as on 6^th May 2013). Racer should sustain himself the whole month with this meager amount. He was a temporary guest faculty at a self financing college. Among the community of Guest Lecturers, his kinds are the least fortunate ones. The government colleges offer a better pay. Those who work in the self-financing colleges are literally squeezed by the management, like galley slaves.

“I ask the guard in the bank, the guy with a gun and a faded khaki uniform, which receipt I should fill, in order to deposit money.” Racer continues. “There are forms aplenty; receipts and bills are many on the counter.” He said.

“Aplenty…hmmm…” I thought.

“There are white ones, red ones and green ones. Sometimes, there are even grey receipts too. Many of these have multiple purposes, it seems. But most of them ask for the same details from you—your account number, amount in Rupees and in words and date.

“The guard, the gate keeper of that whorehouse of money, doesn’t respond. There are other people; people with rich smells, in white shirt and white dhoti, or in sari and with a lot of gold, and with the keys of their vehicles worn on their fingers like wedding ring, extracting some extent of playfulness with it and also those who work inside the cubbyholes. The guard attends only those affluent folks.

“By the time I fill the bill or receipt or whatever you call that pitiful lifeless leaf of paper, which asks the same information over and again…that dumb piece of bureaucratic arrogance, it is about twelve pii em.”

Racer paused for effect.

“So it went well?” I enquired, already bored.

“Went well? Ha!” He scoffed. “There were six or seven counters for transaction.”

“Did you go to Cannanore branch?” I cut in, once again.

“Yes,” Racer said.

“Then six counters.” I stated.

“Ok, six. I don’t remember, exactly. Man, it is hard even to think of the crowd. Neck to neck, you know. Someone stepped over my feet. I got very irritated. I was standing in the tail of one of the lines. I was getting a bit hungry too. Then I saw that the clerk in the counter I was standing at—a young man of about twenty six, in counter 4—was chatting with the female secretary I told you about.”

“Clerk!” I said.

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“Ok…ok…that female clerk. She was cooing with the male clerk on the desk in front of the queue I was standing half a mile away. It hardly seemed a possibility that I may reach the starting point and deposit my cash. And over the top is this chitchat! Wasn’t this on our patience that they are building their castle of romance? Well, I didn’t know if they were romancing for that matter, but I got really infuriated!”  

 “Then?” I blurted out, without waiting, eager to end his bluff.

“Then what? I went straight to the beautiful creature,” Racer said with a smile. “I told her to shut up! These bank officers, they are nothing but helpers with our money. The common folk are the authority of the money these clerks sit on and enjoy and eat.” When racer said this I noticed his fist going tight, rising a few feet and reaching his shoulder level. “So I told her to keep her arrogance inside her purse, and not to shove it upon our face. ‘You help us manage our money. You don’t own us,’ I said. And that pretty clerk went pale and red. She was around in her twenties too, you know.” Racer paused again.

“Then what happened?” I said with some interest in his story from the turn the things in the bank took.

“Then? Well, then finally, the guard approached me, but this time with his gun. You see, he is just a security guy and I am a lecturer. But nothing works there in that parlour of arrogance. Don’t trust them; these banks. They are so…so…arrogant! And they threw me out!”   

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

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Eragon: the Drrrraagon moovieeee

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It doesn’t matter if you believe in dragons. What matters is if you are ready to own one.

Eragon (Ed Speleers), a farm boy gets a dragon for himself, and becomes a Dragon Rider to save the land of Alagaësiafrom the cruel and despotic ruler Galbatorix. The seventeen year old boy was out hunting at night, with his uncle peacefully asleep in their house. Arya, the princess of Ellesméra is chased by the wicked shade named Durza, a sorcerer. Arya had stolen a stone from the king, Galbatorix. When Arya (Sienna Guillory) is sure she is busted by Durza, she transports the stone to another place and it appears in front of Eragon, the naïve farm boy, in his adventure at night in the woods.

Stefen Fangmeier’s direction is praiseworthy. He condensed the bulky book that goes by the same name as the movie, written by the American writer, Christopher Paolini. Mark D. Rosenthal and Jesse Wigutow, the two screen writers, clearly helped Fangmeier to condense the novel into the movie. And it works too, although to a certain extent. Frankly, it is not The Lord of the Rings.

Whether Eragon, the village boy could raise himself to be the saviour of a land is the theme of the movie. The dragon egg that Arya transports to Eragon hatches and a little dragon comes out of it. Within the length of a few days itself, the dragon grows bigger. You might think if a dragon grows so fast, will it get aged early, too? But then that will be like asking why there are two ‘d’s in Buddha.

Sienna Guillory
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It’s not very clear to me if they have hired the guys from The Lord of the Rings, but still, the graphics and special effects are fairly good. There is a lot of influence by the Gallic culture. For instance, the name Galbatorix means 'the big king'. Most of the magic words used in the movie too are taken directly from the ancient European culture. 

The dragon that comes out of the blue egg, and becomes the companion to Eragon is called Saphira. Just like any other dragon, she is expected to spit fire. But we have to wait until she gets matured and grows up to the age when she can play with fire. There is one thing special, though, about Saphira. She can read Eragon’s mind, because he is her rider.

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If you still remember the dragons and sorcerers from the mind of the child you once were, you will like this movie. Otherwise, you may not.  

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Hoover Building?

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Ididn’t know what this was. I never cared.

This argument has been around for some time. They say if I should get across the struggle to possess a permanent job, I would be required to qualify the job tests, and in order to get through the job tests, one requires General Knowledge.

General Knowledge?

Yea, you know what this is, don’t you? A potion that is part buried in the history and part in the present—science, math, geography and whatever you can think or imagine about. Well, it also depends on who prepares the question papers. For some even the date of birth of some dumb old politician is General Knowledge. Can’t blame them. So is the charm of this phrase—General Knowledge! Sometimes, this phrase even makes me feel that I am good for nothing.

The crux of the argument was related to my loves—things that I love the most doing. Reading is a skill I possessed in supreme ratios, as a young boy. As I grew up this skill grew with me, too. But as every gift goes, there is a ‘field of inclination’. I was inclined more towards reading fiction. Not that I despised non-fiction or poetry for that matter. Fiction had its hook and we had our own walks to take.

To put it simple, I was denied the pleasure a couple of times, at least to my memory, directly, of reading fiction due to the restrictions on living a life without GK. The question stands, why is fiction considered barren of any GK?

Even in my book Wall of Colours, I think, the best part is what you learn about a variety of subjects, and not just a bunch of stories. In a world, where knowing is controlled and limited by a criteria set by the ‘rulers’, one cannot read a book just for one purpose. There should be multiple purposes for a book; otherwise, the majority of population is reluctant to buy it. I have seen scenes the like in book shops I visit. There parents or even kids, stand in front of the book shelves, spending a considerably long time in weighing the ‘usefulness’ in buying a book. Eventually, it is rare that such people end up in buying fiction. They purchase Yearbooks and go back home gloomily.

What I have to tell you here is something that shakes this assumption of the mainstream middle class homemakers that fiction offers no ‘facts’ or GK, as they sum up with their parochial and limited sense of understanding. Have you heard of Hooverbuilding? I did not know anything about it until I read The Racketeer, the latest best seller by John Grisham. Yes, the very same book I offered a review of. And by the way, the review will be published soon, as currently I am still in the process of reading it.

“…Victor Westlake was settled back into his routine and office on the fourth floor of the Hoover building in Washington.” (205)

I thought a moment for Hooverbuilding, but remembered nothing of the sort. Like everyone else struck with something uncommon or unknown, I went to Google.

Built in the 1960s, the J. Edgar Hoover Buildingis the office of the FBI, the Federal Bureau of Investigation. The building is situated in the US, at 935 Pennsylvania Avenue NWin Washington, D.C.

Here is a screen shot.

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Now tell me what you learn from it.

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