The Dormant State

THE DORMANT STATE

DIBYA SATPATHY

Copyright © 2016 by Dibya Satpathy.

ISBN:      Softcover   978-1-4828-6007-8

                eBook       978-1-4828-6006-1

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

Dedicated to my grandfather (aja) Dr L N Kar……for instilling in me, the love for writing.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

I t isn’t natural for a soldier to sit and write a story. A set of equally crazy and hysteric people are responsible for driving me to this extreme. I cannot let this piece of work see the day of light without acknowledging their contribution.

My lovely parents, Durga and Minati Satpathy, who allowed me to grow the way I always wanted to.

To, Sthita, a brother who stands like a rock forever.

Nimitta, the sis-in-law, who beautifully compliments the family. The rest of the flock that cannot be named here, as they would consume many pages.

To a bunch of school friends that have sparkled the memory with a million worthy moments. Special thanks to Sidhanta Patnaik and his friend Manoj Narayan from Wisden India for helping me with the editing work.

To a school that has always encouraged a free mind, and where creativity is nurtured naturally.

To my organisation, the Indian Army.

To my lovely wife, Minoo. I couldn’t have completed it but for your constant kicks and pep talks.

Lastly, but in no ways the least, to the ‘dormant state’, my state and my people.

"There is no air that freshens up the breath as your air,

There is no sky that soothes the mind as your sky,

There is no water that quenches the thirst as your water,

There is no touch that heals as your touch,

For, you my mother, are my origin, my destiny and you shall be my end."

I f Darwin was to live today, this great country of ours could have given him eternal pleasure. There could be no other place in the whole world that would justify the theories of survival. The fascinating madhouse that we have created for ourselves to live in, get irritated and yet feel patriotic about is a mystery. We protested peacefully, fought non-violently and got our freedom from the British Monarchy. We then formed our own version of a cocktail democracy, wherein each ingredient fights for its identity without realising that the real kick comes only if the drink is stirred up well.

History has bequeathed adequate honours to some fascinating personalities that have evolved in our great land. It is not very difficult to be famous in a land that has so many shades of confusing characteristics. Nobody is a hero or a villain here, it is circumstances and social equations that make or break your character here.

So when a leader feels the urge to splurge millions of dollars for a nuclear bomb while thousands of people die of poverty, she is still honoured for her courageous stand. So when a man peacefully fights out the British by uniting a jigsaw puzzle to a country, he can still be blamed for the partition. So when a leader spends millions of dollars in building symbols of social equilibrium while the lower caste still suffers from acute poverty and lack of amenities, she is revered as a messiah.

To put it simply, emotions take over decisions and personalities take over ideologies in our great nation. The most engrossing of the national activities which engages almost 1/4th of the population either directly or indirectly is politics. People in India, love talking, arguing, criticising or just being in politics. Nothing symbolises India as much as the land’s politics. The diversity it displays, the equality it offers and the opportunity it creates are all what modern India is built from.

This implausible epitome of a democracy is endowed with a political setup that was messy right from its inception. However, it is also the most empowering tool of the democratic set up that binds this mystery of a land together.

The book’s story revolves around characters and incidents that could evolve our setup. It is a story about few young men who enter this wilderness and shun their true characters gradually, before becoming masters of the same system they once despised. It captures a series of events that shape the ambitions of a young man who sets out with noble dreams and revolutionary ideas of changing the system.

Does he succeed? Or, does the system overwhelm him? Or even better, does he learn the trick to balance his act?

CHAPTER 1

A niruddh Mishra was born in the mid 1980s – a period when India was this giant elephant growing at the infamous Hindu Rate of growth. A promising country with a million challenges and a billion people. He grew up to the haunting tunes of Doordarshan and the social barricades set by the daily soaps like ‘Hum Log’. Television in India was only as old as him. Telephone was a luxury few could afford, and a four-wheeler was the ultimate status symbol. It was an India just recovering out of the image of a country of ‘ snake char mers’.

Education was strictly ghettoised between the public school kids and the kids attending government schools. Aniruddh was fortunate enough to have been attending a public school. The topic of discussion in most social circles in those days had shifted from the regular political trash to what’s-your-kid-doing-after-college. It was an era when literature was publicly shunned in the academic sphere and people embraced science. The study of language and its intricacies were considered a waste of one’s time as the computer languages quite unceremoniously replaced the Shakespearean vocabulary. It was an era when social evenings and sports were superseded by tuitions and computer classes. A host of computer institutes mushroomed all around the urban areas and almost created a social apartheid against those who dared to stay unaware of this new technical wonder. Parents would wish that their kid was born with a mainframe cord instead of an umbilical cord. They decided that something as important as choosing one’s career should not be left to the naïve wisdom of the child and that the decision has to be taken by them.

Aniruddh also grew up in the same social strata with unsophisticated middle class expectations of his parents. He grew up in an academic environment that was slowly turning hostile even to kids who would score above 80%. The 100% mark was the in-thing.

An environment where parents encouraged their kids to give up everything in pursuit of those middle class expectations that in simple words meant – score more marks. Indulgence in sports, cultural or any other professional activity would bring in doom. Everybody cannot become a Sachin Tendulkar or an Amitabh Bachchan, so stop dreaming about one and be practical in life, would be the most heard about dialogue for a generation that grew up then.

Professions like law or journalism would be shunned for their lack of earning abilities, music would be condemned in the worst form and painting was considered a poor man’s activity. Business would be left for the Ambani’s and the Tata’s for it was beyond the reach of the middle class. Everything that involved any amount of struggle or risk would seem unachievable to a generation that lived throughout an era of austerity in aspirations. A generation that struggled for the basics could never really imagine anything ambitious for its children.

The safer choice was always preferred and that made medicine and engineering, the most popular career options for the middle class. The Information Technology wave that got along with it the scope of a guaranteed job would make Engineering the most craved for option. The new mantra of success was a 90% score in the board exams, followed by an entry into a good junior college, followed by a comfortable rank in the competitive exams, followed by an entry into a prestigious engineering or medical college to get a degree and take the first flight to USA.

Education in India was never about learning and trying to improve one’s knowledge. It was never about satisfying a curious mind filled with questions and certainly never about giving someone the right to question the theories and break the stereotype. Education here has always been confined to being a medium for social acceptance and a gateway to earn a livelihood. It has never encouraged anyone here to develop a sense of curiosity that could lead to an invention or a discovery. People here are not too serious about the knowledge they would gain, the more important thing would always be the question of what you would gain out of this knowledge.

Then came the days of 8% growth rate and this sleeping giant was slowly waking up from its slumber. The effect of the second phase of globalization and the economic reforms had begun to reflect. After an almost undisturbed rule of 44 years the country finally decided to bid farewell to the Congress government as the lotus bloomed out. The country voted for a man called Atal Bihari Vajpayee as the Prime Minister. The people of this great nation were slowly waking up to a change that would for the first time affect everyone irrespective of their class, creed, sex or religion. India was marketed to the world like never before. A country that could give a bloody nose to its adversaries when it came to misadventures and could display its nuclear capabilities even under immense international opposition. From individuals who dominated the Silicon Valley to doctors that earned global respect for themselves. From a handful of local billionaires registering their names in the catalogue of the rich and powerful to a couple of them winning the Nobel Prize. Suddenly India and Indians were finding a space for themselves in the talking towers of the international community. The success story of this South-Asian marvel soon attracted a host of investors as the country would now welcome them with open arms.

The socio-economic makeover of India was also quite visible from the change in the living standards of the people. The birth of cable network and DTH revolutionised the idea of broadcasting in the country. A horde of channels kicked the haunting intro tune of the Doordarshan, and they gave way to sassy daily soaps. The Maharaja of the Air India was pecked by Kingfisher and a host of other private players in the business. The fore walls of the Indian household had no space for the Gandhi’s and the Nehru’s as new age role model like Sachin Tendulkar and Shahrukh Khan had made their way in. The 100 million mobile subscribers ripped apart the socio–economic partitions the BSNL had carved in for the upper class. The Indian society was slowly getting divided into two distinct classes–the haves and the have-nots.

The Indian success story opened up new avenues of employment for the youth. The IT sector was seen as the single largest employer as it needed lakhs of Engineering graduates to satisfy its rapidly growing appetite for cheap technical labour. Engineers were the new B.A.’s, and Engineering and Medical colleges mushroomed all around the country. These colleges got along with them a weed called ‘Tutorials’. As developing India offered professions that were hitherto unknown, parents became more and more liberal in offering choices to their kids. They were now open to all sorts of professional studies that their kids were interested in, provided it was legally accepted. The jinx on a certain professional choice was certainly eroding fast. The Indian father realised that even his son could be a Sachin or a Sourav Ganguly. Parents got more enthusiastic in making their kid a sportsman as they walked their five-year-old kid into a cricket or tennis academy. The dance reality shows on television made the whole country look like a dance academy, as parents became desperate to see their kids in those shows. The middle class Indian was suddenly finding himself making ways to the primetime. It seemed as if a generation was desperate to see their kids live their unfulfilled dreams. Melodramatic emotional outbursts on camera and near infant kids pushed to perform on the stage was the new high of the Indian middle class. It seemed as if the middle class was suddenly trying to break the shackles of the mediocrity that they were tied to for a long time. Certainly both India and Indians were changing. Although it was difficult to say who was living whose dreams?

Meanwhile, this social rage gave birth to a few misfits. One of them was Aniruddh Mishra.

One fine afternoon, like most of his other colleagues who had their kids appearing for the Board exams, Shri Damodar Mishra had also taken a month’s leave from his department. The PI department was never a busy entity, so a month’s leave was not a problem for the ‘badababu’(UDC – upper division clerk). The leave was to ensure that Aniruddh would be serious with his studies and that he could sit next to him to keep a vigil on him. It clearly reflected the typical mindset in most Indian households.

It was noon and the city was bearing the worst of the summer brunt. Mishra Sr had rolled over his dhoti so as to let the free underpass of cool air from his newly acquired Godrej air conditioner. It was lunch time and the Mishra family was on the dinning table. Aniruddh was sitting right across him and glaring onto some news channel on the 29-inch Samsung TV. The General elections were just over and the new government had taken office. The people of India were politically drained out by the extensive coverage from the various news channels. But the poor channels! They had to make news for 24 hours of the day. So every unusual thing became news and that was the phase that changed the definition of reporting in India. A bespectacled journalist with his highly flavored Bihari accent was proudly blaring his achievement of having done the presumably impossible thing of having caught an A grade bollywood star with a female in a restaurant. The jubilation in the eyes of the journalist could easily be compared to any Nobel Laureate at the award ceremony.

What nonsense is this? exclaimed an annoyed Aniruddh.

These media guys can clearly make a mountain out of a mole. The 24x7 news channels have made a mockery of sensible journalism, said Aniruddh, cherishing the roasted brinjal.

He he…poor guy, now they will make his life hell, these guys will now park right outside his house with their OB vans and crew, chuckled Aniruddh’s baby sister Deepti, sitting next to him. Deepti was five years younger to his brother and was in the same school as him.

So Ani baba, have you decide anything as yet? questioned Mr Mishra. A son is often addressed as ‘baba’ either out of extreme affection or when he is being trapped into a conversation.

You must concentrate on your board exams as of now, but do keep in mind the entrance exams that would follow, added Mr Mishra carefully separating the bones out of the hilsa fish.

Beta, this is the most crucial time of your life, be very serious now. You saw how Pradeep got through IIT last year. The kid used to study for 18 hours. That is the amount of effort required to get through any college now, now it was Mrs Mishra who spoke, in an unusually soft voice as she was on a fast and had to survive only on half a dozen bananas, four apples and glass full of mango shake.

Look beta, I do not want to sound enforcing, but I am really interested in knowing about your decision, added Mishra Sr struggling to pull out every single edible part out of the Rs 250 per kilogram hilsa. Yes, it is a fact, Odias and Bongs can be outlandishly lavish when it comes to fish.

So, what’ s running in your mind, son? You know we are not that kind of parents who would force their decision on their kids, repeated Mrs Mishra.

Papa, I don’t want to sit for the engineering entrance exams, replied Aniruddh firmly and almost abruptly. May be he was planning to break this shocking news for quite some time now.

That’s okay, Ani, if you don’t want to be an engineer, nobody will force you. Medicine is also an equally lucrative career provided you can crack the entrance, jumped in Mrs Mishra, with a concerned look as distinct folds appeared on her forehead.

No, ma, not even the medical. Why do you guys get stuck with medical and engineering? There are so many other interesting things out there, said the frustrated teenager. These are moments any teenager would hate to go through, especially when he has to justify his wish to do something different than what others have been doing. Firstly, the poor guy convinces himself and then he has to go around convincing the whole world.

Okay, so what’s running in your mind? You need to be frank with us, maybe we can advice you better. Beta, we shall encourage you in any endeavour, said Mr Mishra trying to win over the confidence of his young son.

Papa, I want to do a graduation in Arts, with Political Science as my honours subject, and then do a Post Graduation in Public Administration or Masters in Social Work before finally getting into active politics, replied Aniruddh as his parents looked at him, as though he had revealed the plans of getting into the organised crime sector. Mr Mishra’s face turned sour and his wife took some time to gather strength out of her already fasting-affected weak body.

Damodar babu always knew that his son wanted to do something different, but never had he imagined that the definition of ‘different’ was so rebellious in his son’s dictionary. It was rather unassuming for an 18-year-old guy brought up in a typical middle class upbringing to reveal his interest in politics so blatantly. It was indeed blasphemous for a teenager in those days to aspire to become a politician in India.

Mrs Mishra was visibly furious with the ideas of her son and immediately rebutted him in the most aggressive tone.

Are you out of your mind, kid? Listen, this is not the time to joke around with life. If you joke around now then life will joke with you throughout. Don’t think that life is a bed of roses as it has been till now…

It would always remain a mystery as to how mothers get these classy dialogues about life and its nuances. Maybe it was the effect of the daily soaps that they cherished every evening.

Calm down Vimla. Look Ani, I appreciate your frankness and respect your attitude of service to the nation. But I would suggest, you do something more professional, earn a name for yourself and then enter public life, said Mr Mishra to his son.

Papa, as you know I have been involved in a lot of social activities since my early school days. I want to continue doing the same, but at a level where I can bring in a certain difference to the society. Moreover, I shall complete my education and thereafter join in. I want to learn the nuances of politics and public administration through proper education and then take a dip in it. The conviction in the young guy was certainly admirable.

Son, we are middle class people, neither do we have the power nor an established platform to enter into public foray. Moreover, you are old enough to know the filth that surrounds politics. Don’t you? added his mother.

"Ma, I shall make my own platform, one doesn’t need power to serve people and make changes. One needs the conviction to do so and the