Exit-stance by Atreya Sarma

Courtesy - Muse India: Issue 39, September/October 2011


Book Review

Harish Trivedi
Exit-stance
A Play
The Sharonom Media Group (2011)
895 Kentshire Drive, Dayton, Ohio 45459-2327
Pages 46+ :: Price $15.95
ISBN 978-0-578-07767-3


Drama of an old man refusing to die and hell-bent on living

Here lies OM.
OM.Com!
OM, calm at last and silenced forever!
Life has deserted OM; and Death, as always, has won!
His body was burnt not at the stakes
But at an electric crematorium. And
What remained was a heap of ashes
Salvaged from an ass-hole.
An ash hole for an asshole!
Finally dissolved with the five elements.

The above seriocomic poetic epitaph is scripted by OM – for himself, the only protagonist in the melodramatic one-Act monodrama - Exit-stance – who lives his final days in a nursing home for assisted living; and is torn between life and death, between traces of hedonism and shadowy spiritualism; and who suffers isolation and loneliness. And the character, who has none to turn to, presents us with a lot of gallows humour. In one moment, OM is curious about - and wants to see - his own death. So he says:

“No one has ever said what it’s like to be dead. I want to enjoy my death. I want to be fully aware of my final escape, the ultimate liberty!”

But in another moment, he is dead scared of death; and is insistent on living out. What for? Yes, he wants to enjoy the life the way he wants to. His libido is aroused when the nurses attend on and touch him. “… a mere thought of lust and sex keeps me alive!”

But soon he realises, albeit fleetingly, and despairs: “But what good is lust when youth has fled?” and taunts himself, “What a pathetic and perverse craving for human touch!” But is sexual urge an abomination or an abnormality for a man of his age? OM answers: “Lust and desires are normal feelings. And I think I am too just f…ing normal!” Mind you, this is not the only time OM chooses the four-letter word; he, in fact, suffers from oral diarrhoea of them. The doc tries to dissuade him from the compulsive addiction, but to no avail, for habits die hard, much less the instinctually obscene ones.

We’re treated to bouts of bawdy jokes, every now and then. He even makes fun of his name OM – the sacred Hindu syllable as well as an acronym of how he is called, Old Man. In a disgusting mood, he has this dig at his name: “I am not THAT OM! Instead of ‘OM tat sat’, I am OM tat shit…”

When it comes to the male doctors, he feels “like grabbing the crotch of a student doctor and squeezing his balls” whenever he is “upset and angry.” But the sight of a female nurse turns him on. “If this is a nursing home then why a big bosomed nurse hasn’t nursed me?” he longingly rues.

By now it’s evident that OM is certainly not in the class of a Tennyson’s Ulysses synonymous with a spirit of adventure and the concomitant heroic struggle or of a Hemingway’s Santiago, a symbol of stoic and silent struggle. OM, no doubt, has no nobler goals for the remainder of his life, yet he wages a struggle - a paranoid mental conflict; and also suffers an ethnic conflict and a cross-cultural dilemma, having his roots in India – though untraceable – but living in America. He pooh-poohs the various racial and sub-racial identities, and asks – why can’t all of us be just humans - for he finds himself to be neither an American nor an Indian? Despite his quarantined existence, “deaf and legally blind” status, a life of vacuum, “Isolation, desolation, frustration and anger,” and his body being “nothing but an ill-smelling heap of bones, skin and blood,” - he is hell-bent on surviving and continuing to live … to enjoy the good things of life!

And OM, by that very token of being an ordinary mortal like most of us, is a representative of a massive majority. So everyone can relate to and touch a chord with him. It’s how Harish Trivedi - the playwright – moulds the character of OM, in a postmodernist universal cast influenced as he is by Nobel laureate Samuel Beckett in whose birth centenary homage he wrote this play.

It needs guts and creativity of a high order to write a full length piece on the travails and derisive idiosyncrasies of a typical old man and the dreadful old age. The author has, evidently, succeeded in closely and deeply studying the geriatric psychology from various angles. He extracts the secrets from the darker recesses of the protagonist’s subconscious and makes him boldly and unhesitatingly vent his feelings.

No wonder, Harish Trivedi could bring it off what with his credentials. An Indian American – living in the US from mid 1960s – Harish has a doctorate in Theatre and Communication and is an associate of the Dramatists Guild of America. He is also a prolific journalist-poet-writer-translator – with his works appearing in English, Gujarati and Hindi. He is the founder Trustee & Chairman of the India Foundation in Dayton, Ohio; “his plays have a distinct Indian ethos” appealing to the “sense and sensibilities of viewers and readers… in the US,” says the author’s profile appended in the book.

Not everything OM chants can be dismissed as senile balderdash. Some of his observations stand out as a testimony to his wide reading, poetic taste, wit, experience, and keen observation of life. We also perceive that he is ‘bipolar’ – tossed between American materialism and Indian spiritualism, though he quips he is ‘multi-polar’ to the doctor’s diagnosis that he is bipolar. Tongue in cheek, OM remarks that the staff at the nursing home “changes frequently and fast – even more often than my bed sheets or towels.”

OM draws a nuanced distinction between freedom and liberation, while in an extreme mood of dejection. “I don’t need freedom; it is meaningless! I need liberation, liberation from my self.” All of us know that in our world - a topsy-turvy world full of hypocrisy - appearance need not be reality. See how OM puts it: “People are always pretending. Life itself is pretending – Pretending, masking, and hiding!”

Also notice how effectively OM portrays the monotony of the grind of a life lived cosmetically: “I used to go to a spa every day. Going around the jogging track, walking or running on the treadmill, lifting weights, riding a stationary bicycle… doing all that and still remaining in the same place.”

OM’s mind goes through a chiaroscuro of memories – of movies, music, books of literature, great personalities; as a result we’ve a quotation to suit his every mercurial mood. Being an American Indian, his mind sweeps across the Western world as well as India. Scriptures like the Rig Veda, the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, aphoristic literature like Bhartrihari Shataka, movies like Gigi (English) Jagate Raho, and Mera Naam Joker; diverse personalities like Mahatma Gandhi, Ezra Pound, Robert Frost, PB Shelley, Neil Armstrong, Mata Hari, Freud, Descartes, Maurice Chevalier, and Clarence Day are paraded before us.

All this hyperactivity of his mind erases the timelines for him so much so he feels that he exists “in a timeless zone!”

OM’s self-unsettling loneliness causes a mental drift in him. He imagines things; he sees a cat that isn’t there; and even plays with it, only to drive it away. He is ‘the Duke of Darkness’ and “a camera obscura, a dark chamber with a lens that has turned things upside down.” At the same time, his bizarre and disjointed thoughts sometimes glimmer with coherence and agreeable reason.

Mortally afraid of death, for all his iconoclastic philosophy, OM panics and collapses on seeing (in his hallucinations) a duster plane hovering over him. When he comes to, he flies into a flash of eschatological spirituality and reconciliation by invoking the Holy Grail, the Five Elements and the Shanti mantra; but even before the chant is over, he swoops down onto his wonted earthly bohemian reality where he belongs and declares “I do not need to find any holy or unholy grail… for me it is always going to be singing and dancing…,” unmindful of his irreversible physical limitations! So go on and celebrate the bacchanalian revelry!

Thus, “Important is the OM’s universality… He is a kind of everyman ranting about the injustices of life. His ethnic identity fixes the play in reality, but the specific Indian identification of OM transcends mere individual concerns…,” remarks Dr Robert Conrad, Professor Emeritus, Dept of Languages, University of Dayton, Ohio, and he proceeds to teleologize the character’s raison d’être: “OM maintains his dignity with irony and humor as he confronts his end. His disquieted suffering and his methods of coping provide a bitter hope to all who face the last stage of existence.”

The strength of this one-act & one-character play lies, perhaps, more in its performance than in its reading as a closet drama – unless the latter is taken up with necessary breaks, for otherwise the reader could feel some monotony however powerful the monologues are. The writer has incorporated elaborate stage directions; and set the play, aptly, in a late winter night. Following these directions and with assured technical effects, histrionics, and music regularly fading in and fading out - the punch and poignancy, the absurd and the black humour would briskly come into bold relief in performance. And yes, the play has a good track record: having been staged at Clayton and Cincinnati, Ohio; while the author rendered its staged reading at a theatre in Mumbai, sponsored by the government of Maharashtra.

Exit-stance - More than a play on words By Tevia Abrams

Harish Trivedi, transplanted from India and residing in Dayton, Ohio, sends an old curmudgeon on a theatrical journey in a nursing home; it is a journey at once harrowing, comedic and totally existential. I refer to the one-character play, ‘Exit-stance’, which Trivedi wrote in 2006 in homage to playwright Samuel Beckett’s birth centenary, and which was premiered in Ohio in 2007, with subsequent production the following year at the Cincinnati Fringe Festival. Curmudgeon of the piece is OM, or Old Man, who serves, among other purposes, as metaphor for the immigrant’s condition within American society.

As I came across a copy of the script only recently, I am unable to report on the original production; however, I was impressed in the reading by Trivedi’s manner of tracing OM’s voyage in monologue form through loneliness, isolation and despair, despite the proffered medical services, facilities and managed care within the confines of his nursing home. To make matters worse for OM, he is hobbled at the very outset of his journey by the fact that he is both deaf and legally blind.

The monologue form is enlivened through the use of audio and visual effects to heighten audience interest. So there are snippets of nostalgic American and Indian songs – some even from old Indian films, as, for example, ‘Zindagi Kwab Hai’ from the film ‘Jagate Raho’:

“Zindagii khvaab hai khvaab men jhuuth kyaa Aur bhalaa sach hai kyaa Sab sach hai Zindag I kvab hai”

In his tirades, interspersed with poetic asides, OM curses his entrapped situation; but in a calmer and more thoughtful moment, he can say, with resignation: “This is a warehouse for old people. No, this is a place for rich homeless people, people whom nobody wants, society’s rejects.”

At this point in the play, we learn that the old man is aware of the broader meaning of his existence: “So OM I am. OM is the first sound, the first Word – ‘Aadee Swara’ in Sanskrit, the first symbol of the entire universe.” But he quickly turns from it: “I am not THAT OM!” This is but one of many moments where we see OM struggling with intense desire to recapture some sense of personal worth and dignity.

Personal memory is important for OM, as he turns at times to comforting passages from the ‘Rig Veda’, where the ‘dawn’ is equated with hope. Given that he is now blind, OM cannot really share that hope.

All this might suggest the work a gloomy piece, but in fact the melancholy is balanced by moments of sardonic humor and by occasional sound bites of recorded poetry by Shelly and Robert Frost on beauty and dying. Other projections of sound, music, and occasional voices of cold institutional medical authorities help to broaden and enrich the landscape and cultural dimensions of the stage. And there is a tender moment with OM’s cat, whose mewing breaks a moment of dramatic silence.

As the play nears its close, OM offers a prayer that would appear to represent an utterance from his soul, his Atman. Is he ready to be reconciled to his fate?
“Remember, O Lord, remember OM; and remember my deeds . . . Peace! OM, shanti, shanti, shanti.”

But, no, the Old Man suddenly recoils from going the way of traditional acceptance of man’s fate. He’d rather take leave of the world in a jaunty manner, “singing and dancing . . . didn’t I say I had no regrets?” At this, the stage directions call for filling the theatre with Frank Sinatra’s bravado come-what-may song, ‘My Way’, which takes the play to its curtain.

I can only imagine how audiences might have responded to Trivedi’s sensitive mix of monologue with the varied Western and Indian audio materials. They must surely have been touched to the core by the OM’s struggles with hopes and fears about life, death, and the meaning of personal and social existence.


# # #

Tevia E. Abrams completed post-graduate studies on traditional Indian theatre with research focused on the Tamasha folk theatre form of Maharashtra, India.

Mr. Abrams, a Canadian, and now permanent US resident, was recruited by the United Nations Population Fund, and served variously at headquarters and in India. He is currently retired but remains committed to his playwriting activities.

Exit-stance - Publisher's Remarks

Publisher’s Remarks at the book launch event for Exit-stance, April 2, 2011 at Ajanta Indian Restaurant, Dayton, Ohio.


Good afternoon everybody and thank you Dr. Percy,


A few months back I decided to start this venture or adventure the Sharonom Media Group. And I am the owner and CEO.

You were probably expecting some big shot publisher from some big city, didn’t you?

But before I go into the details about what our Media Group is all about, I would like to say that Dr. Tom Percy, the long time Trustee and former President of the India Foundation and a very good friend has kindly agreed to formally launch our first publication. I will soon invite him to formally launch our first publication.

Exit-stance is the first publication of the Sharonom Meida Group and right now, while I am talking with you, the folks at the big time local Media Company is shaking in their pants.

According to my partner in this venture, The Sharonom Media Group will be involved in all sorts of media – films, stage shows, Broadway musicals, television, broadcasting, printing and publishing. We are going to have our presence in the cyber world too.

As our first project I signed up a relatively unknown writer from this town. I had to massage his big ego, entice him and kind of seduce him with all sorts of promises … and I am happy to say, it has worked – the publication of Exit-stance – a play written by Harish Trivedi.

For this special occasion, the Sharonom Media Group is offering a special discount. Regular price less the discount makes this book PRICE LESS.

The buyers of this very limited edition book will be provided with a certificate of ownership duly signed by the author himself.

The certificate would make the buyer the legal owner of the book that the buyer can hold and cherish in perpetuity and maybe read it again and again too …

So without much ado and with great pleasure and personal pride I would like to invite Dr. Tom Percy to launch the publication of Exit-stance.

Why I feel secure…

By Harish Trivedi,
© 2011

Your Editor says -

"For the first time, (as they say 'in my life' ) I feel secure like never before...."

* An insurance company is 'by my side',

* Another insurance company keeps telling me, 'State Farm is there...’ My problem is I do not know where 'there' is?

* A local TV channel keeps saying, 'On Your side', sometimes I get up in the middle of the night and instead of the lovely 'weather girl' (do they still use the term 'Weather Girl') I find my cat trying to get on the better part of my comforter,

* Since I wear the medical alert, I know if I

'fall and cannot get up'

some one will come and help me get up. This is something I am tempted to try... I am, according to some religious leaders already 'a fallen soul’ I wonder if the ‘bracelet people’ would help me get up...

* I know everything, I happen happen to have the entire 'Idiot's guide to....' books,

* My cereal contains 'daily required amount of fiber' so I don't have to chew on rug to alleviate any fiber deficiency.

* My yogurt contains the antioxidants that are good for me,

* My coffee is 'caffeine free’...

* I get more than required amount of BS from the TV talk shows and the talking heads...

* I have learned to live with socio-psychological issues from Dr. Phil,

* I know whom to call if I ever develop any symptoms of Mesothelioma, (even though the TV commercials do not say if one can developed the symptoms by being exposed to such commercials over a number of years...)

* The Ohio law has made it simple, only two individual needs to sign a statement that says, 'He is dangerous to him and needs to be confined....’ I know the 'missej' and my niece are ready to use that legal provision any time they think I am dangerous to myself - that happens to be all the time...so I am waiting for guys with straight-jacket'....

And finally (that is how such things are written), so And finally -

One more time - 'Again, as they say, having so many friends, who needs enemies?'

Exit-stance Ownership Certificate

Exit-stanceBook launch

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Ajanta Indian Restaurant
2 pm to 4. 30 pm


Exit-stance

Certificate of Ownership
I, (.....your name), take thee Exit-stance as my lawfully bought book at a discounted price.

I promise to protect, preserve and keep thee for life. I further promise not to loan my copy of Exit-stance to anyone or let anyone borrow thee from me.

Administrator of oath:

You now kiss your Twelve Dollars good bye and kiss your copy of Exit-stance.

I wish you pleasant reading.



Signed this day, Saturday, April 2, 2011

Exit-stance: Book Release Report

This is a very belated and long overdue 'news' report of the lanuching of Exit-stance (my play)


Exit-stance book launch event news report:

Note that no big time geriatric literary figure from Gujarat was asked to do the book launch, no fanfare (well there was some of it because the big time dramatist had paid for it), but definitely no press coverage with big photos and pompous speeches... Prior to the formal launching of the book, Dr. Raghava Gowda read excerpts from Exit-stance and that was followed by Sharonjee reading three scenes from my one-character play An Evening with Mary Carpenter. Both the readings lasted a little over twenty-minutes each with a very enthusiastic and standing ovation. (The standing part was due to lack of seats in the restaurant)

And here's my totally unobjective, dramatic and very self-serving report: (Some people just have no shame or any concept of modesty)

Dr. Tom Percy launched the book by tearing off the fancy gift-wrap in which the book was ensconced with a dramatic flourish - appropriate to the occasion and made equally generous remarks about the writing skills of the dramatist and his writing skills. Dr. Percy thanked the Publisher too for this very first publication under the Sharon Media Group banner.

The Publisher then invited the dramatist for his lofty and profound remarks that included his dramatic reading of the legal ownership certificate that was to be provided to the very enthusiastic or very reluctant (take your pick) guests. Over fifty very enthusiastic or reluctant guests clamored to buy a copy of Exit-stance, get their photos taken with the dramatist and of course the obligatory autograph and signed certificate of ownership from the dramatist was provided to all...(Some of the guests took more than one copy of the signed certificate and additional copies had to be printed)

During the remarks by the dramatist and at his urging (thinking that it was inevitable) many of the guests chose to rush for the dessert or to refill their wine glasses. Incidentally the cake was covered with a photo of the cover-page of the book. The cake was covered with the said photo that was printed on edible paper. Yes, this small city in the mid-west has very good bakeries run by descendants of German, Polish and Hugarian immigrants. One could actually hear their grunts from the back rooms where they bake such goodies. (The dramatist thought that the process of kneading the dough for bread and pastries was very sensuous and at times erotic and totally irrelevant part of this news report).

Later the niece of the dramatist Alpa Mahuvakar and her family hosted that evening a dinner with assistance from the Publisher where some thirty hand picked guests were present. The dinner menu was meticulously selected or prepared by Alpa and the Publisher. Merlot from Woodridge winery from the Sonoma Valley flowed like water and was consumed by few guests but mostly by the dramatist.

Just about the time when the guest were getting ready to stagger out of the restaurant, Alpa and the Publisher surreptitiously sprang open a big box of birthday cake. Even though the dramatist's birthday is usually in January this was a surprise celebration of the historic birthday. A truly big surprise for the dramatist! Every one sang Happy Birthday, some hummed while some faked singing. The dramatist made the thank you cum after dinner speech wherein he said how he and the misses generally request to be seated in the non-birthday section of a restaurant where they do not have to listen to some guest celebrating some relative, spouse or mistress's birthdays...

The dramatist now overwhelmed by some indescribable emotions, very tipsy and suddenly feeling very OLD, thanked the guests and staggered towards the car...

It is assumed that good time was had by all or at least by one person - the dramatist!

Now if you can correctly tell me how many times the words the dramatist has appeared in this report you may qualify for a prize that is not worth a damn! (Of course void where prohibited by law or spouse)

(Excerpted from Ass - ociated Press, very Random house report, Barns and Stables news and other unheard of news and wired services)

Re: A Rejoinder from Natwar Gandhi

Re: Missing the Point--Harsh Trivedi on Gujarati Diaspora Writing,
A Rejoinder by Natwar Gandhi

(Note: - The ‘rejoinder’ was ‘forwarded’ to me by a kind friend. Later Mr.Natwar Gandhi too sent me a revised version of his rejoinder. My reply to Mr. Gandhi is based on his original 'rejoinder')_

A reply to Natwar Gandhi’s ‘rejoinder’
By Harsh Trivedi
© June 2011.

Art thou troubled milord?
(From a Hymnal)

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks."
(William Shakespeare, Hamlet)

1) Harish Trivedi (his blog--2011) sees irony in publishing activities surrounding the launching of my book Pennsylvania Avenue.
Yes, I did see irony as well as hypocrisy, I must admit.
Next?

2) Further, newspaper interviews, dramatic readings of poems by stage actors at a well-publicized publishing event organized by the publisher—“the whole shindig”—smacks of hypocrisy to him. Quoting words from an article that I had written earlier criticizing such activities, Trivedi writes, “this proves that Natwar Gandhi is no exception to what he strongly abhors in others. Hypocrisy? Chutzpah or just plain audacity of hype—you be the judge.” If Trivedi is keen on proving that I am a hypocrite practicing what I criticize in others, he need not have wasted his considerable energy and several pages. The case could have been made quickly and easily and only in a few words. To the charge of hypocrisy, I plead guilty.

Physician, heal thyself…. The last sentence in 2) above could very well be applied to Natwarbhai’s long and rather self-serving exercise in rationalization. He admits, albeit grudgingly the validity of my criticism but abhors my guts for writing about it…

2) Harsh Trivedi (his blog--2011) sees irony in publishing activities surrounding the launching of my book Pennsylvania Avenue. In particular, favorable news paper columns by Mumbai’s literary lion Suresh Dalal, a well known Gujarati poet and publisher of the book, bothered him.

The fact that this so-called literary lion also happens to be the publisher of Natwarbhai’s book. So any laudatory note, deserved or undeserved constitutes a conflict of interest on the part of this lion. The fact that this particular newspaper continues to publish this lion’s writings as a piece of legit criticism further compounds the folly and makes the newspaper publishers complicit in this shenanigans. This is something worth bothering about, no complaining about and shouting about from the rooftops. Natwarbhai has ignored this important fact when he comes to the defense of this ‘lion’. Natwarbhai seems to follow the dictum don’t let facts come in the way of a good diatribe.

Suresh Dalal’s (the literary lion as Natwarbhai calls him) columns in newspapers and periodicals about works that are published by his own publishing house (well, may be he does not own it, but surely acts as if he does and no body seems to care either) could be described in one word - hagiography. But who are we to complain about this professional promoter, the one who acts like a side -show barker and hides under the moniker of a ‘literary lion’ given to him by one of his own clients?

3) As is often the case in contemporary Gujarati literary criticism, Trivedi’s reading of my article is literal and superficial. Worse yet, his criticism is personal. But he simply misses the point.

I have responded rather at great length and point by point to Natwarbhai’s misconceived and in my opinion ill advised pompous, grand eloquent and presumptuous paean to the NRI Gujarati writers. His view of the criticism of his article simplistic and personal criticism defies logic and undermines Natwarbhai’s own apologia. Readers are welcome to check out my bog on this subject and ascertain the truth at http://harishtrivedi.blogspot.com/2010/08/natwar-gandhi-on-gujarati-diaspora_34.html

5) If NRI writing is to emerge as authentic, the aspiring NRI writer would have to see through all the hoopla—“shindig”— surrounding the publication including favorable reviews and press notices. I wrote, “Most forewords and prefaces offered to NRI writers are misleading at best and disingenuous at worst.” Unfortunately, hypnotized by these false praises, “the writer is under an illusion that the literary doors have been opened to him and he goes back to his writing desk determined to do more writing. Encouraged in such a fashion, we have North American NRI writers who have dozens of books to their credit.


6) Contrary to prevailing NRI publishing practice, none of my book contains any introduction or preface by any of the worthies of Gujarati literature. Nor does it contain on back cover or elsewhere in the book any excerpts from numerous favorable reviews and laudatory comments.

Well, there could be couple of reasons for this absence of excerpts of reviews on the back covers of Natwarbhai’s books. It could be the fact that no one had read his book prior to publication. The absence of ‘preface’ or ‘forward’ in his books may be because of the money that some of our Gujarati ‘preface’ and ‘forward’ writers demand. Of course this absence could simply described as the gentle and very modest authors own choice. Nothing wrong about it.

It seems as if Natwarbhai is alluding to the publication of my play Exit-stance (I am going to shamelessly plug my play that has been recently published and perhaps cause some annoyance in the process…) If so, let me clarify – The reviews and comments, some of which appear in my book and the back cover came from folks who either had seen the play or read a copy of the manuscript of Exit-stance. The use of blurbs, quotes, prefaces, reviews and what have you is a tool for marketing of a publication. Use of such method is a matter of choice and it should not be used as an occasion for needless cheap shots as any one, particularly at one who has written, no matter how unflattering an expose of a recent publicity stunt in Mamba, India.

7) I also know that there is a novelty factor in my attempting to write poetry while still deeply engaged in a day job as Chief Financial Officer of managing the $10 billion budget of Washington, DC. Many commentators both here and at home have wondered how I maintain literary interests and write poetry in arcane Sanskrit meters after nearly fifty years of living in the United States. Or, for that matter, I write at all while maneuvering my ways through the treacherous waters of Washington politics and public finance. All this makes an interesting human story and good copy for newspapers.

What an example of modesty! More power to you Natwarbhai!

It seems as if any other Gujarati diaspora writers do not have to hold a full-time job in order to survive, as if every one of those Gujarati writers hold a high paying government job, as if every one is married to a rich banker and does not have to do any house work except to travel and write… Wouldn’t it be nice if it were so!

Natwarbhai, why don’t you ask some of these Diaspora Gujarati writers whom you are providing some unsolicited advise as to what they have to do to survive. You would be surprised by what you hear from them. Distributing newspapers each morning, starting around 3 am, cleaning up toilets in the high-rise offices, criss-crossing the neighborhoods to count heads for the Census Bureau, unemployed for over twenty years and living on a parsley pension and social security payments…. Their writing is no less useful, important, relevant and at times enlightening than some one who manages a $10 billion budget!

Only Natwarbhai holds a very important job as a Chief Financial Officer and manages s budget of $10 billion dollars, of places in Wahsington D.C. So no wonder the poor scribe in Mumbai finds there in a human-interest story. Sorry, for missing this human-interest angle!

I remember an incident that occurred not too long ago, when a reputed writer’s column had erroneously printed one less zero in the billion figure of Natwarbhai’s budget and Natwarbhai had taken this poor wretch of a writer to task for missing some zeros.

Here is an excerpt from a ‘thank you’ note that I had sent to Natwarbhai at that time –

‘You have thoughtfully pointed out 1) Possibly the obvious lapse in proof reading or 2) your concern that some readers may think that (the columnist’s) literary sense and sensibilities are far better than his monetary understanding... (Natwarbhai’s words) How well you have expressed this in your own discreet, diplomatic and subtle way!’

‘Reading your note I also learned something that I was not aware of - that because of some misprint or error in proofing some zeros were misplace in the billion figure and it may cause - hurt feelings of hundreds of thousands of District (of Columbia) citizens of which Mr. Barack Obama is one - who would read this particular column by ... Again your thoughtfulness and concerns about the feelings of your fellow citizens was evident there...’

‘While I do not know the print circulation of the newspaper that publishes ( ) column or the number of people who read Gujarati in the Washington DC area, I am sure the Divya Bhaskar editors and publishers would be happy and ecstatic to know that hundreds of thousands of Washington DC folks read ( ) column. Not only that but the DC citizens are also vigilant about any inaccuracy in news pertaining to their district. I am really thrilled and illuminated by this discovery!’ - From my note to Natwarbhai, July 14, 2010.


Frankly, I did not know that many people in the D.C area read this newspaper column with such a dedication and an eye for details and misprints – all written in Gujarati. But I digress let us move on….

8) Without trying to make any comparison, I would not be surprised if the notable novelist and playwright K. M. Munshi also aroused similar human interest in his day because in addition to his prolific literary output he also distinguished himself in law, politics and government.
Without trying to make any comparison – But you do so sir, you do…

9) I have no illusion of grandeur about what I write or what I do in Washington. Since I have not applied for sainthood, let me take this opportunity to plead guilty, in addition to hypocrisy, to many other deadly sins as well for the benefit of Trivedi and all others who have their watchful eyes on what I do and write.

Natwarbhai says, I have no illusion of grandeur about what I write or what I do in Washington. That may be so and we take his word for it. I know he is a very modest and unassuming person. No doubt or question about this on my part and I hope every one knows this fact…

My only gripe or complain is this - Natwarbhai could have spared all of us the trouble of reading his ‘rejoinder’, albeit a very late ‘rejoinder’ at that, (since my bog was posted in August of 2010) simply by pleading guilty, in addition to admitting being a hypocrite etc. in the last paragraph of his rather a long ‘rejoinder’.

As far as I know, no one had asked him to write a rejoinder and no one had asked him to plead guilty to any real or imaginary sin.

No one has any right to ask Natwarbhai or for that matter any one else to admit guilt for anything that they may have done. It is none of any one’s business. And as far as I am concerned no one should ask him to admit to anything, let him manage the $10 million budget and keep writing in arcane Sanskrit meters…