Maximum Inferno

Fifteen years from now the day before your ward sits for his history exams, you would see him cramming a totally new syllabus. In the past few months since I last posted a blog, a lot seems to have happened. US cruising towards a recession, the rise of a new ethnic leader, the volte face of the mercurial Pakistan – its leader taking a manipulated steps to establish a democracy, the return of prodigal sons and daughters, a cruel assassination, the Machiavellian machinations to use the same to gain political mileage, the farce of an investigation, and finally another melodrama called an election and the repercussions to follow and the world got to see the “shapely” prophet again in Denmark.

But in the midst of all this much was being lost in the melting pot called India. It all started by an innocuous appeal by a certain Raj Thackeray, a Yuvrajesque character scrambling for anything for an identity, that the state of Mumbai was getting perilous by the day by the systematic influx of North Indians. The idiosyncrasies of North Indians were being too much to bear for sons of the Marathi soil who saw their culture threatened. The statement was nothing to be contested. Ask the average commuter on a VT bound train from Navi Mumbai and he would give them a much more graphic depiction. Till around 3 years ago, a commuter from Belapur could get into such a train catering to the office rush and take his time to decide which of the window seats to chose. The situation at present is that he takes a train bound to the opposite direction which reaches the terminal and then starts its VT bound journey after half an hour. But the reaction was much more inflammatory. The identity starved MNS party came down heavily on cab drivers, vendors notwithstanding the fact that every June almost 2500 MBAs and engineers from various illustrious institutions make Mumbai their home in search of career opportunities. Contrarian to what Suketu Mehta says in his iconic novel Maximum City, the trip to Mumbai is always a one way trip. The instigation is not very difficult to find as well. Entertainment starved MNS cadres have swapped endless channels only to be preposterously met with reality shows and talent hunts where each participant has made endless appeals to their domicile states to keep on showering votes on them. So while the East and the North East took personal loans for their sms bills for Prashant Tamang, Punjab took up the cudgel for the Star TV show. Paranoid and scavenging for identity, the nationwide consensus was that this was the best bet.
The ramifications of the same were deliberate or uncalled for but came from all sort of quarters – starting from the Delhi deputy governor criticizing North Indians for flaunting their skills at breaking law, Lalu daring the Maharashtra government on carrying a Chat Puja in Mumbai (this would be an interesting budget season this year, with heaps of trains for North India and compensatory tax sops for corporates in the West but that again is not in the purview of this!), to the Rajasthan and Bengal government feud on the fate of Marwaris in Kolkata.

The staunchest of the endorsements however has come from a different quarter, who no one seems to have noticed. A quarter that seems to be the scepter carrier of a totally different kind but who always finds itself in the quagmire because of its lack of administrative rationality, weird decision making and its more than askew eye for money. An institution that we call BCCI, the wash basin of all political and economic frustrations. Come to think of it, when was the last time we saw frenetic jingoism on a cricket field. In my sense if we discount the monkey act on Mr. Symonds, the last time we saw Indians charged up on sport was during the Pakistan trip at the Kolkata test match where shamefully the last few overs were bowled in front of a vacant stadium. BCCI trying to get the eyeball of the business fraternity in India has created that provincial demarcation pretty well and in the garb of sport we have successfully created that division where we can safely say in a Delhi vs Mumbai match that we have been stepped over by North Indians. The seed has been sown to create a city based jingoism so much so that cosmopolitan offices have been divided now on the basis of my and your team. Clubs, entertainment centers, pubs would now on have different sections where when Ganguly gets bowled by Irfan, a “patriotic” Bengali is supposed to throw his beer mug at a Sardar. For 44 days we have successfully created a tension amidst cordial friends in a bid to emulate a successful EPL model. What the people have forgotten is that in Britain the demarcation of cities is not on the basis of linguistic or religious lines. Hence although we may have a quality sport with top class sportsmen we have stirred some very sensitive and animal instincts in the common man. The frustration of the Mumbaikar will come out in his native language which I won’t be able to share and neither would I want to if Gayle, Ponting and Dada are going great guns. Similarly the software engineer on a deputation in Bangalore from his base location at Hyderabad could easily get mugged up for his visible scorn to a geriatric Bangalore team.

Now let’s look at an economic point of view. Mr. Dhoni gets Rs. 6 crores for his association with the Chennai team. Does that mean that Rs. 2 crores goes to the Income Tax authorities? Almost USD 750 million has been spent by the franchisee owners on gaining ownership of the teams for a period of 3 – 5 years. Does that mean that this will qualify at corporate tax? Who would be the taxable entity here? What will be the scenario when the players are traded from next year? And in the midst of all the amounts being just wished away can the average commuter clammer again to Mr. FM? Will the tax rates come down this year Sir?

(Salmonella Typhae seems to have taken its toll. This blog was meant to be a bit big but have to end it here)