The UID Project

Dear Mr. Nilekani,

Firstly, let me congratulate you for stepping back from the corporate world and consenting to take upon yourself the onerous task of accounting for every single one of our 1.3 Billion and growing population. As a 'giving back' step to society, it is very commendable and it also helps that you've picked what is definitely an area of expertise to give back in. Hopefully you can bring all of your expertise and know-how gained in the corporate world and see this project to completion successfully.

I remember when the UID project was announced and you were given special cabinet rank to execute it. I remember your interview over phone with Shereen Bahn on CNBC, not one on my regular-channels list admittedly. After that of course the project has been going on, as always happens with projects of this size and magnitude, at its own pace and time. And cost. So why am I suddenly reminded about this now?

The reason is because today, I got Uniquely IDed. A census officer came over to our place today as part of the National 2010 census, and also to collect details for the UID. And the whole experience left me with a lot of headaches about the management of the project, which I'm sure have crossed your mind as well and you are looking to solve. Still, as a concerned citizen, just my two penny worth of thoughts in what will finally give the Social Security number equivalent to all of us in this country.

Firstly, there are three of us living in a shared apartment - an undeniable feature of almost every house in a radius of 5kms from where I live. I'm sure the same is the case with houses in Bangalore, Chennai, Mumbai and every other city in this country. Most of us are temporary residents there with permanent addresses all given differently. In such a situation, is there going to be an effort to cross-reference people scattered over the country to the actual households they belong to? By permanent address or something would be the way to go I'd think?

The second issue is with the language. The officer who came around took down our names in the regional language. I'm sure there is going to be a lot of Lost in Translation occurring when these names are transliterated back into English for the UID. And I don't want any issues when the spelling on my UID does not match the spelling on my passport because someone made a typo at the data entry point.

Also I would apparently receive my UID from the local Corporation, 6 months down the line. What if I'm not in this Corporation 6 months down the line? And have surrendered my local phone number? It is the only means of contact that the Census officer has for all three of us in this house, since he took my name as 'head of the family' - another concept which cannot apply to shared residences like ours. Anyway yes. I'm now tied down to this city's Corporation for the Identity Proof which is supposedly trans-national and should be provided to ALL citizens of this country.

Those are just some of the issues that I, solely from my point of view, thought about. Expanding my line of thought to the logistics and data collection of the exercise throws up a lot more questions. For example, will the Database be able to cross-reference me and my father as belonging to the same family, though our census happened in different cities? How would it do this, considering the permanent address cannot be a unique key on which databases can be related. The census officer mentioned that he'd come around 5 times to a house. Even allowing that all visits are on weekends, that's about 5 visits over a month. It's quite likely that families are out on month-long vacations. Especially in the summer. Do they just get missed then?

I'm sure there are some issues among these which have been dismissed as inevitable. But there are some points where one wonders, can this not be done better. For example, there's already a huge database of unique Identifications in the form of the PAN card, especially among the salaried class. That's about 250 Million people that have been covered already, and there must be a way to sync that up with the census exercise. For the migrant issue, or the language issue, there's only so much care that can be taking I guess. But the point is, the painstaking and accurate part of the work has to come at this first point of data collection. And I somehow feel there should be a better way to structure this to avoid inaccuracies or double counts.

I guess that's why you're heading the project then, and not me. Because given enough manpower, I'm sure any educated Indian can get the rest of the process after the data collection right. It's to figure out how to get that part right, while ensuring it's not a mammoth time and cost exercise, that your experience comes in I guess. Well, I sure hope you can pull it off.

Regards.

Karthik Call Waiting

The multiplex-boom in India, with their over-cushioned seats, over-priced popcorn and over-stretched parking lots have led to a genre of made-for-multiplex movies. Movies coming from a distinctly setting, with characters that most people watching the movie recognize immediately as themselves, their cubicle-mate, their next-door neighbour... it's brought Hindi cinema a lot closer to its audience, at least the urban audience. However, it fails to take into account that this audience is also heavily into American/English pop-culture and is not going to appreciate one's recycling of old stories. KCK falls into that category.

A first heads-up for those who haven't watched the movie and haven't read up a synopsis of it anywhere - it's not a sugar-laden love story. Even if that's the impression you got watching Deepika Padukone making the collective male populace go 'Uffff, teri ada' on any of the innumerable music channels. If the friend next to you turns and says 'You didn't tell me you were bringing me to a horror movie', shrug and smile. For those who have read the synopsis and have a vague clue what it is about, it's not a thriller either. It's just confused. Like the protagonist himself.

I will not do a brief synopsis of the movie or anything because it's probably present in a million places. Farhan Akthar is Karthik, doing a role which you immediately think Irrfan Khan with his sleepy Vodafone ad voice would be much better at. Deepika Padukone is hot, and trying her best to justify her presence in the movie. There's a psychiatrist who takes 'stating the obvious' to levels never seen before. And there's a Japanese-made telephone which is quite eerie and is obviously the technological predecessor of later Japanese techno-horrors as seen in The Ring.

Karthik has issues in life (he's going to a psychiatrist, duh). The issues stem from childhood scarring, are made worse by a boss who doesn't have a single polite bone on his body, and the fact that the hottest girl in the office sees right through/over/above him. The last part he can have no complaints about I think, he's lucky there even is a hot girl in his office. But personal feelings aside, that's his life. And the psychiatrist is just no bloody help. Until... drumroll. Or rather, ring tone. It's a voice claiming to be Karthik and he rights everything in Karthik's (the non-phone one) life, within 30 first-half minutes. At this point, you're already thinking 'Ohh, Fight Club. Or Beautiful Mind'.

Obviously, he can't tell people about his phone friend without them calling him Cuckoo. Especially his girlfriend, who has apparently been through too many bad relationships and a cuckoo boyfriend is really the last thing she needs. Confusing, this lassie. She mocks him for being a 'safe guy who would never misbehave with a girl', then she says 'you won't be like all them other guys right?'. Make up your mind darling, do you want safe or sorry? A straight lift of a line from the sitcom Two and a Half Men about how girls:men::dogs:cars doesn't help clarify matters any. So anyway, the lassie says he better get help or else. And eerie phone Karthik simply doesn't like that. So everything he built in the 30-minute first half, he destroys in 30 seconds of the second half.

You'd think all the thoughts in your head about 'already seen this story, already heard this line, already know the ending'would stop at those. But the music director feels the need to make his presence felt as well, and a jarring background score to all of the Karthiks' encounter. Heavily 'inspired' by Clint Mansell, you wonder if that's the best mood you want to set for a poor guy having mental issues. Though again, 'Uff teri ada' is completely worth it all. As a visual experience.

Karthik calling Karthik takes two good 90-minute films and mixes them into a hodgepodge 120-minute one. It could either have been the story of a shy, introverted guy slowly overcoming his fears and all that with an imaginary friend type person. Imaginary friends are ok, they're mostly cute, they're always by the protagonist and they usually disappear when the job's done. Or it could have been the story of a tortured, scarred kid whose scars eventually affect him enough when he grows up to start taking apart his life. The one good thing probably was the conscious effort to leave no loose ends, as the 'summary' scene shows how Karthik actually knew everything that he wasn't supposed to know. Fair play there, well worked, at least they didn't make it descend into the realms of the supernatural. If only that effort had been put into a more organized screenplay.

Keeping with the movie's own theme, subconsciously you want to like KCK, appreciate it, applaud it. But consciously, it just comes across as one of those things for which you say 'Well tried. Maybe next time.'

Parallel Universe

Credits: Prabhav 'N2' Kashyap, who has clearly put a lot of thought into this, and even more clearly, feels quite strongly about it.

After 5 years at the Indian Institute of Technology-Madras, and two years before it preparing for the JEE, one has to enter the realm of what if and explore how the world would have turned out differently if certain key decisions had been taken differently at key junctures in one's life. The exploration of this parallel universe is necessitated even more by the realization that the 7 years past have done nothing to improve the quality of the 70 years which will follow, nor of the 7 itself which have passed by. Imagine all the Jews turning to Moses and going 'Dude, what promised land?'. Then multiply it a thousand times, throw in the feeling of United doing this to me, add the feeling of the 100s of Millions in our poor country who went and followed hockey just because Priyanka Chopra told them to, and you're still not close to what I'm feeling right now.

Speaking of, and as an aside, anyone notice the distinct correlation between good hockey teams and good football teams in this world cup? They guys who get regularly thrashed are us, Pakistan, South Africa, Canada and New Zealand. Everyone else in this World Cup have had a football team which has reached at least a quarterfinals of the corresponding World Cup in some edition. Maybe not Australia, but those buggers play anything anyway. I mean, our poor boys simply do not have the concept of an off-the-ball run. Or a 'tactical change'. The whole team is built around one trick, and it's called Sandeep Singh. But, we beat Pakistan, and in this country that's all that counts. This is way more blog space to devote to hockey than is required anyway.

On the other hand, imagine if us IITians had foregone that route and gone and done something like Economics at a reputed humanities college. Stephen's was the example used by the proposer of the theory, and Stephens it shall be, that we go with. That would have immediately saved the pre-college 2 years of JEE preparation, and one would have been more in tune with such important things in life as the best movie of the year or the coziest Coffee Day to go to with a girlfriend. In fact, one would have had a girlfriend to make all this happen. Even if not, there is no way three years in Stephen's can pass by barren unless you're a douche of the nth order with as much natural charm as a flea in the back pocket of Quasimodo. And even if you were that character, by the sheer law of averages, you have at least visually encountered more members of the female species than your current life path which takes you from a guy-infested school to guy-infested JEE class to IIT (which needs no adjectives) to similarly-guy-infested engineering jobs where you meet people who already know all your classmates from each of the above three institutions. Cos we're like that, us engineering types.

Just to show this is not a sexually-driven rant, I shall further back up my theory with other empirical and statistical evidence. Such an economics course would have ended in 3 years, making one pass out at a good enough time in history where Lehmann has still not gone "What the" and the rest of the world has still not gone "What the f*******k". Two more years of cash-earning, work-experience-adding, still-maintaining-contacts-from-Stephen's life right there. And the rest of the chaps in your life will not be all talking the same language of client calls, chargeable hours, cost efficiencies and "onsite" visits. Then of course, the whole world would have gone belly up, but at least you had two years to work towards it. And got some along the way.

By this point in one's career, one's educational pedigree has mostly been ignored anyway, so it doesn't matter where you passed out from as a fresh, eager, young graduate, full of hope and excitement about the world ahead and waiting to make one's own mark in it. 2 years down, there remains nothing but a shell of all this, so how does it matter what existed within that shell two years before. We're at one place now, we would've been at the same place two years earlier, and probably with the whole world in general a bit more cheerful too. Spreading the joy and the likes.

MLIA. A lot more sensible acronym than over-hyped crap like MNIK, with a 45 year-old trying to play the sequel to Taare Zameen Par. MLIA, which I didn't know either, apparently stands for My Life Is Average. How true. Sudden strong moment of empathy with Kevin Spacey from American Beauty. It was like Achilles said, or rather asked. About history remembering him after the Trojan War. But I think it's more like how good friend Gilmour said - Would you exchange, a walk on part in the war, for the lead role in a cage.

For what we do in life, echoes in eternity.

F.Art

Have I already put this one up before? Just thought the blog could do with a revival. So. Revive, oh blog!

Kevin was distraught. The culmination of all his years as a student of Fine Arts was this one piece. It combined the latest in contemporary art with the incredible world of science. It was a clash of colour and monochrome, of order and entropy, of geometry and art, of science and religion. It was a representation of the miniature world of incomprehensible particles found within an atom. And yet his professor had been completely dismissive about it. He called it ‘The Blow-Up’. His professor had called it a blow-off.

And so it happened that he was standing on the sidewalk next to his professor’s office, with his heart, soul, morale – everything except his canvas – torn to shreds. It was Saturday evening, and quite a few people had already spent the better part of the day in the bar. One such straggler walked up to Kevin. He was pretty unstable, and had yet another unfinished beer in his hand. He peered curiously, screwing his eyes up and bending forward – first at the painting, then at Kevin, and back at the painting. Kevin opened his mouth to tell him to buzz off, but the drunk beat him to it. Not to say anything though. In one convulsive twitch of his body and one retching motion, the man vomited his lunch right on to the center of The Blow-Up. After a couple of more moments doubled up, he wiped his mouth, straightened, smiled at Kevin and walked away.

Kevin stared at his canvass in horror. His mind went numb as he evaluated the artistic homicide that had just taken place. All of his quarks, mesons and neutrinos were now mixed with half-digested spaghetti and unidentifiable gravy. His thoughts were simply unable to process anything. It was a miracle that he thought he heard something at all, through the otherwise-deafening silence that filled his head. There was that voice again, going, “… that shows innovation”.

He spun around. It was his professor, on his way home. As Kevin stared back in reply, his professor continued, “Now it looks more natural, the colour scheme. Nature doesn’t operate in Technicolor you know. And the uneven texture – lovely touch.” He patted Kevin lightly on the back, “I always knew you had it in you. You just had to get it out, somehow.”

Well, I didn’t get it out, but someone else sure did, thought Kevin. “Thank You Sir”, he mumbled, still dazed by the conflicting emotions swirling through his mind, to the disappearing back of his professor.

As they say, Beauty lies in the eyes of the Beer Holder. Or rather, stomachs.

Kevin renamed his painting “The Throw-Up”.