Rest Easy

The calendar's fourth quarter is notable for its disproportionate share of festivities; occasions when circumspect purse strings loosen, accumulating significant spends that greatly aid the cause of private domestic consumption! This is an established phenomenon in the West, building to a Christmas peak, with accepted socio-cultural-economic benefits. Not merely due to an Anglophile tilt, but India too has had Q4 turn into a Consumer Marketing delight lately, albeit with twin summits on either end. Again, of all shopping destinations, if there be one where such a dance of disposable incomes and Westernized lifestyles should be most conspicuous, Millennium City Gurgaon must possess strongest credentials!

Someone stepping into SRS Value Bazaar at Sohna Road, however, will likely make a strong case for the reverse. Rewind back a month and paucity of options in the neighbourhood, plus burgeoning household earnings, meant that grocery shopping at this establishment was a lecher's delight (of the too-close-for-comfort kind often observed in your average DTC bus). Crowded to the core with sundry shoppers and ill-trained staff, one was forced to jostle through narrow aisles and tightly packed shelves, all barely a moment away from disintegration into total chaos, to get to check-out lanes that stretched till eternity. Yet, come last week of Dec and far from an upswing in the footfall frenzy, you may well discern a pall of gloom, the droopy shoulders of salespeople a telltale of dropping revenue.

So what has changed? Almost the entire action in town seems to have moved to a new postal address: Easy Day, opened a block away. In fact, with Wal-Mart pedigree in its wings, this shop appears to have drawn an expanded clientele (with very obvious results on Sohna Road traffic, any case prone to highly frustrating jams). This shopper upsurge may partly be driven by a novelty factor, or high voltage entry-strategy advertising, but there is a suggestion of more. My hypothesis is that the underlying promise in Wal-Mart’s discounter positioning (in our notoriously price-sensitive market), and its comprehensive one-stop-shop concept. has helped pull crowds. In point of fact one must note too that discounts currently offered are minimal and shopping experience (janata express, low staff etiquette, serpentine queues et al) not significantly different from SRS. Yet, for now, Gurgaon's yuppie and not-so- population is voting through their feet (and wallets) there!

The likes of Easy Day may have a larger destiny to fulfill though. In the last few posts we have agonized over a lasting fix for India's Food Security. Yet, despite an immediate inflation crisis and very obvious medium-long term supply inadequacy, our current governmental response is random at best (unless of course one believes conspiracy theorists that see a deliberate, nefarious design in repeated policy and administration failures). In any case, the Government's assertions of control are rendered meaningless by WPI (and more so, retail inflation) figures with sorry regularity. Thus, in mourning what ails Indian Agriculture, it is time to shift focus away from reactive tweaks that is the wont of democratic governments, or hope for one-size-fit-all solutions. Instead, we need to tackle the supply chain in bite-size-chunks. The most conspicuous opportunity seems in storage and distribution: we waste a shameful 20% (likely more) of the food we produce, an abysmal situation by any account (Animal Farm). Granted that our sarkari agencies are not up to the ask of delivering badly-needed supply chain upgrades, the logical option for investment and knowhow (say, cold storage infrastructure) is FDI in retail. Hence the pitch for Easy Day and its kin – the benefits delivered via their backward integration efforts.

This is not an easy cat to bell. We cannot wish away the fears, imagined or otherwise, of thousands of mom-&-pop kirana stores getting overrun. On the contrary, we ought to take a leaf from China’s book on extracting a pound of flesh when framing policies. Let organized retail serve a purpose, with policymakers, producers and customers, all aligned to ensure the best deal. And in time, hopefully, technology shall deliver us irrigation and yield increases; productivity improvements that cannot fructify in one easy day.

Dal is Meat (rhyme Small is Big)

My idea of a delectable meal often subsumes a meat-rich diet. This has worked well for the foodie in me, providing latitude for wide (some would say wild) experimentation in cuisine and ingredients over the years. Indeed, it would be difficult to think of occasions in the past that would have found me shy of conspicuous consumption of the non-vegetarian kind. It is equally easy to remember my preaching from the pulpit to those missing out on similar indulgences.

Alas what use is a tale without a twist, and mine came up against one via marriage when my six-seventh dedicated carnivorous pursuit met its match. (Incidentally the existing Tuesday exception was likely on account of historical habit more than purely religious reasons.) To cut a long story short, one could be pardoned to think my last post (Dal, Not Boring was my first on food; built around an eminently vegetarian delicacy) to be an ‘inspired’ choice! Yet, apart extenuating domestic circumstances (an outvoted minority status), my alibi is a mehengayi-dayan discussion pending from that post. Indeed, not only is the virus of inflation agnostic to dietary preference, but its acute focus on foods hurts dal as much as chicken, making a complete mockery of the Great (veg-non veg) Divide.

With this backdrop, let me hark back to the RBI Q2 Monetary Policy document mentioned earlier. The central bank's pointed concerns about food inflation expressed therein are a good starting point to appreciate the worrisome situation (in case you missed your grocery bills these last few months). Terming it “structural”, the Review referred specifically to prices of protein based foods (despite policy tweaks and good monsoons, inflation in this segment "remained persistently elevated" mid 20s; six months ago it was a whopping 34%). What officialspeak did not make explicit was the fact that the uptrend is over a year old – meaning this inflation is working off an already high denominator. The resultant compounding effect on end consumer wallets is, naturally, stark.

It is not difficult to discern the roots of "structural demand-supply mismatches” the RBI laments, or to build a case for future worsening. Demand is up, driven by burgeoning population and changing consumption patterns (economic progress whets appetite for more nutritious food). Neither of these is likely to recede - in fact one can well expect significant upside in each. At the same time, we are faced with what the RBI calls "inadequate supply response" meaning there is little relief on the other side of the economic equation. Specific to dal, none of the three global producers (US, Oz, Burma) display any urgency to increase areas under pulses cultivation. (We could, of course, collectively root for a dietary switch towards meat - but that puts at stake much more than my personal domestic discord!)

As a conundrum, it is a desperate one - what else could be more compelling for a nation languishing at # 67 in 85 countries on the Global Hunger Index. Unfortunately the much required sense of urgency seems thus far missing from all stakeholders - policymakers, producers, consumers et al (and certainly in our TRP-happy mainstream media, preening with self-proclaimed righteousness, but content to sell the day's news). The logical solution would be for Indian agriculture to step up, even if its immediate ability to do so remains fairly suspect. Else declared national goals like chasing Security Council seats are entirely meaningless.

Dal, Not Boring

Vir Sanghvi's Rude Food is part of my reading staple most weekends. To get to it is not always a cakewalk though: one has to negotiate other HT Brunch features that are often hopelessly inane. Of course, Shri Sanghvi himself, his broad repertoire on his sleeve, is capable of giving any self-respecting foodie more than enough cud to chew. Frequently, his fare is extravagantly esoteric in choice of subject and idiom, more daunting than delectable for the average seasoned traveler. Yet, when confining himself to playing patron vs patronizing, his entrée does justice to his vaunted gourmand credentials - even the pungency of his strong opinions tickles the buds and makes for mild intellectual exercise appropriate for Sunday mornings. In either case, the studiedly exclusivist stance is unmistakable.

This week though, Rude Food was positively brilliant. It swung the spotlight on humble, ubiquitous Dal, justly extolling its virtues as the quintessential Indian dish. As Singhvi points out, though content to play second fiddle to other offerings, the Dal does not suffer from lack in variety. All forms of Indian cuisine profess a version and each civilization coming into contact with it has added to options. At one level it is in fact quite interesting how hard put you would be to find Dal oriented eateries when you think how every household carries its individual specimen; and even the occasional cook's experiments have enriched its pantheon. (My mother for instance, not much given to adventurism in the kitchen, still cooks a memorable Dal, and so one would suspect for assorted mothers, spouses and chefs of varying culinary expertise across the Nation!)

However, there is one facet that Shri Singhvi barely scratches the surface on - owing perhaps to his proclivity for intellectual snobbery, or simply his relative munificence. This is the continued spiral of rising Dal prices and its clearly deleterious consequences on household budgets (one speaks from personal experience of course). In fact, this has worried no less than the RBI, going by the commentary in its Q2 FY11 Monetary Policy Review. Well merited as it may be, it is too early in the weekend to attempt this fuller discussion tonight! Let me therefore leave that for later – perhaps tomorrow, after being fortified with my ritual Sat khichdi lunch :)

Say Cheese!

There's something to be said for junior siblings who harbour grand-motherly ambitions: not only are their intentions unfailingly above board, but they often provide you with eminently sensible advice. My younger sister, forever trying to overtake the few years that separated our births (and not merely due to her head-start in child-rearing experience), gave me one such invaluable tip some seasons ago. In sum and substance her insight was to forsake still photography in favour of video when trying to capture assorted intimate moments with my new-born.

The logic, as most parents shall easily empathize, is simply this: perfect as the cherub may be, one can just not ever make them pose, camera at the ready, in the fashion you want to catch; or be able to whip up your camera in time to catch the pose they already have. Consider too, how consumed one is by an overarching desire to store those magical moments for posterity and future viewing pleasure. As such, among general early parenting tutorials, this visual arts lesson is worth its weight in gold. (There is a school of thought that directly ascribes Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle to be an offshoot of this inability for subject and equipment to meet!) The handycam, video-enabled digicam, or (increasingly) the mobilephone camera in video mode, therefore, are God’s gift to parentkind. You click, point and whirr - you're away!

But whoa – you still have to lug the equipment along; test your hand-eye coordination; and of course keep one hand otherwise engaged, and not in petting one’s progeny or restraining him in mischief! Last month, however, going through some internal communication on digital trends and practices, my attention got drawn to a brand new product. Looxcie, as this device is called, is camera meets your Bluetooth handsfree audio earset. Sitting on your ear, Looxcie’s camera records all you see, all the time - and if you figure out something worth capture (or sharing online in our post-FB quasi-voyeuristic times) you click a button – to save, edit or instantly share the immediate 30 sec clip to your favourite social networking site. Now this may sound premature, but my sense is that the Looxcie (as a product class) represents a new level in the evolutionary relationship between man and technology insofar as it further reduces disruption to your daily life and habit – and perhaps a step closer to the body itself becoming our computing interface.

There is a catch, of course – and it is not the device’s five hour storage limit! As our real and virtual worlds collide, the Looxcie as an accessory for oneself is sure to find many takers. Yet, not all of us may be equally comfortable playing Beatrice to its Dante - lest Divine Tragedies result ;-)

Baal Ki Khaal

This one is dedicated to two childhood friends, each with canine companions that went by the name Snowy. Both wore crowns of flipped up tufts of hair that settled into a more orderly mop by the time it reached the back of their heads (though one believed he took it after Shashi Kapoor!). Both wore their principles on their sleeves, embodying all thought good in boyhood – much the kind that mothers made examples of. And both were only too willing, in their inimitably individual ways, to battle lengthening odds in a world where childhood innocence was rapidly fading away.

The first of the duo now sports a mildly sparser mane, perhaps in deference to ravages of time. Even as his contemporaries get cynical with age, his spunk has not dimmed much: he remains almost as idealistic to a fault. Peddling counsel in a premier brainwasher outfit (aka Strategy Consulting), his worldly ambitions revolve around Pedder Road, desiring future lodgings in its vicinity. Meanwhile, he plays proud papa to a precociously gifted child. On meeting old partners in crime he debates residential choices in modest Mumbai vs garish Gurgaon (purely in sq ft terms), but mostly signs off ruing lost opportunities to ride the real estate boom at either. The script alas has not altered much in a few price correction cycles. Yet, the world would be so much a better place if only a fraction of his fantastic ideas were to change address from his first class brain to take up abode in the real world without. My best for you, Mr M; and hope that, some day, the letter does not stand for Muddle too.

The other hero, equally principled but more action-prone, has the privilege of staying unsullied by tests of time only accorded to larger-than-life fictional characters. He occasionally comes to mind when trying to hook my 14 month old to Cartoon Network for a few moments of domestic calm (and yes, we shall rue this TV pitch later). Meet Tintin, who last week made it to Indian mainstream media with news that his canon is to be translated into Hindi. For sake of the hordes of new friends nee fans he shall inevitably add in the new Indian avatar (he already does Bengali), one hopes Tintin stays Tintin, even as his support cast and the books adopt new name tags. This is important: this space has argued against avoidable tinkering with Enid Blyton's legacy earlier. Equally, word-play is intrinsic to Tintin reading pleasure: its characters indulge in malapropism, spoonerism, cuss-words-that-aren't, et al (google them if need) hence greater danger of being lost in translation.

Fortunately, two differences can be discerned upfront. Firstly, the Famous Five body of work existed and was accessible to the young English reader; and changes focused on style than substance, presentation tweaks presumably due to audience inability to appreciate the books' context. Tintin in Hindi, on the other hand, explores new readership vistas. Second, the English versions, where my friendship with the evil-fighting Belgian reporter took roots, too were brilliant adaptations from original French. The Tintin team has been there, done that (Hindi is translation # 58, with over 200 million endorsing sales). Thus, my sense is largely unaltered plots, even as some props take into account Indian sensibilities. Hence Snowy, originally Milou, becomes Natkhat and Thomson and Thompson aka Dupont et Dupond turn Santu-Bantu without much ado (unless you believe that Bianca became Mallika Castafiore for Sherawat reasons - her crooning 'abhi to main jawan hoon' perhaps for our other protagonist, the adorable Mr M, should easily settle that one)!

And what better way to test the hypothesis than check for Captain Archibald Haddock's colourful curses - 'dus hazaar tadtadate toofan' (ten thousand thundering typhoons) is easy; 'karodo karod kasmasate kaale kacchuve' (millions-and-millions-of squirming-black-turtles, replacing the iconic billions-of-bilious-blue-blistering-barnacles) sounds a wee bit of compromise. There may be more (difficult to replicate 'Thomson with a P like in psychology' in Santu-Bantu milieu) but intent remains ideal and the touchstone (one learns from you sometimes, Mr M) of my vote today. Thumbs up for the Tintin effort therefore; and no elitist position, caught up in (what Tintin's catchphrase 'Great Snakes' has changed to) 'baal ki khaal'!

CIRcle of Life

Generally speaking, from the universe of my acquaintances in the thirty-some years on the planet, the set from School would be in summary the oldest and most valued of relationships. To boot, a majority of this group would rate higher than average in terms of phrenic acumen as well as worldly success. Hence, when no less than three such friends seek me out in the space of a few weeks with queries on financial products, all centred around the theme of credit history, something does seem amiss in the State of Denmark!

Proceeding under the assumption that a general outbreak of penury has not gripped the Class of 1991 (and the financial transactions intended certainly pointed in the opposite direction!) the spate of enquiries was highly suggestive. My direct hypothesis was our collective lack of appreciation for Credit Bureaus and their rapidly expanding sway in India's financial system. (Incidentally, using the plural is accurate, though only Credit Information Bureau India Ltd or CIBIL is completely operational; Experian shall be the second Bureau and more are in the pipeline). A quick primer therefore seems in order.

Simply put, a Credit Information Company or Credit Bureau is a repository of credit histories of individuals and companies. It is premised on the principle of pooled information - all member banks and FIs share credit line and payment data with it - intended to facilitate better credit decisions for lenders as much as appropriate terms for borrowers. Bureau data is formatted into a Credit Information Report or CIR which can be accessed by member institutions and the concerned consumer or commercial entity. It is this CIR that is increasingly being leveraged to assess creditworthiness in India as we speak - a decades long practice in the developed world.

Therein of course lies the rub. The widespread usage of CIR is a relatively recent development and customer awareness has been potentially inadequate. Combined, this has meant low motivation to keep Bureau data entirely accurate and updated, leading to a good chunk of borrowers being not-so-pleasantly surprised by their CIR's contents (and hence those calls to folks like me). Bureaus are mostly not to blame though - apart from their impeccable credentials (CIBIL for instance was cofounded by SBI and HDFC with SME's D&B and TransUnion), inaccuracy of information strikes at their very raison d'etre. Similar vested interest may have been presumed for Banks/ FIs but unfortunately in CIBIL's nascent days a good chunk of members were curiously over-protective of their databases, loath to share vital information with the others. (That this futile stance changed is in significant measure due to the 2008 Crisis, when the industry woke up to dangers of one-upmanship!) There may have been infrastructure issues in data capture and storage in the past too, especially with PSU players. And last but not least, consumers may have been less than responsible with closure of seemingly trivial issues, including occcasional wilful default, all leading up to a messed up CIR.

As things stand, the CIR is now a part of life (a common misconception is that only delinquent accounts get reported to Bureaus - not so, they carry all records). In fact we should consider it a near certainty that CIR usage shall transcend beyond lending decisions to Utilities and other necessities of life. It is also obvious that information capture and permanence will be in a different league post Aadhar implementation. It is indeed not impossible to envision the CIR become an input for employment decisions (say, in BFSI or for company directorship etc), perhaps even indirectly impinge on social contracts (public office for instance) going forward.

Meanwhile, for those with current or future borrowing needs (almost everyone in modern India's consumerist paradigm) and at all concerned with credit availability and terms (pricing is obvious; equally credit delayed may be credit too late - ask folks foregoing cash discounts when buying that new house), an impeccable credit history is highly desired. Also, even as you get disciplined in future payments, check your current CIR from CIBIL at www.cibil.com/accesscredit.htm as first step (errors if any will have to be corrected via your Bank/ FI that has reported them so write to it for rectification). The time to act is now!

Wheels of Fortune

Having tread the more familiar, beaten end of the path last week, ambition drives me to talk glitzy and stratospheric today. My motivation in changing gear from the Bicycle to a Bugatti is not entirely random though. It comes from realization, grudging as much as bizarre, that the Veyron 16.4 Grand Sport that drastically redefined the automobile pricing summit in India, is not merely about libertine luxury but actually a fulfillment of some much humbler prayers!

First things first: it is now three weeks that the Volkswagen (literally, Peoples' Car) family launched the Veyron from its Bugatti stables to add to the options for India's Super-rich. The crown of the nation's most expensive motorcar offering is not quotidian: the Veyron sports a daunting tag, at INR 16Cr onwards a little under 3X its nearest competitor! Yet, my middle-class, nitpicking mind did not miss the claim by its aptly named sole agent, Exclusive Motors, that the gap between Veyron and #2 was much larger. Perhaps they missed the launch of INR 6Cr Merc S-Guard in Feb (for some reason a day after my birthday, if only!); maybe they decided cars not retailed by them did not qualify. Nevertheless the tab is impressive (not to forget an unkind, if pithy, suggestion to rebadge it Veyron 18 next year unless inflation bucks its double digit trend). Equally, for those still stuck to more commoditized mindsets, it is most instructive to note Bugatti's annual sales plan, all of a challenging 60-80 units worldwide, including likely 3-4 Indians globally.

Ignorance and presumed readership interest dictate me to gloss over the car's intricate details (noteworthy stress in launch press releases any how was on components of 'special materials - titanium, magnesium etc' handcrafted at Bugatti's French HQ, perhaps playing to the khadi brigade; or 'Puccini sound system with digital signal processor' variety of abstruse). Certainly, it should be safe to assume the Veyron would be a hedonistic delight, with top-notch safety features and on-tap-performance (unlike me, some drivers are seemingly able to discern every tenth of a second in a 0-100 kmph dash, the car in question clocking a 2.7). Above all, its modest volume target and the excessive hype around price are highly suggestive - what may draw prospective buyers is badge value and exclusivity rather than trivia like its pacy 407 kmph, or worry for the 10% speed compromise with the roof off.

The performance numbers do beg an obvious question: where-on will the Veyron get a chance to perform thus for its privileged owner? Of course, one is not unfamiliar with the analogy of a powerful sound machine providing decidedly superior auditory experience at lower volumes too. The appropriate situation here, however, is of the equipment being mostly forced on mute (disbelievers may try DLF Cyber City early morning, or all evening, to truly appreciate the engine's idle hum). And therein lies Reason #1 to have prayed for the Veyron's ilk: folks who buy this car would be from the ranks of the high-and-mighty, eminently better placed to motivate our civic authorities to build roads instead of potholed dirt tracks (chalo Sohna Road, rather, most of Gurgaon, if you find the depiction pessimistic). Their frustration matters, unlike ours, hence my hope!

Unfortunately the road-building fantasy may come up short against the brutal realities of our obdurate bureaucracy. Regardless, another Veyron attribute makes an even bigger, better case (raison-d-etre if you will) for my fervour. Reason #2 is, simply, its price. One hears (and of late there is little to distract) corruption rajas of contemporary India swindle 1,70,00,00,00,00,00,000 (please check my zeros someone) Rupees improving connectivity; others siphon off the good part of a (relatively modest) few tens of thousand crores when organizing a sporting event, almost killing the goose itself; an ideal housing scheme for Kargil War vets degenerates into a (paltry) some hundred crore scam. It is a struggle to grasp the enormity of these astronomical amounts - arithmetic begs a picture, worth a thousand words (crore actually). For instance, growing up in Middle India, one imagined lakhs via sundry cars; now talk a crore or two and visualize that apartment of our dreams; but, by God, a few hundred crore, and many more? Head-reeling numbers and 'everyday the paper boy brings more'? And how do they make that kind of money? Why want to? What to do with it? Enter Veyron, up the ante for cars, and at least there is the start of improved perspective. Of course, humble India needs more such symbols, if only to help us learn the New Math (of the dubious) and enhance our imagination.

Obviously this is hardly to pull the VW car down (and is too far removed to be a case of sour grapes)! Equally frankly, my congratulations to any actual buyer is half-muted; appreciation of its technological marvels or epicurean appeal has been dulled by a generally eroded conviction in the balance of good and bad karma in the world. Yet, as caprice scales new heights and honesty gets scarce to the point of endangerment, some core beliefs need reassertion. Skeptic yes, shades of grey perhaps, but one ought not succumb to the ogre: no comfortably-numb suicide. Selfishly and for posterity, the choice is to stay angry, lest we get stuck in a Wheel of Misfortune!

The Cycle Diaries: Bihar 2010

My apology to Che-lovers for the title, but the pull of the wheel has been strong in this space these last few days, and it sounded like a good time to talk 'cycle politics' in my beloved home state! For the politically disinclined or oracularly averse (you would be hard put to find self-respecting Biharis willing to go by either description) the crucial eastern state is mid-way through polls to elect a new Vidhan Sabha. Truth to tell, in the fractious cauldron of Bihar's polity where caste often looms larger than life, the election appears a close call. (At the very least, it may not be the cakewalk for the ruling NDA that the Media would have us believe). The battle is, equally, critical to fortunes of at least two regional satraps with thinly-veiled national ambitions. For the country's largest party too, a toehold in Bihar is crucial to its longer term consolidation plans.

Naturally, with such high stakes, it is a no-holds barred fight, with participants of all ilks looking for and playing up the minutest of issues. One idea that has thus taken centrestage is the Mukhyamantri Balika Cycle Yojana. The scheme is simple enough: it entitles girls who pass Class VIII in government schools to state support in form of a free bicycle, or INR 2000 to buy one. (It should come as no surprise that though the Nitish Kumar government has extended the scheme to boys, it is only the promise of female empowerment implicit in its original version that has caught everyone's fancy in one of India's most backward states.)

On his part, Nitish has not shirked from riding the bicycle into the grime of electoral debate. He has extolled its virtues, from obvious aspects like education enabling gender equality to deft positioning as a lesson in striking balance. The latter in particular is a veritable coup d'maitre: in a single turn of the pedal, it transforms the potentially conflict-creating shades of any force of female assertion arising from the scheme, and adds character of blend and acceptability. The logic is pithy, indeed vital in the extant male dominated quasi-feudal milieu, but clearly there is bigger game afoot.

In the larger picture, Nitish knows that the issue of governance played more than its part in pitchforking the NDA to power in 2005 (and reinforced in 2009) when his predecessor's much-vaunted contempt for vikas as a demotic issue came up electoral turtle. (Go back in history and one could make an equally good case via Rajiv's freshman promise and appeal to change in the massive post-Indira assassination mandate.) In short, development may not be an absolutist winning ticket but it can be a great consolidator in electoral sweepstakes. The wily politician in the Bihar CM reckons he needs every card on the table to retain the edge in its complex electoral arithmetic. (The same come-all desperation also motivates his covert appeasement of neo JD-U converts and the occasional bahubali, moves that are termed capitulation by pro-vikas votaries in the intelligentsia.)

At the same time, the pragmatic Nitish recognizes he is no Narendra Modi, missing the BJP strongman's masterly leveraging of the governance plank, and indeed his enviable track record. Even Modi's biggest detractors (and Bihar's CM does occasionally assume that garb) cannot turn from the single-minded determination that Chhote Sardar brings to Gujarat's development agenda, or his patience-is-not-a-virtue attitude to execution. Unfortunately Bihar under NDA rule has mostly struggled to shrug off the negative growth RJD legacy and actually partially benefitted from its shrunk-denominator effect. In a nutshell, it is no one's case to argue that no good has come about in Bihar post 2005, but its pace has been painfully slow and corruption has continued to sadly fester. The incumbent CM therefore has little choice but to root for the symbolism in the bicycle scheme.

The compulsions for Nitish's main challenger are of course entirely different. Shri Laloo Yadav is looking for a way out of political Recycle Bin, hoping that the cycle of change makes people vote RJD's lantern back to power. The path is hardly rosy and the 70+ one-time kingmaker has struggled to brew a concoction to renew his spell, apart from hope in Rambilas Paswan's vote-transfer ability. After initial flirtations with the development plank by pointing to his record as Railway Minister (a claim made hollow thanks to Didi's revelations) he reportedly tried one-upmanship too - promising Class IX students motorcycles if victorious (so much simpler to match 1-kg rice with 2, alas!) but thankfully did not persist. It is, after all, one thing to turn animal fodder into millions, and quite another to conjure up finances for a mere-paas-motorcycle scheme (petrol bhi hai?). And then there is the minor happenstance of students not being of driving age, a fact that Nitish was quick to drive home, calling his bete noire's schemes as "always meant to land you jail"!

We have had some RJD leaders attempt murder-by-whispers too, with talk of how bicycles were being used to finance eloping couples, inter-caste marriages and what-not. Such slander campaigns sit light though, and most Biharis are too politically adept to miss the attempt to wash over Lalooji's misgovernance credentials (he once publicly castigated his trusted lieutenant, Raghuvansh P Singh, for mentioning development during an election rally, calling it an avoidable digression from the fight against communal forces!). Hence, his core support base more or less intact (though there is some talk of post-Babri Muslim angst changing this at a local seat level), Lalooji has been left to ponder where the additional numbers will come from. One can never write him off too soon, but it has till now sounded like a far cry from the days of samose-mein-aloo.

In a few days from now, we will get to know how it stacks up. Yet, irrespective of party inclination, a political lesson cannot be missed and is a harbinger of hope for the Bihari in me. Holding its own amidst the high stakes and tightly strung social equations, the humble bicycle, campaign rally exhibit extraordinaire, epitomizes the inevitable drive of economic progress and inclusive agenda. Or as a much wiser man once put it, one cannot fool all the people all of the time!

In Driving Seat!

My credentials as a backseat driver are rather suspect, to say the least. Hence it is not easy for me to put to paper experiences of a driving kind, but a Zen moment this Tue morning, amidst Cyber City rush hour traffic, did cause me a pause - hence this. (To make a full confession, one must add that it helped that this was also a week when Delhi formalized its intent to - finally - bid adieu to its dreaded Blue Line bus fleet.)

Now for the last few years, my chosen set of wheels has been a truck (actually two, both poor man's SUVs to boot). Naturally, if for no other reason, this has put paid to any ambitions of one-red-light-to-the-next Formula 1 speed thrills that most Delhiites consider their bounden duty to practice. In fact, enough of them (any number exceeding zero is too many, in my book) take the killer-instinct facet of their nature too literally for anyone of sane counsel to desist from indulging in pyrotechnics behind the wheel - unless desiring publicity as the day's victim is some horror tale of road rage. In such trigger-happy times, one is therefore left with not much choice but give the next horn-prone pup right of way, and enjoy the wafts of dhakchik-dhakchik music they leave in their wake. (Back in College, it was a source of much wonder for me as to how so much noise pollution was managed, till someone clarified that specialized - and naturally expensive - equipment was duly installed to create the jhankaar beat!) A show must be made, after all. And it must go on.

Cut to 2007. With a good chunk of my motoring in Gurgaon, with roads that rivalled Laloo's Bihar for non-existence, one learnt new lessons in forbearance. The strip availbale to drive was narrow, the traffic unending, and the desire to be first in office all consuming. With such evolved mindset in the fellow driver, there was little to do but enjoy oodles of me-time stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. (This of course rendered the no-handphone law quite redundant - they may be little distraction in a sea of red that a million feet on the brake pedal and no street lights produce!) Yet, to go back to the question of road rage, two competing species were found in abundance - the Call Center cabbie, overworked, underpaid and an embodiment of a what-me-wait credo; and the local agriculture-culture afficionado, sometimes on a tractor, often on an LCV, for whom a 4 lane road meant 2 opposing lanes on either side of the median. Ouch.

In such a setting of bad-road-worse-traffic, and caught amidst a Darwinian struggle for survival between might-is-right tractor and no-waiting-no-stopping Qualis; it would be rank dishonesty to claim that my patience levels, though infinite, were never tested! Faced with an assault of the senses, it would be a body much worse conductor of heat and or electricity than most folks of my acquaintance, including me, that would not occasionally boil over. And so, unfortunately, we succumbed. Thankfully we survived too. Yet, my lasting memory of any such skirmish was no sense of victory in getting the better of it, but clenched teeth, muttered breath, foul mood, and more.

The tale this Tuesday, though, is not of victory. Though running a wee bit late to work, and just the final turn in to the office building, my focus was tested by two gentlemen who, though not out of nowhere, decided to forsake the median they were perched on, and jump right in the my straight line path. The traffic having just cleared up, my newbie enthusiasm for an automatic was finding expression, when one had to resort to testing that other novelle feature - the ABS. The steed responded well enough, bringing me up well short of the duo - who were any case a study in indifference. Perhaps it was appreciation of the advancement in automobile technology (we do love instant responses, don't we!) or satisfaction at my holding my own against the vagaries of time (my split second reaction), but the three of us (yes, thats me included) each broke into a smile. To make matters more profound, and at my gesture bidding them to pass (one has to do a Cyber City cross-country to fully appreciate this) they responded by waving me on instead.

And so where there may have been righteous indignation or early morning vocal chord exercise (on either side), but certainly all round frustration, we had smiles, thank you! (Looking back, one is thankful too for the pre-brake speed that precluded any of my following traffic getting too close for comfort!) A good start to the day, we say. Or, in effulgent Diwali spirt, hope for more :)

The Game of The Name

Its official now. In a widely reported 'confidential' note, Cabinet Secretary KM Chandrashekhar has mandated against indiscriminate use of Indira and Rajiv Gandhi’s names for government initiatives to "prevent proliferation of such association." The directive has not come a moment too soon. By one count, over 450 schemes have been blessed with these prefixes since 1991 alone, a fact that had drew frequent critique from Opposition benches. It was also the subject of a petition to the Election Commission last year, suggesting the practice violative of the Model Code of Conduct. That the Government has finally chosen to "to be sparing and selective" is, therefore, at best a case of late-than-never!

Apart from displaying a singular lack of imagination, this publicity overkill was bound to be counter-productive. It is one thing to name the most prominent road in every town in the country after the venerable Mahatma, post anointing him Father of the Nation. It is another to affix Nehru-Indira-Rajiv (not in that order) to every government program impinging all walks of life. As the journalist father of the EC petition pointed out, from child bearing, rearing, education, employment and marriage; schemes concerning the citizenry's entire life-cycle found coverage! Of course, the patronage extended to national challenges too: food, drinking water, shelter, electricity, destitution, handicap - you name it and you had it, pardon the pun. Various state governments as well as central ministries seemed in a mindless race, falling over one another to appropriate these prize prefixes, presumably to find favour with Congress's First Family. It is only natural that some of these schemes exist only in 'name': National Water Mission, Fellowship Scheme, Gramin LPG Vitrak Yojana, Creche Scheme, Scheme for Empowerment of Adolescent Girls (Rajiv, all); Old Age Pension, Matritva Sahyog Yojna (ditto Indira), to 'name' but a few.

Faced with this assault of the ubiquitous, the aam aadmi, purported mascot of our ruling dispensation, could only respond with characteristic nonchalance. Unfortunately this resignation meant even actions bordering on the ridiculous went unprotested. For instance, the powers-that-be were obviously unimpressed with the globally recognized Brand IIM. What else explains the desire to add 'Rajiv Gandhi' to the moniker for the Indian Institute of Management's fledgling Shillong edition. At least the hue and cry over the MoST's use of Sonia Gandhi’s visage on NH signboards had the good lady herself ask its able minister to desist. (In any case, in the Congress scheme of things, few would have dared suggest removal, for fear of inviting questions on 'loyalty' all partymen wear on their sleeves!)

Perhaps one could explain actions of a developmental nature needing such heavy handed government guidance. Note however that even an activity like sports was hardly untouched. Tournaments of note carrying Gandhi-Nehru nomenclature ranged from cricket and football, through beachball and kabaddi, down to the Kerala Boat Race! In a nation short on sporting achievement (an odd CWG notwithstanding) one wonders if this was not a frittered opportunity to build examples from within the pantheon. In this backdrop, apparent concerns over potential "devaluation of the national leaders" is eminently laughable officialspeak.

Think larger picture and this name-rename obsession remains a quaint Indian construct. Having once had "San 1942 August Kranti Marg" as my mailing address (read it aloud if you don't find it funny; popular parlance any case had it as Hardinge Road), my acquaintance with this wasteful pastime is old. (We moved to MacDonnell Road a k a Madhav Shrihari Aney Marg next!) In fact, contemporary India has been stage for many puerile efforts over the years. Witness agitations to cleanse Bombay, Madras and Calcutta of their colonial past (more Ban-galore's are in store for sure!); or facelift for Odisha or Uttarakhand; plus thousands of roads, lanes and bylanes that have had name surgery, it is easy to understand why the Great Unwashed rarely care. Almost without exception, these cosmetic changes are shrugged off with the indulgent disdain Indians typically reserve for the political ilk and their shenanigans. At any rate, even if some such interventions have been accepted, they have done little to enhance the respective denizen's self worth, nor quality of life.

It is, therefore, incumbent on us to actively protest such name games beyond the issue of wastefully "associating names of national leaders". As a nation with superpower ambitions, taxpayer money and political interest are better served in actual pursuit of schemes like NREGA (pronounced Na-Re-Ga in the heartland) than its rechristening 4 years after launch, apparently in tribute to his dedication to Gram Swaraj, after Mahatma Gandhi. Else we will end up with MREGA :)

For Bettor or Worse

One more scandal. In Cricket. And with origins in our north-westerly neighbor. Before you yawn and throw the newspaper away, cursing them for rehashing old copy, pause a moment. Media baiting apart, recycling strategy does not sell newspapers, at least on a sustainable basis - and mine certainly wears its readership high on its sleeve. If this be the truth, there must be more to it, including a reason why Cricket has kept company with controversy with striking regularity of late.

My brush with the purported gentlemanliness of cricket came from pages of the same newspaper, years ago. The mid-80's, newly launched HT Patna edition headlined "It's Not Cricket" for some fiasco on the ground - the kind that’s hardly likely to cause you to blink in our more cynically evolved times! A question to the Pater elicited an etymological explanation in the game's history and tradition-rich lore. Not sure if it significantly altered my on-field behaviour (or lack of notable achievement), but much before Atticus Finch, it was an excellent introduction to that intangible called sportsman spirit.

Those wistful memories, though, are not the only reason to grieve the morass of modern Cricket. Mind you, the actual charges the tainted trio from Pakistan (and Akmal D’Artagnan) stand in the dock for, are neither unique nor original. More than a few of India's own, including our Hon'ble MP from Moradabd (though his erstwhile tarnished reputation has lately been alight with some other flame!) have shamed cricket and left even its diehard fans wondering whether on-field exploits are driven by sporting acumen or Mammonic influence. One can go so far as to argue that this skepticism; and an exposure overdose have led to Cricket's (relatively) flagging following - and gradual rise of other sports.

In any event, no nation has made such inseparable acquaintance with controversy as Pakistan. Go back but a few years and Pak cricket has been newsworthy more for unsavoury dealings and repeated individual misconduct than genuine cricketing reasons. If unconvinced, try and picture generation's-best-bat Inzamam (thus spake Imran; move over Lara, Sachin!), Peter Pan cowboy Afridi, sex-n-speed (pun intended) posterchild Shoaib Akhtar, twice-named Yousuf (more pun intended) and check if images of occasional glory are not tainted interminably with talent-wasting notoriety. Indeed Pakistani cricketers come and go (often for multiple voluntary and forced retirements!) but despite several efforts to clean their Augean stables, the muck refuses to wash off.

Perhaps all the internecine bickering and dubious (on- and off-field) debacles in Pak cricket could be brushed off as symptomatic of the rot in that country. The world has, after all, been comfortably numbed to bad news from Pakistan. Mourning the absence of sporting events in its geography is not easy given what transpired when Lankan Tigers last dared to venture there. Yet, history teaches us that existence of exclusion begets politics of hate. An economically challenged, educationally backward and socially fragmented state is fertile ground for the unleashing the worst within us. If no other, then this is good reason to shed a tear for Muhammad Amir. Not from the country's oligopolistic elite against whose doorstep lies the blame for most of the mess that is Pakistan, and whose fiefdom the nation's cricket has traditionally been; Amir would not have had it easy. His was a long, heroic journey from the Swat valley, now not famous for panoramic beauty but notorious for the war against Taliban; to matchwinning brilliance at Lord's. For a nation short on inspiration, at least of the right variety, such fairytale stuff was pertinent, to say the least. With those no-balls, alas, the spell is broken!

At another level, we must ponder if too much is invested in the game in the sub-continent: the ridiculous shenanigans before, during and after IPL ought to have triggered such thoughts anyhow. As case in point, consider the pointless brouhaha over another no-ball and symphony of sympathy for Sehwag (he too woke up to it overnight!). For sure lament the decline in the spirit of the game in such incidents but let us equally appreciate the larger context of its commercialization where, indeed, we have played a leading role. And certainly give those ill-founded, frenzied waves of jingoism a miss - it is, after all, just a game :)

PS: My vote too, for legalizing betting. Like the War against Tobacco teaches us, one plays them best when allowed out of the closet. Viva Transparency!

Damp Squib

Months ago, the draft of a new Direct Taxes Code for India had drawn much public acclaim, including in these pages. This was not without reason. For starters, the existing system was visibly knocking the doors of obsolescence. Hence, any review intended to simplify its archaic tenets (thereby reducing repeated recourse to judicial interpretation) was hugely welcome. Next, a forward-looking document shorn of its predecessor's dotage could enable the taxman to better engage and deploy tools of New Age technologies. This promised a sea change in efficiency and effectiveness of Direct Taxes administration (on counts like evasion detection, internal security etc) making it a progressive legislation worthy of our budding economic superpower billing. Last and not least, the very idea of promoting larger debate prior to finalization bespoke intellectual honesty and inclusiveness rare in our policymaking experience. A thumbs-up for this wiki approach was much in line.

However, implicit in all these arguments (in fact providing them overall credence) was the gamechanging nature of actual changes proposed to the tax framework. If it were to fall prey to back-room intrigue and lobbying, as the more cynical amongst us foretold, it would be a real pity in face of path-breaking promise. Even as these fears lurked, the Revised Discussion paper one heard of a few months back, too sounded headed in a compromise-riddled direction. And sadly that is exactly what has finally come home to roost in the proposal formally introduced in the Parliament this week.

So how has the cheer of the finest's toast for Pranab da slipped to old wine-new bottle despair? Not merely for selfish reasons, my first disappointment remains the largely superficial personal taxation changes. In fact, the reams of newsprint dedicated to laud the 'extra income' (INR 24K at the upper end) through marginally tweaked tax slabs makes one wonder when our mainstream media will mature beyond homilies and cliché. (To avoid sounding like a stuck record, one must steer clear of media-bashing: though richly deserved, there is zero surprise in our Fourth Estate's centrist and arguably pro-Congress slant.) In any event, basic math of inflation on the ostensibly cast-in-stone slab values itself beats hollow the DTC's pithy positioning as windfall for the taxpayer!

Going beyond this, one must rue the potential in a truly simplified tax framework. With 6.5% of tax incidence sacrificed at the politically expedient altar of Exemptions, the Government had a clear shot at reducing cost and complexity. Moreover, removal of potentially distortionary criteria would have improved investment decision-making for aam aadmi and HNI alike. Equally, a move to EET could have meant a boost for long term Savings (PF withdrawal is an example) but has been belied. Perhaps most importantly though, the survival of Exemption regime has reduced the leeway to lower rates and punt on increased adherence, ultimately limiting the ability to fund the Government's ambitious developmental agenda.

The saving grace has been the refusal to tinker with Capital Gains Tax that would have created an artificial portfolio churn opportunity (en masse profitbooking in March, followed by resumed long in April, a cost minus any economic value add) that has been avoided. (In lighter vein, the DTC is also the government's first assertion of having achieved its gender equality goals. So the deduction differential allowed for woman taxpayers stands withdrawn, unless if merely saved for a subsequent budget to reinstate)!

Of the pieces of fine print, the other notable revision in the Bill vs its draft is the compromise on corporate taxation. A strong argument exists as to how the Government thus frittered a chance to overhaul capital allocation in our economy. The erstwhile proposal to predicate MAT on gross assets vs book profits represented a fundamental change in the much-misused play around lowering tax liability via investment led depreciation benefits. From usage as tool to 'manage' tax, investments could have come into their own and be evaluated for true CBA. Big Business lobby however (including relatively genuine voices from its capital intensive variety) has ensured we are left with Photoshop type interventions in form of lowered tax rates via elimination of cess, surcharge etc. If, as successive FMs had given us to understand, these were temporary inclusions in our tax regime, it hardly needed a large-scale DTC exercise to get rid of them. Again, there is no surety that some other flavour that suits the incumbent political mood will not 'force' the government of the day to resurrect these ostensibly stopgap devices.

All told, this residual pot of half measures still sets the Taxman back 1% of their INR 5.8 lakh Cr annual kitty, without any redeeming expectation of increased adherence. A solitary hope remains - with the suspense and end Feb Budget jitters gone, we could leverage the long term Tax structure come 2012. If only the redoubtable Mr Mukherjee had been inspired by the spectacular doomsday caper of the same name, the changes would be a bit more appreciable...

Leave 'Em Kids Alone!

An article, tucked away in the inside pages of the newspaper two Sundays ago, rekindled some of my fondest childhood memories. It bespoke an impending rewrite of ten bestsellers from the 'Famous Five' series originally authored by the iconic Enid Blyton. Yet, news of the tweak, planned to better their appeal to contemporary pre-teen palate, left me somewhat disquieted.

To talk joys first, my acquaintance with the four kids and their canine retainer (hence the Five) arose in rather happy circumstances. An infrequent happenstance of academic achievement had my father gift me one of their novels as reward (likely expecting an encore!) from the neighborhood bookstore. The Five were thick with me in barely a few pages. For the uninitiated, three of them were siblings: the eldest, Julian, a cocky early introduction to 'first among equals'; the spirited and fun-loving Dick; and archetypal kid sister Anne. Accompanied by their feisty cousin George (never Georgina), their ageless tales of adventure made them much more than adolescent characters on elegant typeface. And Timothy or Tim, but mostly Timmy, their mongrel pet of supernatural gifts and yet higher loyalty, was the dog's dog. If more were needed, he was added motivation for many a young boy to yearn for Man's Best Friend about the house. (No doubt an almost equal number of mothers held the ruthless opposite view, and we know how most such debates conclude!)

In any event, Ms Blyton’s words and (albeit in smaller fashion) my animated imagination conspired to lend myriad hues to the sketched images. Convenient neighbourhood landmarks and sights from memory were cheekily appended, Rushdiesque, to suffuse them with vividly pulsating life. The Five were my friends next-door, yet magically faraway, in a subliminal construct that only childhood innocence and suitably stimulatory literature can produce. My love affair with the written word commenced with them (and a flock of the prolific Enid’s finest); kept alive thereafter by assorted characters from Fiction and more.

Imagine then, to have editorial scissors run amok this merry company! With the singularly insipid beacon of market research to light the way, a team is attempting to "sensitively and carefully" reconstruct the original. Primary onus, one is given to understand, is to correct an ostensibly antediluvian slang. Unfortunately, such a stance sits well with spin-doctors, not purveyors of young adult literature – but it is perhaps symbolic of our analysis-paralysis times.

To begin with, the charge that today’s young are shying from Five's idiom, while not incredible, sounds frankly tenuous. For it to stick, one must believe that the set of 21 penned over a like number of years ending 1963; amazingly alive and kicking for many of us through the mid-80’s; has managed to age significantly over the succeeding two decades. Equally, it surprises me enormously that a generation at least a thousand times brighter than ours at their equivalent age, needs editorial crutches to understand Blyton’s oeuvre. One can dismiss mine as a jaundiced eye, but such misconceived research may be better illustration of testing biased hypotheses than allegedly passé language or deficiency of acumen.

Of course, true to spin-doctor form, the author's name has been invoked in justification of the exercise. We are reminded how a "passionate" advocate of child literacy as Blyton would appreciate the need for her immortal characters to mouth appropriate "conversation" style dialogue. She was, in any case, famously disinterested in the views of critics over 12!

One wonders where such surgery would end, however. Would one, for instance, make George try less hard to be a boy in case not setting the politically correct example to today's youth? Or perhaps have in Anne not the occasionally tear-prone timid young lady that she was, for fear of hurting Women's Lib? One ought to cleanse the precocious Ju of his 'girls will be girls; boys, boys' elder brother complex. The inappropriately named Dick must need drastic repositioning, surely. Persisting, we could turn our attention to plots and paraphernalia: highlight dangers of presenting camping out as fun; review gypsies’ portrayal lest they take umbrage; check for animal rights violations in Timmy's caricature; evaluate Uncle Quentin’s absent-mindedness as endangering the scientific community; and more!

Incidentally, there would remain a profusion of Blyton waiting to be tackled. Secret Seven, Barney, Mallory Towers, St Clare's - we could be at this for some time (thus keeping certain unnamed cash registers ringing)! Perhaps the indefatigable Blyton preordained the dangers she was flirting with - she had not one but two sets of Five adolescents solving mysteries around England. Now if only she had not let the other group be led by the redoubtable Fatty...

PS: The last named, Frederick Algernon Trotteville, has already been blessed with a trim noveau visage last year... Who blames Kareena Kapoor for Size Zero fixation?

Animal Farm

One of India's more watched news channels and its leading English daily recently ran an expose on the pitiful state of our food distribution system. Given the sheer emotive value of rotting grain in a nation home to the world's largest concentration of the hungry, yet with superpower ambitions, public interest was bound to get fired up. Again, the backdrop of runaway food inflation (that has under its spell more than a trifling percentage of our Great Unwashed) provided to the outrage a tinge of rare immediacy. A call to action, so to speak, seemed incipient in the wave of national indignation.

Yet, it remains a moot question as to whether this will lead to tangible change. While the media may have chanced upon its grandstand newsworthiness now, the issue has been hanging fire for ages. My personal recall itself is from two decades ago - copious if not compelling lamentations on 'distribution losses', penned in the pursuit of an Economics degree - and the problem was not of recent vintage even then! Indeed similar protestations brought academic glory to many (not me!) over the years, with pithy math of mouths fed if gaps plugged etc. Yet to not much avail, as the sordid visuals from TV testify. For one, the agricultural supply chain has been hostage to political ambivalence for too long. Such has been the potency of notoriously enmeshed vested interests in its every leg, that all other actors need to be content with status-quoist survival play, mostly far too cynical to challenge it. A quick sample is illustrative of the extent of the rot in the entire ecosystem:

Starting at the farm-gate, the so-called farmer lobby (read large agriculturists) cannot think beyond input subsidy retention and diesel price control. Interest in output is limited to pushing periodic MSP increases, with populist governments only too willing to oblige. Their small-marginal brethren are too fractured to wield any real political influence, clear from the typically lackadaisical, stopgap response to farmer suicide. Lack of organized credit in any case confines their choices - a fledgling microfinance revolution is still some time away. (This is not to undermine the fact that better contextual appreciation and economic timing helps sustain local moneylender-cum-intermediary strangleholds.) In this extant reality of stagnant productivity, the otherwise laudable NREGA and mostly reprehensible Maoist violence – both add fresh undercurrents. It remains to be seen how these play out, but (at least for now) they have bred more questions than solutions.

Moving ahead in the chain, the picture alters only slightly. Higher investment continues to be a crying need in storage and distribution of agricultural produce. Public sector agencies hold the key, but gunnies full of foodgrain don’t have a vote, and tackling post harvest waste remains low in their priorities. Other logistics players, only occasionally different from middlemen, have little motivation to drive efficiency, with infrastructure (and corruption) squeeze on margins, unless to profit from (artificially induced) supply imbalances. Lastly, wholesale through last-mile retail suffer from scale, subject to high rent, rising operating expenses and limited organized investment, disadvantaging honest trade.

Fact remains that our nation also drove a Green Revolution. The erstwhile stage was one of stronger political will, public memory fresh from ignominious PL 480 capitulations. In consequently sympathetic ears, AIR propagated research science prescriptions and rural India took to HYV seeds, fertilizer and irrigation in little time. (Incidentally, the most common critique of the Revolution's centres around land degradation, showing little appreciation of R&D’s evolutionary nature - science is a process of constant churn, not one-time infusion. Critics likewise gloss over the lopsided nature of fertilizer subsidy etc.)

In short, we must lean on science again. Be it input optimization, cultivation and processing practices, storage or transit efficiency - each can benefit from the strides the scientific-industrial world has taken over the years. (Robust risk modelling too can help drive deeper microcredit penetration but that science, alas, draws much derision in a post-Lehman world!) And our IT prowess can be brought to bear on information gaps that mess up cycle time, cost and pricing across the value chain.

It would, of course, be naive to think one can solve it without social science. And no, this is not a call to the political class to miraculously conjure the will to lead the charge. Shorn of direct electoral gain, political commitment levels seldom multiply manifold - if it has not happened in years, a blog post or television theatrics won’t. (Our beloved Agriculture Minister is anyways planning to focus on his new ICC Chair, when not engaged in periodic one-upmanship exercises with his professed ally). This is merely to request for not wilfully muddying the waters. We cannot afford to continue ludicrous supply-pricing games; with ill-advised and badly-executed (if not dubiously intended) market interventions missing economic sense.

Hypercritical of politics after a fashion? No. We should recognize the math by which 58 million tonnes of stock accumulates, double of actual need, Or how over a million tonnes were lost to storage and transit in the last four years while at least as many parts of the country reported starvation deaths. (Yes, we did give folks with BPL cards TV sets in some recent state elections. Good - they can now watch the tragicomedy play out live.) So if our political master can just about manage to keep their gaming instincts under control, this can get off the ground well enough. And if we are really, truly lucky, perhaps they can think visionary - and allow full mobility and free markets in the sector. Food Security would then move from policy shibboleth to proud reality.

Numb and Number

Well into the 21st century, the first impression for anyone walking into a government office in India is likely an image of a deluge of paper, embodiment of its creaking infrastructure. A proliferation of overflowing cupboards, dusty files stacked wall to wall, cobweb-tarred piles kissing the roof and reigning over every spit-stained corner; it is an ugly and telling sight. The obvious: a grim tale of bureaucratic sloth suggestive of indifference, busy adding to the karguzari paper mountain day by day. Equally, a sense of wonder: how, in its midst and despite it, the business of governance carries on in our vast, parched lands.

Times are a-changing though. Via some central initiative but mostly local effort, the Government is waking up to technology and convergence. While paperless is a far cry, Indian officialdom is taking gradual, diffident steps to improve information management and productivity. This is only natural. Services, and specifically IT, offered a way out in a country beset by inadequate physical infrastructure. In tandem with corruption and lopsided left-leaning policy, these bottlenecks had leashed us to a 'Hindu' rate of growth and an economic has-been status. New Age technology enabled the emergence of a confident, vibrant India that we see generous glimpses of, today. Thus, it is only fitting that it provide the vehicle for our governance transformation, light in a pen-pushing paper-serving Black Hole where citizenry feared to tread.

Obviously, this goes much beyond paper. Of vital significance is technology's gamechanging capabilities in delivery of governance benefits. Indeed, no less than 27 mission critical projects have been put by the Government to this task. UID, or Aadhar as it now named, is arguably the most important of these: the core of our national e-enablement effort. The idea is simple - a unique identifier to serve as primary key driving the massive information repository that governance for a billion plus populace entails. Naturally, the superstructure can only be as good as its edifice. And the UID ask is humongous: plan and execute a 12-digit numerical tag for a mindboggling 600 million records, including associated biometric and personal data. All this over the next 4 years, while staying true to the goals of building a robust and efficient system. If successful, this identifier and pathbreaking database of biometric permanent account numbers and personal statistics would enable policy analytics and monitoring at an unprecedented scale. Frankly, it is near impossible to envision the full governance impact of the result. Yet, broadly speaking, its incisive segmentation and targeting ability would be a dream in terms of faster rollout, easier tracking and better audit.

Of course, the picture is not all hunky dory. The enormity of the exercise is perhaps equalled only by its complexity. For instance, potential private use is a double edged sword. While it does wonders for, say, a financial services company for verification, marketing analytics purposes etc, the risk in unfrittered online access to personal information can be immense, especially for a terrorism frontline state. To this extent, UID is much more than a technological challenge of system design. Imagine, its potential multilevel security solution and consider that this also address ease of accessibility, given a citizenry with varying levels of computer proficiency, safely assumed low in average. Then there are connectivity concerns (Mukeshbhai's opportunity can be Nilekani's bugbear!). Revert to traditional paper census methods or a paper-hub-digital-spoke model and you open up data compromise risks in L1 implementation itself. Power can play spoilsport too - though solar panels were used to fill gaps in proof-of-concept stage, one must bear in mind that a Karnataka does not an India make. We cannot be blind to the bureaucracy's internal change resistance either - some of the flock do love a good drought, as we unfortunately know only too well! And so on.

Yet, the RTI experience teaches us that political will at the top goes a long way in overcoming what seems prima facie insurmountable. Similar commitment must be mobilized to tackle the issue of Data Privacy protection for our citizens. Not only is this a clear checks-and-balances need in post-UID India, it is high time time the Government realizes that misuse potential in a nation with lax, ill-defined laws is not restricted to its Internal Security agencies. Take this train of thought forward, and one would love to see proactive public debate around Aadhar's design and other postulates and concerns - different from the self congratulatory world-hunger-solution posturing that has come by till date. Short of this, it will be another gamechanger that flattered to deceive!

U(r)LIP or Mine?

A couple of smug rookies posturing as 'Relationship Managers' at my banks, an almost equally miniscule minority that seek me out for speculative advice, and hordes of DNC disdainful telemarketers peddling insurance - all can stand testimony to my ULIP agnostic investment strategy. My stance is hardly original: most financial experts of any standing shun from including ULIP in their shopping cart must-haves. Despite this rare unanimity and strong arguments against the product class, it has drawn investor interest consistently. The reasons behind this ostensible paradox, or indeed the product's long term survival, have assumed centrestage with recent developments in form of the SEBI-IRDA jurisdictional battle. At the heart of this is regulatory changes that, as one understands, shall address opacity and investor-unfriendly practices that ail ULIP sale and service delivery, if not inherent in their design itself.

To fully appreciate the context of the proposed changes, one must recognize that ULIPs have been sold in a manner completely antithetical to the basic nature of the family to which they allegedly belong. (Most people one knows, when buying a ULIP, actually believe they are taking 'smart' life cover.) The lure of entering an asset class where 'your money is not idle' but 'deployed to maximize return' and hence afford 'better term cover', has been irresistible for the typical gullible investor, fed on years of stodgy state-run insurance firms’ (often unfairly so dubbed) unimaginative offerings and dull salesforce. A general expectation of market efficiency over public sector sloth thus plays to the aggressively positioned ULIP schemes promising lay investors the moon.

Again, an investment offering of this kind, with significant dependence on market performance, usually comes into its own in the long run (and this is not 3 to 5 years that qualify as lifetime to today’s average 25 year old). Look out 10 years, or 15, if not 20, and cyclical noise is factored out of markets and sensible, old-fashioned stockpicking yields full results. This is clearly market-oriented investment spiel (say equity, MF) but unfortunately not one that a lot of neophyte investors readily bite, obsessed with 'timing' the market. The same investor, when thinking term cover, expects longer tenors in line with life expectancy. The resultant surge of patience, sweetened with promise of exceptional return, draws savings to ULIP schemes.

Of course, it is obvious that such troths of exponential growth do not sit well with life cover. Yet, spurred by extraordinary incentives that can only come via heavily front loaded cost structures (upto 45% of Y1 premium goes thus!), a bevy of insurance salesmen have positioned ULIP as a best-of-both-worlds insurance product generating assured return over months and years. The post sale dissonance that naturally results (it is difficult to think a worse period of investor sentiment and market return than the last two) leads to massive exits. Yet, unlike market instruments where such attrition is visible (and actionable) ULIP truancy figures are hardly the most advertised. Hence the ecosystem of under-informed investors, mal-intentioned agents and lazy insurance firms continues to flourish.

At another level, ULIPs represent a large (if invisible) problem for the last mentioned of these: private sector insurance companies. There is a highly credible school of thought that makes a case for what drives this disproportionate focus on win-today-worry-tomorrow rat race for the investable rupee. The motivation, arguably, comes from higher capital adequacy norms for guaranteed (term insurance) vs market-linked (investment) assets. This makes minimization of life cover per rupee vested an attractive strategy for quick gain. Unfortunately, this evanescence creates not merely an economic but a potentially significant social issue that can wreck us in the long run. In an under-insured nation like India, with rising healthcare demand (and costs) but inadequate social security structures, such missell of investment in garb of insurance can lead to consequences far more dramatic than most of us care to think. (Term cover, after all, is for those eventualities of life that leave us at our most frail and disturbed.)

All these have been known for a while. Yet, aside from (big picture inconsequential) individual purchase decisions like mine, not much had been attempted to correct this systemically. (Or if something was in the works, it was certainly not PDQ pace!) To this extent, the very public spat between our hyperactive market regulator and their largely somnolent insurance cousin, was most welcome. In characteristic Bhave fashion, SEBI initiated action to clear the mess under an investor friendly bias. In the ensuing turf battle, the IRDA has come up trumps. (SEBI's knock on Supreme Court’s doors was in vain: GoI stepped in with its IRDA-primacy ordinance before the courtroom drama was fully played out - and while CBB was away on business in Canada!)

The cynical in our midst ought to be unsurprised - the venerable J Hari Narayan has impeccable credentials to win any back-room battle: years spent in the government have admirably equipped the ex-IAS officer to work the Establishment. (Interestingly, despite similar pedigree, Bhave does not have the same reputation.) Equally, while missing the visible zeal of his no-nonsense SEBI counterpart, the charitable can point to JHN’s record of not shirking from a tough stand in the face of controversy. In any case, he has Pranabda’s mandate.

Regardless, the verdict of the territorial fracas is hardly the key issue. Of essence is whether and how the Govt and its now unequivocally empowered regulator finally set the house in order. Even if one were to ignore my over-pessimistic doomsday predilections on the social impact of messing with the small saver, there can be little doubt that Shri Hari Narayan presides over a window of opportunity - to serve the lay investor well, while providing an overdue lifeline to ULIPs. Else, the victory, so to speak, may remain Pyrrhic.

Shoania, Show-Inane-Yeah

Incessant appetite for scurrilous gossip and celebrity obsession can hardly be classified as inventions of contemporary vintage. However, the heights (or depths, as seems a more apt description) this theater of the Absurd has attained of late is certainly without precedent. This is mostly an inevitable fall-out of advances in Media – its breadth leads some of its participants to stoop (competition, anyone?); and penetration allows its variegated output to become inescapable reality.

In the Indian context, media omnipresence has been inherent ever since one Pappu (Prince actually) fell down a tube-well and the nation woke up to Reality TV. Yet, its extent struck me this week when asked for my opinion on the ludicrous Shoaib-Sania tamasha over a meal with some office colleagues. Granted that a non-event like this must have an audience in TRP targets somewhere in our Great Unwashed, that it could wing it to more pretentious dinner table conversations is a potent reminder of how much of an equalizer TV has become.

At another level, other observations in the episode (soap opera, if you like) may interest the anthropologically inclined. One of these is clearly why so much collective consciousness need have been expended on this tragicomedy. Mind you, this is not elitist rant. One merely finds it difficult to turn from the fact (even for her most ardent fans) of Ms Mirza’s athletic prowess being decidedly higher on glamour quotient than sporting achievement. In fact, despite superior professional history, that it is Lee-Hesh’s occasional romantic dalliances or (not so occasional) fratricidal strife which has consumed more newsprint, buttresses the argument. Follow this line of reasoning and one can hypothesize that, culturally, embarrassing scrutiny is anathema to Indian culture. We revel in demi-god status for those with more immodest track records in any walk of life. In fact, but for moviedom (where controversy may well be courted in the name of publicity), we have mostly shunned discussions even remotely suggestive of human frailties of our icons.

Another distasteful (if not downright dangerous) facet of the media onslaught is the bevy of armchair experts only too happy to turn it into TRP-rich Indo-Pak confrontation. Neighbourly engagements in most part of the world are reasonably complex. Yet, ours with the failed westerly state is special even in these terms. With a few wars fought, not to forget an ongoing proxy one, and Terrorism, Kashmir, Nuclear Proliferation etc to queer the pitch, the last we need is trivial nonsense to whip up jingoistic frenzy. That more of this despicable posturing Shoaib & Co’s antics (or across the LOC in general) is immaterial. Some serious soul-searching is in order if India is not large-hearted and confident enough to dismiss such frivolity with the contempt it deserves. (Equally who cares what flag adorns Sania’s epaulette given the flimsy chances of her making it to the podium!)

Similarly trifling has been the attempt by some to use this occasion for characteristic Islam bashing. There may well be merit in debating Muslim Personal Law in India – standalone, or in insights vis-à-vis Shariat-governed Pakistan (or Turkey, or Indonesia) – but an important, complex social issue is sadly trivialized to link it with Ayesha’s marital status. Crucial debates on woman’s rights, legitimacy of telephonic nikah, polygamy etc make for little resolution with virtually administered polygraph tests for Shoaib Malik or Chand Mohammed’s sleeping arrangements. Such sensationalism loses us the battle – and the war is already lost.

Perhaps most enduring though, is an incumbent need for introspection in our media moguls (or at least their electronic brood). Fourth Estate is vital to a vibrant democracy but an overdose of the inane is a sad abuse of its reach. It is truly beyond me as to who and how decides that the attention of the entire nation needs be converged on Sania’s break-up with Sohrab, her choice of Shoaib, Ayesha’s copious (and credulous?) tears, and so on – across news channels and without break.

Extend the argument and ravings of assorted fanatics or pronouncements of perennially affixed (the same set is sought, and has pithily TRP-arousing views irrespective of topic) experts are all media-created monsters (raise your hands if you see less of Shri Laloo Prasad now that he has 4 seats vs 30 – and he has some popular support at least) under the sham of good copy. This circus, together with the adultery-rebirth obsessed tearjerker ‘general entertainment’ fare, makes one wonder which channels the media barons’ children watch. Cover it by all means, but for god’s sake, give us some choice!

Else let us all retire to watch Discovery Travel & Living…

A Follow On Inning

For a prolonged period in the Nineties the powder train of India's growth story provided a discernible fillip to equity values, including a booming primary market. To boot, some aggressive issue pricing meant even neophyte investors made a fairly consistent killing through a buy-IPO-sell-listing strategy. It was too good to last, and the market eventually turned a great leveler as it must. Some hangover of those glory days still seems to pull the retail investor (sample the now-thankfully-dear-departed 'MF IPO' mela) to this day though.

As it turned out, in this happy period, my college pocket money was hardly enough to afford any investible surplus. The result naturally was that my initial flirtations with stock-picking missed any skew from the confident swagger of tenderfoot success, nor adventure from lure of lucre. Learning the hard way (and armed with pearls from two notable masters: Messrs Buffet and Lynch) my confidence gradually crept up at least enough to venture my opinion on the table. And when for a few years in a row my portfolio reflected better returns on direct equity investments vs the Sensex (or those via the Fund route) the tendency to play to gallery won me to freely dispense stock advice!

Unfortunately, of late, my acquaintance grew with that familiar spoilsport: Time (or the lack of it). Consequently, most of my theories were tested vicariously - and though the results were not discouraging, the discipline to tend better to my portfolio was found wanting. It is in this backdrop (and to the accompanying bugle calls from a generally bullish market) that NTPC announced its mega FPO. Persisting with the axiom of my stock-picking being based on more mature considerations, here's how the issue stacked up:

• NTPC easily stood out as the largest Indian power utility, with reasonable historical revenue/ profit track record and operating efficiency in load/ availability factor terms
• The firm boasted of a healthy topline growth with plans to ramp up capacity by ~10K MW (over a third), assuming execution on track and equipment delays/ risks in control (Also important given its somewhat sub-optimal debt-equity ratio, affording scope for putting more equity to use)
• Significantly it was an infrastructure major with very low liquidity pressure atypical of the long gestation in the sector; and a comfortable funding position (~INR 17.5K Cr in cash alone) that weighed on its ROE as much as providing opportunity for backward integration
• Raw material pipeline was steady - a new 20 yr coal supply agreement with Coal India for 12 of its existing 15 units would get supplemented with captive coal mines and KG basic gas expected to kick in over next 2 years. Possible overseas mines acquisitions (hydro projects remain a concern) would provide increased flexibility. There was also strong partnership potential in 2000 MW nuclear power JV and ventures with BHEL and Bharat Forge to manage engineering and equipment needs
• Potential upside existed from sectoral deregulation, specifically unallocated power sale boosting returns or short term power trading (#2 player) and 3P modernization/ life extension practice

Yet, for the retail investor, the icing on the cake could only come from a price play. Indeed, it was key to whether the issue would draw more than institutional interest. The latter, some argued, would get committed any ways, a volume player being inelastic to entry point in view of the overall mood and potential. Given the value-unlocking protestations in UPA 2.0 policy (disinvestment being no more a dirty word at the very least) it was critical for the floor to be suitably defined so as to set the right tone for the aam aadmi investor.

Unfortunately, by any reasonable yardstick, the pricing and the issue came up short, saved the blushes only through 'motivated' subscription from SBI, LIC and other PSU players. The drama in the FPO (and my own prurient interest) were in itself well served by a simplified version of this script (rob Peter to pay Paul etc) but the back-room shenanigans transcended the staid approach the Govt and its hired guns usually adopt in such situations. In fact, far from commonly held misgivings on price, PSU entities actually bid at the high end, much higher than the floor price or the market - and that when FII interest was almost nonexistent! Extending the line, we had a series of seemingly unorchestrated sound-bytes (Goebbelsian devices that would have done any crafty market manipulator proud - case in point: Reliance Power) hinting at bear cartels that had been at work to drive price below its 'natural' 230 levels! And if any argument were left to be had, one merely had to look at the complete absence of commitment from NTPC employees. They knew!

In short, the promoter, the Govt of India, obviously needed the money - and as appears in retrospect, badly enough to brazenly flirt with the grey in an unprecedented manner. At the same time, it must be pointed out that such insidious conveyances could be but a short term tactic. Over the course of what promises to be a long summer, Fin Min mandarins would do well to imbibe better appreciation of their much professed principles of policymaking like public sector ownership by the public! Not only is the capital requirement in the current Grand Sale of PSU family silver way too high to afford being limited to incestuous bargains, but there is real fiduciary merit in spreading the spoils over a larger investor base. To boot, there may well be electoral arithmetic benefit in promoting an aam aadmi (or middle class, at the very least) lilt in any future auctions (even if at the cost of a marginal discount).

For now though the NTPC FPO kissa does leave more questions than it does answers, such has been the Government's conduct. And one thought the ignominy in a follow on was restricted to cricket!

Ode in Time of Crisis

Looking back the last few months, it is impossible to miss a humbling feeling of being amidst epochal events. Personally, last September was a heady high, a celebration of creation that rendered me well nigh unequal to the task of putting it to words! Time has flown since, each day a nouvelle discovery of wondrous joys, yet occasionally tinged with an undefinable sense of vulnerability. In my thirty-some years on the Planet, this pallete of emotions is sans parallel: cheer and blessing, joie de vivre, if ever!

The world, on the other hand, has been seized with circumstances of a lot less happy nature, best epitomized by episodes a year older. With the global financial system at its epicenter, an unprecedented and unrelenting series of economic upheavals have challenged life as we know it. Without getting into inordinate details of these trying times, suffice it to say that no walk of life nor section of society has been left untouched. Moreover, at least in some cases, things will never be the same again. Equally, though the worst is likely behind us, we are not fully out of the doghouse yet. It is clear that the speed, quality and sustainability of recovery depend on our generation's ability to rebuild the economic edifice. This effort must incorporate lessons from the current turmoil. Likewise, it is incumbent on us to have a sense of urgency lest the events and their aftermath fade from proverbially short public memory post recovery.

So what should constitute the bulwark of the Reset Economy? At the heart of reform must be a robust financial system that can not merely withstand future shock but proactively alert us to impending danger going forward. In fact the latter, curiously and completely missing in the run-up to the Lehman collapse or the events that followed, is the critical test for any proposed structural change. Unfortunately, at least for now, our response appears to me as coming up short. As a first step therefore, let me try and outline today a broad agenda, hoping to see the rest fleshed out in the New Year. (That which springs eternal in the human breast only magnifies early in a new year also a new decade, and when penning one's return blog after an interregnum!)

Firstly, we must recognize the character of the current downturn. Like someone put it, the crisis was a lethal combination of Market turmoil that eventually turned a Banking crisis and finally led to broader Economic consequences. Obviously such a debacle puts into the dock governments, central banks, regulators, banks/ lending institutions as well as corporates. It points directly to lack of coordination between these players, and piecemeal or inadequate appreciation of crisis drivers. Thus, a harmonized non-fragmented response and review is critical to future success.

Next we have the extent of the crisis and the pace of its transmission. For the malaise to spread like it did, the key ingredient was the interconnectedness of financial systems worldwide. This network is directly linked to ever increasing Globalization of world economy; and aided by rapid advances in Information and Communications Technology. In tandem, these ensure an all time high factor mobility, making the butterfly-in-China-shapes-NYC-weather connectedness an extant reality than mere Chaos Theory shibboleth.

Does this mean we turn contrarian to the forces of Globalization? One would think not. Not only is this fungibility not easily reversible, there are clear benefits the world has derived from them. This holds true for Technology too. In fact even contemplating any (even if theoretical) reversal effort suggests a need for a lot more calibration than the opposite - a coordinated global effort at crisis-corrective actions. Hence the near-consensus currently seen in implementation of near term solutions must stay the course for the longer term root cause fixes. With the plethora of stakeholders involved (and assuming you agree with me on the low feasibility for an outside observer to grasp its nuances), governments the world over have the primary onus to navigate through the intricacies of (micro and macro) prudential and accounting policies.

The logical extension to this argument is that we cannot let our focus waver even on exit strategies for the short-medium term policy and market interventions. Harmonizing these globally may be a tougher ask despite broad unanimity on its goals - sustaining the nascent recovery, maintaining financial stability and protecting a global level playing field. Policymakers would do well to use risk of unintended consequences as the touchstone for their formulations than unidimensional desired results. For instance, instead of getting swept off the feet by the obvious, namely increasing capital standards, consequences like drop in capital availability and inefficiency in the banking system, must be factored. (Interestingly, subprime mortage, now such a dirty word, was the output of one such political agenda, namely incentivization of housing ownership, where side-effects were not considered!)

Looking into 2010, the ball, as it does for most largescale change initiatives, is in the court of the Political kind (bureaucracy included by definition, for simplicity). The stakes are enormous, probably never bigger. Is the species up to it?