Surveying the local skyline, such as it is, from atop my favourite local pedestrian railway bridge, one thing is clear: smokestacks are hot.

Looking southeast towards the Yamuna, I can see a variety of official buildings: the University Grants Commission (UGC), the Indian National Science Academy (INSA), the police headquarters and its neighbour the CPWD building, the DDA’s Vikas Minar, the Engineers India building, a slice of the Indira Gandhi Indoor Stadium, the glass-box office building Metro added to its Pragati Maidan station, Indraprastha Power Station, and so on.

Not one is a pleasure to behold, from the childish, blocky INSA to the ridiculous olive-green PHQ (crowned with a fuzz of antennae like some giant bread fungus) and the scabrous DDA tower. Yuck.

But in the interstices of all this urban blight are a few pure and soaring forms which lighten the heart and thrill the eye. They are: smokestacks and electricity pylons.

In the evening each chimney wears a crown of diabolical slow-blinking red lights, and its head trails a long smoky mane. If the gray tresses tumble away towards the east you know that the wind is blowing in from Rajasthan and it’s going to stay hot tonight. If the heavy curls trace westward, however, you can hope that the Uttaranchali breeze will trim the temperature and ease your sleep — and indeed, the air will already be cooler upon your face.

Meanwhile, behind DDA and Metro the pylons lift their patient shoulders and march away towards East Delhi. Their burden originates from the Coruscant-like jumble of shiny metal and tubing that is IP power station, which stands out against the gray of atmosphere and building and the dusty green of treetops.

Given the opportunity to produce important and long-lasting public buildings in the ITO region — one of the civic cores of Delhi — every one of these architects (PWD or private) has instead made a monster. Unwittingly, these foolish buildings embody the flaws rather than the best purposes of their institutional residents, and make those flaws permanent.

But mere engineers, obeying mainly the rules of utility and rationality, have created functional artifacts which achieve nobility in every element.

Where the big institutional buildings confuse, alienate and disorient, the smokestacks and pylons sharpen the mind by making sense, and the eye by being simple yet iconic in form. Gone is the 1920s-60s notion of buildings as sculptural elements in a rational landscape, which at least produced visually arresting and intellectually provocative results.

Think of big, concrete structures like Chanakya cinema, the STC building, the NDMC tower, and many more which, even if they are not beautiful, are like the smokestack or pylon in that they have a distinct form that is related to their practical or propaganda purpose and does not aim to disguise it. Now, on the other hand, most architects seem to forget the big picture and just give us agglomerations of small units, in which the whole never rises above its parts.

I think this “architecture by numbers” leaves us consumer-citizens oppressed and stunned by all the untended, infernal variety. That used to be what intelligent architects did in big civic projects — consciously distill and represent our civic self to ourselves. Now they do it without thinking, and the result is both sad and revealing.

I have always had an enormous amount of respect for former Pakistan cricket captain Imran Khan. He was a born fighter, a fantastic and courageous leader of men, and had an on field attitude which was unparalleled. He fought tooth and nail for every inch and even though he some might say that he wasn’t supremely talented, he is arguably one of the finest cricketers of all time. Why am I suddenly talking about Imran? Well, this week, I thought Imran pulled out a perfect in-swinger from his repertoire of deliveries, albeit off the field. He said that T20 cricket is more of Tullebaazi (read chance cricket) where one doesn’t need too much planning and it’s more about luck and taking chances. To be fair, he also said that he was happy that people were flocking to see so many people turning out to watch Tullebaazi.

What’s even more interesting is the fact the current Pakistan skipper Younis Khan came in for a lot of flak when he came out and said that he would be disappointed if his team gets knocked out of the T20 world cup but won’t take it too seriously as he equated T20 with “fun cricket”. Even Sachin Tendulkar in a recent interview had said that he likes T20 but it shouldn’t be played at the cost of test cricket being affected. Chris Gayle has already said something on the lines that Test cricket is boring and he prefers the more “fun” format.

Since I wasn’t around at the time One Day Internationals were introduced back in the early 70’s, I am sure that similar doubts must have been raised. Resistance to change is always very strong when it comes to cricket - both for the players as well as fans. But T20, at least to my dislike is rapidly incorporating too many changes. I read somewhere that the ICC is mulling over the concept of an ‘Eighter’. Already the concept of maidens seem to be history in the scorecard, with dot balls column replacing the good old maiden. Sixers are called maxium (prefix a brand name of your choice) before it. And strategy breaks were seen at IPL 2.0 to please the advertisers.

Although the biggest joke, and yes it was a joke only, had to be last week’s New Zealand-Scotland World Cup match which was reduced to 7-overs-a-side. Yes, 7 overs! I mean, for heaven’s sake, we all have played much longer matches in our gullys while growing up. How does a captain motivate his team for such a match? How does a batsman plan his innings? How does a bowler execute his plans for different batsman? Of course, that match could very well be a one-off and I might be reading too much into it. But seriously, the men running the show, need to understand that a fan is not devoid of cricket to such an extent, that he will watch a ridiculously shortened game! He might watch it, but deep down he will find it absolutely cringeworthy.

I, for one, definitely don’t believe that T20 would put the nail in test cricket’s coffin. As a sports fan, I am not too worried about that. What worries me most is, in fact, other factors such as lack of quality players, the current state of cricket in traditional powerhouses like Pakistan and West Indies, and most importantly, extremely flat and placid pitches all over the world.

Please give us back a bouncy Perth pitch, where batsmen actually fret before taking guard. Or the Sabina Park of old, where you knew that you were in for some serious business. If the authorities don’t wake up and do something about these things then that day won’t be far, when Tullebaazi will replace Ballebaazi!

Apple has just made my life a bit more difficult. I love my Apple iPhone 3G (even with all the drawbacks that I have pointed out here). But Apple’s latest upgrade is so beguiling that I want to make the switch to the new iPhone 3Gs (where S stands for speed).

But I am happy to note that iPhone OS 3.0 software will be available on June 17 as a free software update via iTunes 8.2 or later for all iPhone customers. And that includes me! The iPod Touch customers will be able to purchase a software update for £5.99 (inclusive of VAT).

When do we get the new iPhone 3Gs in India?

Take a guess – the UK customers are getting the new iPhone on June 19, it’s anyone’s guess as to when India gets its iPhone 3Gs and more importantly at what cost (the basic iPhone 3G model has been down priced to $99 from $199).

Even if we are a less than lakh Apple iPhone 3G users in India, the company has sold more than 20 million iPhones in the past few years. And if the prices come down further (present pricing starts at Rs 29,000), then new users are bound to join the Apple family. Even the analysts conceded that price cut in iPhone 3G tag would make the market more challenging for rivals. A price cut on the original iPhone device to $199 from $399 in June 2008 doubled the demand. Why should that not happen now?

Why wait for iPhone 3Gs?

Having reviewed almost every phone (smartphone and PDA), I do take the liberty to attribute myself with some knowledge about smartphones and the processing speed they deliver. By far, Apple iPhone 3G has been the smoothest touchscreen I have operated and even at dodgy GPRS signals, it loads a web page comfortably. BlackBerry models, too have similar speeds but there’s a certain novelty (and also ease to scroll through pages) in browsing the web on a touchscreen.

And what’s new in 3Gs?

There’s the faster processor at the heart of the new iPhone and that’s half the battle won. It also includes new 3D graphics support in hardware – that translates to faster and more complicated 3D games on iPhone.

On the software side, the new iPhone OS 3.0 software will bring in features including — Cut, Copy and Paste; MMS; Spotlight Search to search across iPhone or within Mail, Contacts, Calendar and iPod; landscape keyboard for Mail, Messages, Notes and Safari (Apple’s browser) and the ability to capture and send audio recordings on the go with the new Voice Memo app. iPhone 3.0 software also includes a new Find My iPhone feature that works together with Apple’s MobileMe application so that you can locate your lost iPhone on a map, send a message that will appear on the screen or play a sound to help you find it even if your phone is set to silent. If you cannot find your iPhone, you can erase all data and content on your iPhone with the new Remote Wipe feature.

The iPhone 3Gs has a new 3 megapixel autofocus camera and it also allows sending photos and videos by email, MMS or you can directly post to YouTube.

It remains to be seen how Nokia, BlackBerry and off late Samsung too, will battle it out with Apple’s latest warhead.

Babumon, the roommate from university who I always called “the mad guy”, called on me while in the city to organise an art exhibition on behalf of a Lalit Kala Academy. I refer to him as my guru, at least in appreciating art forms (including music, movies etc). He had taught me to appreciate Picasso’s ‘Guernica’ for instance or for that matter ‘Les Demoiselles d’Avignon’.

How is ‘Modigliani’ pronounced, I learnt from him.

He never called himself a Cubist, but wouldn’t mind if someone else called him so.

He tried his hand at trying to infuse some aesthetic sense into someone whose sense of beauty was not up to the mark for him. He tried introducing me to Cubism and the underlying philosophies.

He didn’t think money was necessary. But thought art was all, and that sky was the roof. But now, he had learnt the wordly ways forced by circumstances. Market forces had smartened him.

He explained post-modernism and, the post-modern artists and their works. But, I could never traverse the fourth dimension — which is time. I was probably too caught up in the present to be able to enter the fourth dimension.

After his masters in fine arts, which he did just for an opportunity to work with an artist he admired, he took to farming hoping to paint in all peace and quiet in a village away from the madding crowds.

But, alas, the vagaries of the weather and the wildlife (mostly elephants) dashed his hopes. Pure economics took over. He realised, his revenues did not match his expenditure. Many a times he had to face losses. Also, the paint/pastels and canvas or paper too cost him a lot. Instead of falling into the hands of money lenders, he became a teacher.

He had a girlfriend of eight years and decided to get married. Now he was forced to step into the real world. He had to run a family and he has landed a job with Lalit Kala Academy. With that vanished his opportunities to paint.

I still get to interact with painters and other artists, he insists. But, says, he misses painting by himself because he has no time. He takes a few weeks together sometimes to complete a work.

If the government has its way, in three years, you have will have another card to boast of – a unique national identity card.

Already, the government allows the use of passport, PAN card, voter’s ID card, ration card and driving licence as valid identification proofs. Thanks to the new pension scheme there is another card – the Permanent Retirement Account Number (PRAN) – though it is not a valid ID proof at the moment.

So, what do you produce when someone wants to check your identity? If past experience is anything to go by, the list of possible cards for identity proof will only get longer.

Making the unique identification number the only ID proof does not look possible in three years given the chances of creating a political uproar. Besides, the government has been rather inefficient in issuing cards such as the voter’s ID. Even now the entire voting population is not covered. Many among the lucky ones have cards where the details are wrongly entered and getting it rectified is a nightmare.

But what it will mean is that I can get away with having five different addresses since there is no common database with the government to cross-check the information that I provide. For instance, the address on my passport can be different the one on the PAN card. Similarly, the voter’s ID can have a third address and the address on the driving licence can be the same as the one I gave 15 years ago.

Given the difficulties in obtaining each of the IDs — barring PAN, where issuance has now been simplified, and PRAN – many of us dread the thought of getting the details changed whenever we shift homes.

So, how does it help? In the long run, the idea is to shift to one identification number. But how long is the long run is anybody’s guess.

What it does mean is that there is plenty of business for companies that are in the business of making cards. Apart from the national ID, the government is also working on a biometric PAN card where seven companies have been shortlisted and each one would tell you that the other one does not have the experience in issuing cards and certainly not on the scale that is required.
Maybe, it’s time that a central database is created and all the cards are combined into one. It will not only be easier for us to carry but also for the authorities once the scheme is implemented fully.

Apart from feelings of bitterness, hurt, disappointment and anger at Manchester United’s meek surrender of their Champions League crown, the other thing which was going through my head was “How will the next three months pass?” No football on weekends mean that the television for the next 80-odd days is a mere show piece for me than anything else.

I have never been fond of odd-number years, which is ironic since I was born in one and got married in one as well. But no international football tournaments mean that you are left twiddling your thumbs and waiting eagerly for the next season to start.

Which in-turn means, that I can’t say no to any of my wife’s humble demands (like a movie or dinner, and on very rare occasions a trip to some shopping mall). Neither can I say no to any social engagements as my wife after saying no to most of the weekend get-togethers for the rest of the year wants to make up for the lost time.

Summer, in even-numbered years, are much more fun since there is always an international tournament on every two years. If not the World Cup, then the European Championships are always there to fill the void.

Of course, apart from football, there is tennis to look forward to. French Open is already mid-way and without tempting fate, I think Roger Federer might just win the one that has eluded him so far. And very soon, Wimbledon shall be here as well and the voice in my head keeps on saying that Federer would avenge last year’s defeat. Though I harboured the same hope for the French Open as well, but even that voice had a hearty laugh at the thought and asked me to stop daydreaming. This was till,  Rafael Nadal was still in the fray. That voice, surprisingly has gone quiet, even since Nadal was knocked out.

The T20 cricket World Cup starts next week as well but since I have a passing interest in T20, don’t think will watch any of it. Though the papers, TV channels, will come out all guns blazing to make it sound as if it is the biggest sporting extravaganza of the year. Speaking of cricket, even the Ashes, this time around, have failed to arouse much interest. The Australian team looks like a shadow its’ old self and England, in my opinion, will flatter to deceive yet again.

And on top off it, the on-going stand-off between multiplexes and movie producers mean that one can’t even go out to catch a movie as well. See, I told you, there is something about odd-numbered years that make sure that summer is longer than usual. Is it just me, or the weather is terrible this time around compared to last year?

The gory, frightening and distressful pictures of Indian students in Australia being brutally beaten up is a shameful and disgusting outcome of Indian universities’ inability to provide quality education and absorb discerning Indian students, compelling them to seek admission abroad and set the ball rolling for hurt and abuse.

It speaks of the sad development of human resources in our country that the best known institutes in India—the IIMs— do not figure anywhere in the world’s top 100 MBA schools (as per the FT’s rankings, the only Indian school to make the cut is ISB). There is an urgent need to revamp our entire education edifice so that we are in a position to create world-class universities of the highest standards.

In fact, education should be beyond the control of government authority and its concomitant rules and regulations. Even in the case of the IITs/IIMs, HRD ministers from Murli Manohar Joshi to Arjun Singh to now Kapil Sibal have seen much merit in pronouncing their views on what these institutes need to do, no sooner these ministers assumed power. That is hardly the way to go if one has autonomy as a desirable goal in mind.

Besides, there is much regional disparity when it comes to the quality of educational institutes in India. My city Gwalior has all sorts of institutes—engineering (both government-funded and private), medicine, graduate schools of arts—but their quality is so poor that no one passing out of them can hope to reach anywhere respectable on the dint of his/her  academic credentials.

If a university’s place in the rankings is determined by the quality of its teaching staff, why can’t the government work at establishing at least 10 world-class universities in each discipline and demand higher fees from students to run these places? The salaries that the university pays its staff will not be a constraint then. When people can mortgage their properties and what not to send their children abroad, there is no reason they would not pay a premium to let their wards attend an Indian school which had the likes of Noam Chomsky and Amartya Sen as guest faculty.

That would go some way in preventing students from studying in countries where they have no security of life or limb.

Before it gets better, it gets worse. The Delhi Metro promises that commuting in the capital will become better once it’s fully operational. Ha, that happy dream of life becoming better. Yesterday, on my way to an appointment in Haus Khas enclave, I drove down Aurbindo Marg, thinking that I would make it on time. Ha, the fallacy of that thought.

As I crusied down Aurbindo Marg, I realised that the U-turn was blocked, and that I had to take a compulsory left. One of the busiest raods in Delhi had been shut down for Metro  construction work without so much as by your leave and no one thought of putting up signs to guide motorists to take alternate routes.

As I fumed, thinking about how all this, I realised that I didn’t know how to get to my appointment. Then panic began to set in, wondering if I would find my way out of the traffic jam that I found myself stuck in. After wasting precious fuel, because of this circuitous route that I had been forced to take, I reached hot and bothered. In India, I am convinced, things always get worse before they get better.

With the auctioning of third generation (3G) and Broadband Wireless spectrums sometime during this year, we will reach closer to the dream where telephony and internet connectivity could become ubiquitous in rural areas. And everyone in our remote and scattered villages can access essential services such as distance education, health care and mainstream commerce.

With 3G, and introduction of mobile-commerce, a migrant in Mumbai can transfer money to his family living in a remote village via his mobile phone. This could also help him circumvent the eighteenth century postal network and generally uncooperative postal workers where a money transfer 100 kilometers away through an ordinary money order, even today could take more time then it would take him to deliver it in person, have lunch, and just have enough time left to catch up with old friends from the village school.

Much has been said about how technology creates a level playing field for everyone. We rarely spare a thought to how technology has saved us every time it seemed we would be sucked into the horrors faced by third world countries, when we had every ingredient necessary to invite such a catastrophe.

Needless to say that Internet saved us the trouble of developing world-class products and competing with international companies when the economy opened up in early nineties and we didn’t have the resources to make up for the lost time. Heck, it even saved us from the ignorance of our policy planners, when the decaying urban and industrial infrastructure could have choked whatever talent and entrepreneurial resilience we had left in the country.

Now Internet is even giving impetus to young Indian entrepreneurs who are setting up businesses online with shoestring budgets – even if the best they can come up with is selling cinema tickets, blog advertisements or chicken salads off the Internet.

However, we are still many years away from attaining first-world standards in numerous areas. Since technology has come to our aid every single time in the past, I am thinking how it can help us rid ourselves of ills that are holding us back. Here are a few ideas I have come up with. Technology innovators and patent usurpers, please take note.

Our education sector is in doldrums. Things have reached such a nadir that Kapil Sibal, the new HRD minister recently said that syllabuses of IITs and IIMs need to be changed and nobody raised an eyebrow. It is an accepted fact in the industry that a good number of graduates from our universities and institutes are unemployable. The quality of scientific research done locally is not much to speak about either.

Sundry columnists blame regulatory bodies like the UGC and AICTE and the Medical Council of India for not having been able to keep up with the rest of the world. However, anyone who has been brave enough to go through the rigmarole of our educational system knows where the real fault lies. It lies in the dispassionate way an average teacher takes to his profession. There are exceptions, of course, in urban areas or at top ranked universities. But I am talking about a general sense of apathy at all levels. A whole epic can be written about this issue and I will save it for some other time.

To come to the point, I have reasons to believe I have found the real reason. So I am looking for a way in which technology can turn disinterested teachers into passionate mentors, who would then mould the lives of all students as if their own lives depend on it.

The solution could lie in a technology that, for now, can be called the Progeny Projector (PP) technology. I see a future in which all classrooms in the country are fitted with Progeny Projectors. Here’s how they work: They are activated when a teacher enters a classroom, and the PPs emit three-dimensional image holograms that envelope every student in the class and make them appear like the teacher’s own children and their close cousins. Needless to say that nobody in our country messes up with anyone’s life where family is involved.

Then there is the more grim issue of malnourished children. Forty six per cent of children under the age of five are malnourished – over 2.4 million die every year due to malnourishment. All ideas have failed. Integrated Child Development Services (ICDS) and Midday meals haven’t made much of a dent. NREGS is new and it will take years to affect a total change — corruption has already found its way there. Thought leader Gurcharan Das talks about food stamps, but that may leave us with another problem – that of a malnourished bureaucracy in the countryside.

I have a solution for this issue as well. This technology is called KCS, which is short for Karma Cursing Sensory technology. Without a single exception, every Indian mother curses her Karma for all ills that befall her family, especially her children. We can have KCS devices installed in all our villages.

Whenever a child cries from hunger, the mother will curse her karma or destiny and the KCS devices would record the cursing frequency on an hourly basis. The sensors, in turn, could decide the karma of the local development officer appointed by the government entrusted to implement the myriad childcare schemes.

For example, 10 beeps could mean the officer loses his salary for a week. Fifty beeps could mean no deputation in Delhi and 100 beeps could ensure permanent posting for him in that area. More than 500 beeps would blow off the fuse of the generator that is supplying electricity to his house in a village that most certainly is devoid of power. Trust me, this would work like magic.

Another (and the final one, for the lack of space) social malaise for which I would like a disruptive technology, is: crime against women. Eve teasing is common on our streets, in railway compartments, outside colleges. Women are not safe inside houses either. Yesterday, the Supreme Court expressed concern that bride burning cases are on the rise. If eve teasers and molesters can’t get them, moral policemen most certainly will. All measures have seemingly failed.

However, I have ideated a disruptive force for this as well. It answers to the name of AMS, short for an Anti-Molester Suit. It is a no-brainer, actually. We are speaking of an ordinary jacket or a vest lined with electric wires on the outside, which in turn is connected to a small battery embedded in the jacket. The AMS can be fitted with an array of devices– a GPS device, a fish-eye camera, a high-decibel yeller, etc.

When a molester or a moral policeman approaches a woman, she can activate various AMS devices based on her threat perception. The high-decibel yeller could be her first line of defense. However, knowing how men react in our public places when women scream for help, this would not be of much use.

High-voltage electric wires would be most effective in such situations. Any type of indecent touching and the high-voltage electric shocks are activated that can render the assaulter sterile, temporarily or permanently, depending on the audacity of the act.

The suit will be fire-proof as well, and could smell kerosene or any flammable material from a distance and send calls for help, along with images of the scene for evidence, to the local police station, for instance. The possibilities are endless.

As I wrote earlier, I have disruptive ideas that can rid our country of all ills. Corruption; divisive politics; paucity of ideas, quality and originality in architecture and creative arts; poor infrastructure. You name it, I have a technology for it.

For someone whose idea of life outside India for the first thirty six and half years of his existence restricted to occasional corporate junkets with glimpses of airports and star hotels, the last six months in London as a resident has been a completely new experience. This is my short preface to five new and unique experiences I have had and I wish to share now. I assure dear reader, that none of this is profound and you should take this more than a mere scribble in my diary at your own peril.

#1 Tube Face
The indispensable London Underground seems to have one undesirable impact on its users. I am yet to meet a smiling face in the tube. People simply don’t smile when they get 24 meters (average depth of the tube) below the ground. My rotten arrogance surfaces once in a while and I try to break this by smiling at a stranger with a hope of setting a new record in the tube. The best response I have received so far is a nod that lasts no more than a nano-second.

#2 Ear-shattering blow
An average Londoner is a perfect gentleman/lady. There cannot be two opinions about this. Why then do they blow their noses so loudly in public places is something I am yet to understand. Take this literally. When a Londoner blows his nose, he ensures that people five meters on either side hear it. The saving grace is that he/she always, always uses a tissue.

#3 Week-end frenzy
Life during weekends, starting from Friday evening goes on the fifth gear. There is a manic planning that precedes this. What am I going to do this weekend is an essential question that every self-respecting Londoner seems to be asking himself. While the average answer to this is not very creative, it is just another harmless side of the simple-minded Englishman. Get ready to see miniature barbecue stoves on the balconies of garden-less apartments like the ones I live in!

#4 Beer and ale guzzlers
This my favourite. A pint of beer bang in the middle of the day? This is a futile question only a narrow-minded (and hypocritical) Indian like me can ask. I remember being petrified of being caught by my boss every time I had a beer with lunch when I was in Delhi. God knows how many cartons of “Centre Fresh” must have covered my darker side. Here and now is my chance to lead a guiltless life. You will be the odd one if you order your lunch without the beer. Cider for the ladies.

#5 Queue crazy
Actually this my real favourite. It almost seems like my English-speaking friends love to stand in the queue. Something tells me its part of their religion. Why else would there be so many queues all over London. From smallest roadside newstand to the plushest of plush malls have innumerable queues. The queues only seem to grow as the the shops add more tills. Just draw a yellow line with the words “stand behind this line” and you will have a dozen folks ready to fall in line. Memorize this one. It will save your life some day. I once walked up to a newstand which seemed deserted to buy a pack of cigarette. The vendor gave me a cold stare and then I heard a booming hello (not greeting definitely) behind me. A solitary customer apparently was waiting in the “queue”  for the vendor to say “next please.” I almost gave up smoking that day.

(Photo by S Kalyana Ramanathan)