Coffee Table Book on M.R.S.Fort Punjab Police Academy, Phillaur

Dear Mr Gill,

I am delighted to receive the copy of the first ever coffee table book on Maharaja Ranjit Singh Fort - Punjab Police Academy, Phillaur (Punjab),  that you so kindly sent me with your covering personal letter vide D.O. No.256/PA/D dt 18 Feb 2010.

I was puzzled at first, wondering what was my "invaluable contribution" in preparing the book - for I had no clue before I received the book, that the chapter from my book "The Other Side of Policing" covering my days at Phillaur had been used in this coffee table book. I am honoured that you considered it worthy for reproduction in the Police Academy's publication of great significance and historical relevance!

Coming to the BOOK, I must compliment you and your team of officers responsible for this endeavour - for conceptualizing, editing and executing this work. without in any manner compromising on the highest standards required for such a publication; and for producing a collector's dream worthy of a connoisseur.

A minor suggestion to your editorial team though, not to succomb while lifting/ reproducing - to the often irresistable temptation to alter/ edit/ or correct the author's original text ...for it often tends to mutilate or distort, or even change the meaning or context completely -- more often than not to the utter dismay and annoyance of the author! I noticed some such aberrations in the reproduced text of "Qila ka Damad" (one of them... the word 'ilk' meaninglessly changed to 'ilaka'). Also, that basic courtesy demands the author and the publisher be informed/ apprised in advance about the use of their work elsewhere... when it is without observance of the etiquette/ norms/ formalities in the prescribed rules of publishing. I hope you don't mind me pointing this out.

Not withstanding the above, it will be my pleasure to recommend this publication to my colleagues within and without the department, and to my friends circle.
I wish the coffee table book great success.

Congratulations to you once again!

With warm personal regards,
Maxwell

--
Maxwell Pereira IPS (Retd.)
3725 Sector-23, Gurgaon-122017
9871263322

Time Magazine Quote on Sachin Tendulkar

Wednesday 24 Mar 2010 05:49:11 +0000
"Morning Inspiration"
TIME Magazine -
When Sachin Tendulkar travelled to Pakistan to face one of the finest bowling attacks ever assembled in cricket, Michael Schumacher was yet to race a F1 car, Lance Armstrong had never been to the Tour de France, Diego Maradona was still the captain of a world champion Argentina team, Pete Sampras had never won a Grand Slam.
When Tendulkar embarked on a glorious career taming Imran and company, Roger Federer was a name unheard of; Lionel Messi was in his nappies, Usain Bolt was an unknown kid in the Jamaican backwaters.
The Berlin Wall was still intact, USSR was one big, big country, Dr Manmohan Singh was yet to "open" the Nehruvian economy.
It seems while Time was having its toll on every individual on the face of this planet, it excused one man. Time stands frozen in front of Sachin Tendulkar.
"We have had champions, we have had legends, but we have never had another Sachin Tendulkar and we never will."

The Genesis Code - by John Case

Is “The Genesis Code” by John Case
really “….impeccable in plot, immaculate in story resolution, moving with high skill from locale to locale and from suspense to suspense”?
Why then does the book’s main character appear naiive enough to invite on himself expected harm to his own self and body, which miraculously he appears in the book time and again to be able to endure like no normal human can;
and more particularly, why does he carry the letter with the so mysterious and secret answer to the entire plot… in the pocket of his jacket through the entire latter half of the book without opening it –
till it is convenient to the author to end his story in a damp squib fashion?
I suppose fans of this book have all the answers!

Don’t shoot the messenger

.....I received this one as a forward in the email circuit from one of my friends. Contrary to the author's fears at the prospect of having to brace himself for a volley of abuse, it is bouquettes that I post here to compliment his candour and articulation of everything that every sane Indian wants to say --- has and holds in his mind, disgustingly and frustratingly critical of our so transparent shortcomings....
Kudos to Irfan Hussain for this piece of his in Pakistan's 'Dawn" newspaper...
Maxwell


Don't shoot the messenger

By Irfan Husain

Every now and then, I get an email from one irate Indian reader or another, demanding to know why Jawed Naqvi, Dawn's erudite and irreverent New Delhi correspondent, is so critical of India. Invariably, I reply that they should ask Jawed about his views. I also point out that just as I am often critical about Pakistan, he has every right to point out his country's shortcomings.

I suspect what upsets these readers is that an Indian should be voicing critical comments about his country in a foreign newspaper. I was subjected to similar censure from expatriate Pakistanis when I wrote for a Gulf daily. Finally, the editor told me politely that my criticism of Musharraf was incompatible with his paper's policy, and that was the end of the (small) trickle of Dubai dirhams.

The reality is that we are all touchy about seeing our dirty linen washed in public, but somehow, Indians seem super-sensitive to any hint of criticism. While there are many dissenting voices that question Indian claims to having reached Nirvana, they do not find much space in the mainstream media. Although Indian journalists do excellent work in digging up scams and scandals, they do not often question the broad consensus underpinning the 'India shining' image the media, politicians and big business work so hard at projecting.

I spent the other evening at the Karachi Boat Club in the company of a European who has spent a long time in the region, and knows South Asia well, having lived in Pakistan and India for several years. When I asked him how it felt to be back in Pakistan after being away for a few years in New Delhi, his answer came as a surprise. As we have known each other for fifteen years, he had no need to be polite: "It feels great to be back," he replied. "You have no idea how difficult day-to-day life is in New Delhi. Apart from the awful traffic, the pollution, and the expense, you have to put up with the prickliness of most Indians you meet. They are touchy to the point of paranoia. There is a lot of very aggressive poverty in the air. And when the New Delhi airport opens, we'll have to brace ourselves for yet another self-congratulatory blast. What is truly shocking is how little the well-off Indians care about the poor."

"Here in Pakistan, people are so much more laid back. Karachi's traffic flows much faster, and I don't sense the same kind of anger. While I'm sure there must be slums, I do not see the same level of abject poverty that is ever-present in India. And of course, the food is much better here."

I suspect this last observation will provoke more ire among my Indian readers than anything else my friend said. The truth is that meat dishes cooked in Pakistan are better than in India, although vegetables there are far tastier than ours. However, this article is not about scoring points, but about the different ways in which we react to criticism. It is also about the myth and the reality underlying the Indian success story.

And before my inbox is flooded with angry emails from across the border and the Indian diaspora, let me say that I am delighted at the huge strides our neighbour has made over the last decade or so. From cricket to technology, the progress has been little short of spectacular. I was thrilled to learn of the discovery of water on the moon by an Indian space mission.

So clearly, Indians have much to be proud of. Nevertheless, there is a dark side to this progress, and one that is ignored by those who react angrily to any criticism. In a recent article reflecting on his recently concluded six-year stint as the Guardian correspondent in India, Randeep Ramesh writes: "Whether I was visiting a rural police station where half-naked men were hung from the ceiling during an interrogation, or talking to the parents of a baby bulldozed to death during a slum clearance, the romance of India's idealism was undone by its awful daily reality. The venality, mediocrity and indiscipline of its ruling class would be comical but for the fact that politicians appeared incapable of doing anything for the 836 million people who live on 25 pence [33 Pakistani rupees] a day.

"… India is perhaps the most unequal country on the planet, with a tiny elite engorged on the best education, biggest landholdings, and largest incomes. Those born on the bottom rungs of the social hierarchy suffer a legacy of caste bigotry, rural servitude and class discrimination…"

Many of these painful observations apply to Pakistan as well, but by and large, we accept these flaws, and do not react angrily when a foreigner points them out.

The current issue of The Economist carries a searing cover story about the shameful phenomenon of millions of aborted female foetuses, mainly in China and India. This has caused the male-female ratio to be skewed to an alarming extent. The number of male babies in India is now around 108 for 100 girls, raising the possibility of serious social consequences.

Indian civil society is acutely aware of these grave social issues, and many of its members have long been demanding change. However, their voices are often drowned out by the chorus of those shouting 'India shining'. Many activists have distinguished themselves by their heroic advocacy of the downtrodden, but it is the success stories of dotcom entrepreneurs that are in the spotlight.

India's soft power is a potent instrument of projecting the country's image abroad. Its brilliant software engineers, its talented scientists, its outstanding cricketers, and its artists are all wonderful ambassadors for India. Bollywood and India's appeal to millions of tourists have put the country firmly on the map as a highly desirable destination.

All in all, as I said earlier, Indians have much to be proud of. But by focusing only on their country's achievements, the danger is that they will lose sight of the huge problems that still exist. Friends who point out these failings do not do so out of a sense of malice, but out of concern. However, as I brace myself for a volley of abuse, I fear that it's often easier to shoot the messenger than to undertake the hard work needed to address the problems.