Beyond Love

My life has been a sonata of myriad colors and memories, the notes filled with resonance and beauty, and the emotion that fills me, is so far beyond just love. Will a Valentine’s Day be enough capture a few of those gems from the story of my life so interlinked with that of so many loving souls? And yet this is as good a time to recognize some of those special people and special moments.

They were both so distinctly different. One the diplomat, the patient one, the other blunt, hot headed and dominant. And they both left a lasting imprint on my heart, my mind, my intellect-and my soul.

Can I capture again, in the palm of my hand, their faces, the lines deepening not just with laughter, but the years that gently embraced them. Those lines that recreated the past, the present and the future for me.

Can I again stop and remember, believing that the memories that come flooding back won’t find a reason to escape through the tears in my eyes?

They were not famous, and yet celebrating their lives today makes me realize the immeasurable wealth they poured into mine-years of unconditional love, of laughter, creating a world of magical stories, transporting me to worlds I never knew existed.

Savitri and Saraswati-my two grandmothers. They taught me so much about sacrifice, generosity of heart, immeasurable patience, their pride in being women of substance. One faced adversities at a young age, and raised six sons single handedly, in a way that would put many authorities on child rearing to shame. What Saraswati, my paternal grand mother, my daadi, a young widow, brought to the table was, to never let her sons forget to always be proud of themselves, to remember that they were lesser to none, and the true measure of their worth would be only when they stood in front of the mirror and liked what they saw. She taught them to be honorable, upright, disciplined and to give everything their best shot and to love each other more than anything else-and they do-to this day. There were days when she and her sons lived in a one room tenement after partition of India and Pakistan surviving on barley soup for days.

My daadi, lived to see all of them do well, and two of her sons became military generals; one the Governor of the state she lived in for the longest time. For her the wheel came a full circle when that son, the youngest child, came to the same spot where he sat so many years ago, as a little boy on a steel trunk outside a refugee camp not knowing what his fate would be-to cut a ribbon as the Governor of Punjab and it was her picture that the major newspaper in the state chose to splash across its front page. She lived to be a 104, lucid and alert and engaged in everything around her till the end.

Savitri, my maternal grandmother, was born in the lap of luxury, married a man who was brilliant and well to do but became a young widow like the other one. She was the greatest influence in my life. I spent all my summer vacations with her and when my father, a military man stayed away in remote areas, where his family could not be with him, my mom would come and stay with her. From my naani, I learnt to love books, from her I learnt to sing hymns, and pray to her favorite Gods. She loved Rama because to her he epitomized the perfect man. She frowned on Krishna, calling him a playboy. There was not a single picture of him in our house, though funnily she named one of her son Krishna and none Rama! Go figure.

She taught me to be proud of myself in a country that considered women second rate citizens. She was fearless, independent, hot headed and incredibly well read and sharp. She refused to live with any of her sons, preferring her own family home, where two of her sons decided to come and live with-her. Every night, she would tell me stories from Indian mythology, go watch Bollywood films with me that she didn’t like much, encourage me to read as many books as I could and told me I was her most special grandchild. I still remember how she would come running out, her long hair flowing on her back, when we would come to visit and spend our summer vacations in her home to give me the biggest hug. I remember the nights she stayed up scratching my back when I had measles and chicken pox and was itchy all over. I remember the fragrance of the many jasmine plants that enveloped us as we all pulled our beds outside on her huge lawn and all the grandkids slept around her as she regaled us with stories under a full moon.

She died when she was only 62 and I a young teenager, who wasn’t told about her death for days until after she was cremated. Years have passed and I still don’t have closure. I miss them both to this day and I hope some day I will be as cool a grandmother as they were.

My hero has always been my dad. I strive to be as classy, as smart, as honorable, and as giving as him-and I wish I was half as good looking, but I fall short by miles. Almost all my memories of my father are either of him spoiling me or of telling amazing stories to us, as my sister and I lay next to him completely riveted. Little did we know he would make them up on the spot. He is a man of few words, but each word has its weight in gold. He is one of the most perceptive, far sighted people I know. He has always been right about everything and while mom and I and others have grumbled when he has put his foot down about something, we have had to eat humble pie soon after because he was right-yet again!

Strangely all my memories of my father, a tough military man are that of being Mr. Mom. If I was sick, it was dad who stayed up all night and took my temperature, paced the floor till the fever broke, took time off from work, to play board games or cards with me, while mom was much more relaxed. He has such tremendous respect for women because his biggest role model was his mother and as a result he pampered my mother to the hilt as well, nurturing her talents and finding something to appreciate even in her flaws. And he is a tough act to follow.


My mom was and is a spoilt brat! She is the youngest of six siblings, so her dad spoilt her and then did her older brothers and sisters. She then got married into a family of six boys and my dad spoilt her. She does what she wants but has supported my dad and his going overboard with resigned disbelief at times, with pride at others, but even when they disagree they kinda like each other. Theirs is one of the best marriages that I have seen and I find it funny how when they complain about each other they start laughing and then forget what it was.

All my brothers and sisters, are incredibly special people. They have protected me, encouraged me, and watched over me. They have appreciated my achievements and lifted me up when I was down, letting me make my own mistakes. I realized how lucky I was much later when I saw even siblings by blood squabbling over property and money, with envy and jealousy rearing their ugly head. I always go home to my amazing family and extended family, and they put everything on the back burner to create a magical world of incessant laughter, amazing food, endless love, filling my suitcases with generous gifts till they creak at the seams.

With the exception of one amazing woman, Anees Jung, an amazing writer and human being- all my mentors have been outstanding men, starting with my brother Parvez. The rest have adopted me as their daughter, or kid sister, or close friend, showed me the way to excel and opened doors for me to walk in and prove myself and taken immense pride when I delivered without any expectations.

Most of the celebrities I have interviewed through the years have been very generous with their time, and sharing of themselves. Many have become close friends, and I have been inspired by their achievements, touched by their humility and their continued affection whenever we meet or interact.

But its some of the people like you and me, who I have interviewed, who have taught me some amazing lessons. One of my favorite people is a plastic surgeon Dr Satish Vyas in Michigan. His zest for life, his multi talented, multi-dimensional personality, his wicked sense of humor, kindness and compassion and infectious energy are qualities I remember to this day even though its been more than a couple of years since we met again. His lovely wife Kusum, the first woman he fell in love with and married is his perfect balance. Its so cool to see them together and the fact that they have been so lucky to have found each other so early on in life.

Dr Jagdish Sheth and his wife Madhu are community icons in Atlanta. Dr Sheth is a world renowned academician, but for me Madhu and he are everything stellar human beings should be. Their ability to give, their humility and their humanity is well known. I believe the true worth of a man or woman is to be judged by what people say about them behind their back, and by that token the Sheths are very special.

My close friends have been there for me for more than 2 decades and more. I’m still in touch with many of them who I have known since I was a toddler. They have been there with me through the best of times and the worst of times and the one thing that has been constant is their constancy. They know who they are and they know I cherish everyone of them.

I wrote this earlier, but I think it’s the greatest truth in my life and so I will say this again in the end.

Every experience in my life has taught me something. The good ones that there are so many miracles at every step, and so much goodness all around-and that it’s not just a matter of perception.

The bad ones have taught me that it is all a matter of perception. People are never bad, its circumstances, their own insecurities and issues that make them react in a negative way. I have never seen a happy person act mean or unkind.

My work transports me to a world that changes on a daily basis and I learn something new every single day. And I have met innumerable people that have inspired me and amazed me. I have learned that the human spirit at its best, can soar to heights you cannot even begin to imagine. It has taught me that the possibilities remain endless.

And so on this Valentine’s Day I salute every special soul who has crossed my path and added to my life.

The Audacity of Hope becomes Reality

Michelle Obama recalled in an interview that the first time she saw the name, she thought - what kind of a name is Barack Obama?

Little was she to know that 20 years later that name would be on the lips of the world and he will be remembered as the 44th and first African American president in history of the United States.

I remember reminiscing that the first time I laid eyes on the President, was at the 2004 Democratic Convention and I was totally mesmerized by his keynote address. I quickly ordered his book “Dreams from My Father” while people were still asking- Barack who? Since then it has been interesting to see how intelligently he fought his way to the top, utilizing technology, inspiring a younger generation to fight his fight and the dignity that he showed when things got ugly from time to time with below the belt ads, and political nastiness that becomes part and parcel of any campaign.

If there was anything that stood out throughout, other than his intelligence, it was his dignity, and a seeming sense of calm balance. Michelle who had said this would be his only run for President because they have had to sacrifice so much, has stood beside him. She is the other superb orator in the Obama household. And in spite of impeccable professional credentials she is secure within herself to focus on family. Its obvious in the way she supports her husband and she has done an amazing job of raising two really normal daughters; and while she talked about the strain this campaign had put from time to time on the family, at the end of the day, Obama won because she was behind him always.

I remember the day Obama clinched the nomination, it was so touching to see not just the pride in the eyes of the African American community, but the joy that seemed to envelop humanity at large. At that moment, it didn’t matter who you were-the color of your skin, your status quo, your religion, all faded away- and out went many personal prejudices and personal biases.

On inauguration day, January 20th 2009, that feeling returned multifold as more than a million people of all denominations, ethnicity stood together on a freezing day to be a part of history.

The District of Columbia outdid itself in terms of organizing the perfect inauguration, but it was the people of these United States of America who joined hands as one and symbolized unity in diversity-an image that often gets lost in a world full of strife and hostility. A vast sea of humanity, old and young, and not one disruption, not a single arrest-that is the gift inclusiveness brings.

It was almost embarrassing and a bit sad to see the lack of reception ex President George W Bush got as he made his solo entry to face the public in the inauguration stand. I have disagreed with a lot of his decisions but I have always admired a couple of things about George Bush-his immense, unstinted loyalty to those who are loyal to him, and the facts that he has always had the guts to stand by his decisions right or wrong, against all the backlash. And in a strange way he did display a quality that we often lack but admire in those who have them…self confidence. His final press conference with the Press, perhaps showed President Bush as he really is. He was as accessible, warm, and much more vulnerable than I have seen him. He was still in denial about a few things, but some how for the first time, I felt a twinge of empathy for him.



Jan 20th was really a blur of everything Obama. Some one jokingly said.. hey there is something like a hope hangover! But I think that day, filled a huge gaping hole in the deeply stricken hearts of Americans, who are weighed down by so much, a battered economy, unemployment, insolvency and foreclosures, depression and suicides.

The President and the first lady walked in like a ray of sunshine that bursts across the sky after a long, dark thunderstorm that has left destruction in its wake. And what’s really cool is that they seem so much like you and me.

I remember Oprah saying jokingly that he has always been Barack to everyone-he is so your guy next door..its going to be quite an effort on his part and theirs to step back and get used to calling him Mr. President.

In all the hoopla, there was this one moment, as he stood alone by himself for a few minutes waiting to be called out before he took the oath.. the camera panned on a face that was suddenly still, the eyes thoughtful and pensive and you felt that may be for those few seconds he felt the weight of all that he was about to assume along with the office. And then it was business as usual as he walked out, breaking into that infectious smile that is quite contagious.

I think if there is a moment for Barack Obama to cherish it is not the swearing in, and not the fact that an African American bi racial mutt as he jokingly called himself achieved the highest pinnacle of professional success, but the fact that he was enveloped in an embrace, a pulsating energy of love and acceptance across the barriers that separated the bodies but not the hearts that were beating as one in blessing him, supporting him and showering their love on a man whose sincerity, and balance has won over even his worst critics and political foes.

As the audacity of hope becomes a reality for Obama, my prayer is that we reach out and walk in step with not just him, but each other recreating a new path of what is best for humanity.

Mumbai Musings and talking terrorism

The past weeks since the terrorist attacks on Mumbai, have gone in round the clock interviews with people from India and Pakistan from different walks of life, talking to Dr Deepak Chopra, Pakistani cricketer politician Imran Khan, counter terrorism experts, UK businessman Sir Gulam Noon, who defied death for the fourth time when he escaped from the burning Taj in what seemed a miracle in just the way the events built up in his case and of course a cross section of people in India and Pakistan.

While you can read all the outstanding interviews and some other really thought provoking articles on my website (www.kavitachhibber.com) in the latest issue, I remember when the initial reportage came in, having read about the previous attacks, and the flooding that left Mumbai paralyzed and other similar attacks across India, I didn’t pay much attention to the headlines for a couple of hours, thinking it was indeed some gang war as the media was reporting; until my brother’s email that one of his close friends was missing on the 6th floor of the Taj came in and that his last contact with her was at 2 a.m. The friend was well known journalist Sabina Sehgal Saikia and sadly her body was found 2 days later. Just 10 days earlier, she had gone to Ustad Amjad Ali Khan’s house to gift her new book to his wife Subhalakshmi Khan, said the Sarod maestro to me as he was about to leave for her funeral.

Soon burning questions and a burning city captured the attention of both the national and international media. Never, said terrorism expert Dr Robert Friedmann to me, has he seen such prolonged international coverage for an attack in India-not just that, he had not even seen that kind of coverage when Benazir Bhutto was assassinated in what was a clear case of political terrorism.

As I called people from all over, to get their impressions, one thing emerged with crystal clear precision-while the political leaders in India jumped the gun and immediately started pointing fingers at Pakistan, the people of India were really angry with the breakdown of the political and intelligence system in their own country.

I saw a volcanic anger that I had not seen earlier when a breakdown of infrastructure has happened in any part of India.


While there were some people from the Indian and Pakistani community that sent inflammatory articles, emails and comments to my website, by and large the majority of Indians, no matter what their background, understood that there is a need to separate the state and the government from non state perpetrators of the crime. Most Indians also made the point that they have deep love for the people of Pakistan and recalled the unparalleled hospitality they have been offered every time they visit India. They also said that they realize the Pakistani government is too weak, being run with the blessings of the Military and that the country is now as much a victim of ingrown terrorism: but most Indians were adamant that they cannot excuse the apathy of the state in eliminating these terrorists or those members of the Pakistani government or ISI, that is training these terrorists.

On the Pakistani side, the memories of the ravaged Marriot in Islamabad still fresh in their minds, people were shocked and sympathetic at what happened in India. But that shock and sympathy turned into anger and defensive defiance when the blame game began. The media reporting from India was by and large a prime example of tabloid TV and yellow journalism and a blatant attempt at garnering the highest ratings. Even veteran journalists jumped in the fray-and many people turned into self appointed experts passing judgment, giving an analysis and jumping to all kinds of conclusions while the siege was still on, and little concrete information to base those opinions on.

The Pakistan bashing brought retaliation from Pakistani news media and many Pakistanis I spoke to in the first few days, told me they were convinced the terrorists were Hindus from RSS and BJP paid to create mayhem just before the elections. One told me that Geo TV had specifically conducted an investigation and that the lone captured terrorist wasn’t even from the village in Pakistan as claimed. All these presumptions of course have been refuted, and even more so when former Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif acknowledged that indeed the terrorist was Pakistani and his family has been isolated from everyone a few days ago in an interview.

Condoleezza Rice arrived and added fuel to the fire by jumping on the “blame Pakistan” wagon. Rice reprimanded the government like a school Principal scolding an errant child, instead of trying to cool tempers and act as a mediator, and as a representative of a global super power, that would in times such as these, be expected to want peace in the subcontinent and would work towards that-especially when the two countries are nuclear powers. And of course accept that US has to accept a lot of the blame for the current chaos in Afghanistan which has flowed into Pakistan.

But then the reason why a large part of the world, hates America, is because America, said Dr Deepak Chopra to me in a conversation-has only self interests and no allies or friends. He made a lot of sense when he said to me “Right now America’s interests are the World’s interests; our economic system, the economic melt down is telling us now that there is only one economy, the weather patterns are telling us that there is only one ecology; when are we going to learn that there is only one humanity?”

There were many discussions on global terrorism and its Islamic face. Imran Khan the cricketing legend and now the only Politician people of Pakistan and India respect, because of his honesty and integrity, said for the umpteenth time that terrorism has no religion-a sentiment shared by many across the board. He also added that the youngsters many of whom are university graduates, and from middle class families don’t even fit the stereotypical image of the so called Islamic terrorist with a beard. There is a lot more to learn why things are the way they are today.

The spirit of Mumbai was invoked by some, and dismissed by others who said every big city has a similar spirit, where people want to get back to normal, but what remained simmering was an anger at the political system that nurtures corruption and is caught napping again and again at times of need.

The good thing, said one interviewee is that the elite have been hit this time, and so those who fill the coffers of these politicians, especially the corporate head honchos are now taking a second look at security and terrorism. There are also lawsuits asking for regulation and a strong criticism of the way the media handled coverage, disclosing crucial and sensitive information, that may have caused the death of many in the two hotels as their location and how many security personnel was involved in counter attack came tumbling out on real time reporting.

There was a conciliatory email by Barkha Dutt, a journalist I used to admire once upon a time, but who has joined the ranks of tabloid reporters, where she said that the media reported only what was told to them. At no point were they briefed to keep things off record. While she has a point and this opens a new discussion on how to train the media and have a close relationship with it in case something of this nature occurs again-it does not take away from the disservice Dutt and similar veteran journalists like her have done. Someone with her experience, should instinctively know when crucial information if reported, can endanger the lives of others and not wait to be spoon fed by those in authority at what she should and should not say. Unfortunately, her apology came a bit too late and as a preventive measure because public opinion against her may make her head roll as well.

I would like to share some lines from 3 of the interviewees that sprung out at me when the interviews were being conducted.

Dr Deepak Chopra:

The first important question is- why is global terrorism predominantly an Islamic phenomenon?
Secondly, what is it that radicalizes young Muslim men in relatively middle class families in Europe, Britain and other places?
where is the money coming from? It’s very obvious this takes a lot of training, this takes a lot of organization and it is clear that the money pipeline starts in Saudi Arabia in which case we should be asking- what role does the US play in this,

So as long as America thinks only of its own interests, its never going to have a complete understanding. Right now America’s interests are the World’s interests and they don’t understand that; our economic system, the economic melt down is telling us now that there is only one economy, weather patterns are telling us that there is only one ecology; when are we going to learn that there is only one humanity?


Imran Khan cricketing legend and Pakistani Politician:

Terrorism has nothing to do with religion. All root causes of terrorism lie in politics

When they say Islamist terrorists and start looking for a cure in Islam, they are surprised to find that these young terrorists don’t fit the stereotype of the Islamic terrorist with the big beard. Then they are even more shocked when they find that most of the suicide attackers-one half of them according to one estimate-are university graduates. What is happening is that Muslims are getting radicalized and it’s not because of Islamic extremism, it’s because of political issues which are unresolved.
You can always talk about moderate Islam but the struggle between Israel and Palestine is not going to go away unless there is a political resolution; All religions-not just Islam, preach about compassion and justice-no religion wants anyone to kill innocent people or patronize injustice.
To blame a religion is the biggest injustice we do on people of a certain religious community. So when you say Islamist terrorist and try to find solutions in religion you actually make the situation much worse because among the Muslims this war on terror after 9/11 is being perceived as a war against Islam, and when it is perceived as a war against Islam, there will be no shortage of Muslims willing to kill themselves may be to protect their religion. So terrorism needs to be de linked from religion.
Dr Robert R Friedmann: nationally renowned expert on criminal justice and counter terrorism:
The implication then is that just because someone is poor they have a justification to become a terrorist. That is atrocious and a tremendous mistake to suggest that. One has to look at political interests, ideologies, who benefits, what are the strategies; just because someone is poor they become terrorists is simply not backed by any facts.
The first distinction is that all terrorist groups have local interests, though I hesitate to say that about Hamas and Hezbollah because if you look carefully at their writing and ideology they clearly veer into the globalization of terrorist objectives.

Society cannot afford to let terrorism become a part of normal living and treat it like vehicular fatalities and do not do too much about it.
I don’t believe that US, Europe, South Africa or Australia, for that matter anyone else can influence Islam and I don’t think it’s their duty either. I would shy away from religion or religious wars. I think what needs to be done is to let moderate voices within Islam carry that battle inside and not to have outsiders tell the Muslims what to do.
Today there is no safe place in the world….While the public safety community understands the threat, I don’t think the public does, in any part of the world-even in Israel.”

While questions, allegations continue, I believe that in the end it boils down to personal responsibility whether it’s a journalist or a politician or the common man who chose the corrupt or inept politicians who rule, who adds to the ratings of sensational programs by watching and listening to them, the rich who pay to get things done. We have in the end become victims of our own apathy and our own disability, to be , as Gandhi said, the change we want to see in the world.

The buck begins and stops with us all.

Flying Shoe-cers

And the look on the face of George Bush as America hit (!)a new low in more ways than one-was priceless

What’s been even more interesting is the comments of most people of a diverse mix, who’ve seen the video and have spoken to me.. Its mostly “ Too bad the reporter guy missed!’

While my bleary eyes(working on interviews related to the Mumbai attacks) took in the video and my lips had their moment of mirth, many more comments and phrases and posts flew across the internet and hit their mark.

I hope I don’t tread on too many toes-after all it’s the President of the United States. But here goes:

“It gives fresh meaning to the phrase shooed away.

"Bush's Ducker T-shirt" puts his head on a tee ducking a barrage of shoes

It would have been even more funny, had President GWB asked that man for his socks!!!

The jokes and the shoes were flying on the late night talk shows Monday night. The comedians couldn't get enough of that shoe-throwing incident in Iraq.
President Bush was shown over-and-over ducking the shoes thrown by an Iraqi reporter during a Baghdad news conference.

Jay Leno wants to know where was the Secret Service. He asks shouldn't they have "at least jumped in front of the second shoe?"

David Letterman was impressed by the president's quick reactions. Letterman says Bush "hasn't dodged anything like that since, well, the Vietnam War."

Conan O'Brien says the shoe-thrower is being hailed as a hero by some in Iraq. O'Brien adds when the man dies, "he'll be greeted in heaven by 72 podiatrists."

Newspapers across the U.S. had headlines saying shoe-icide attack, shoe-nabomber and even
Meanwhile Americans are having their say on what should be done with the shoes.
Some tell CNN they should be put in the Smithsonian, be impeached along with Bush, or should be auctioned off with the proceeds going to the auto industry.

Seriously. Say what you will about Dubya, he’s in his 60s and has the reflexes of a cat.

Who woulda thunk that ducking a shoe would actually help the public’s perception of W?!

Bush Iraqi shoe attack: Why didn't the Secret Service take a loafer for the president?

George Bush does a shoe dance.

And this from Chris Bucholz-

So Someone threw their shoes at the President this weekend. Shoes. The President. I know. We wouldn’t really be a comedy site if we didn’t discuss this at least a little bit, would we?

Anyways, here’s the facts: During a press conference, an Iraqi reporter carefully removed both his shoes, stood up and proceeded to throw them, one after the other, at President Bush. The President responded, sensibly, by ducking twice. His attacker, now out of ammunition, then responded by being tackled to the floor by a team of Secret Service Agents. And aside from some glib shoe puns, that was the end of it.

Right off the bat, my first reaction was to be marginally impressed at the President’s reflexes. Bush has taken a lot of stick for being a terrible president, which is probably fair, given his generally high levels of terribleness. But did you see the speed of that duck? That was Mortal Kombat fast. I half expected to see a harpoon come flying out of his coat sleeve after the first shoe sailed past.

Second reaction: Where was the Secret Service? I gather they’ve taken some flak already about this, although mainly from pencil-necked pundits and bloggers like myself, nattering away safe in our beds. Just milling around the Internet, I’ve seen lots of sweaty outrage about “the second shoe” today. It does seem a little surprising that a guy could fire two whole shoes at the President of the United States before someone stopped him. What if they were one of those knife boots the kids are into these days? That could have done some damage.

But upon further reflection, the Secret Service agents probably handled this as effectively as possible. The guy was throwing shoes - although they probably could have shot him before he got that second shoe off, what do you have then? A dead guy with no shoes on, that’s what, and then you’re asked to leave the country and never come back. Considering how widely loved Bush is in Iraq (check back this time next year for the Iraqi’s first National “Fuck Bush Day”) it’s probably a minor miracle that he’s able to go there at all and come home alive, much less with a tread mark on his skull.

Third reaction: Oh, good work Bundy. The Iraq war has kind of fallen out of the American public’s consciousness the last year or so, mainly because it just leaves everyone feeling kind of bummed I guess. So this little stunt has, on the surface, brought it back to the forefront. But in a completely trivial way. Like every other type of protest, the only thing people talk about is the protest itself, not the message being raised. There are a lot of things about the Iraq war that deserve to be treated with a certain level of seriousness (all the dead people for one.) But instead of talking about that we’ve now got newsrooms across the country racking their brains looking for shoe puns.”

And shoe... eh so it goes.

The Audacity of Hope: Great Expectations from Barack Obama

"The right way is not always the popular and easy way. Standing for right when it is unpopular is a true test of moral character" - Margaret Chase Smith

Nov 4th 2008 was a historic day for America-an African American man with the strangest of names; a name that all the nay sayers picked on, became the 44th President of the United States of America. In a campaign that was littered with brickbats, the man who would be President picked up those bricks, and built a foundation with such grace, intelligence and dignity that even those who didn’t vote for him had to acknowledge he was a class act. It was also one of those moments that the American people came through the true test of moral character that Margaret Chase Smith talks about in the quote above, with flying colors.

My first introduction to Barack Obama, like many others was at the Democratic Convention in July of 2004 when he delivered the keynote address. He knew then as he knows now, when he said “Tonight is a particular honor for me because, let's face it, my presence on this stage is pretty unlikely.”

He is the grandson of a cook and the son of a man who “grew up herding goats, went to school in a tin- roof shack,” but found the magical passage to America on a scholarship. And yet, said Obama, his white mother and black father’s improbable union, and the repercussions that came with it never stopped them from believing “in the possibilities of this nation.” When they named their son Barack they did so believing that “in a tolerant America, your name is no barrier to success.”

I remember immediately buying Barack Obama’s book “Dreams from my Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance” after hearing him at the convention while people were saying “Obama who?” when I asked many of my friends if they had watched him speak.
The book was a fascinating read. Obama wrote as well as he spoke and the book seemed like it had been written yesterday and not more than a decade ago when he was in his early thirties.

I remember being struck by the beauty of language, the honesty with which he wrote his memoir and more than that the fact that he was an observer and a listener. He read so he could understand what made white people afraid of the black people, what drove that fear, and “how people learnt to hate”. He shared stories of trying to find his identity, of how his American passport gave him privileges in foreign lands, which was denied to others, but above all even then, he became a bridge builder and a man who listened as well as he spoke-an art that is not easy to learn.

His compassion for the struggling masses, promising hope to the hopeless and delivering, and talking as candidly about his dabbling with drugs to still all the questions that face a biracial child whose father had abandoned him, have found more empathy in today’s America than expected.

And while every one thought Hillary Clinton was a shoo-in for the Democratic Presidential nomination and that her husband Bill Clinton with his charisma, brilliant intellect and formidable oratory would help the landslide in her favor, I stumbled upon Michelle Obama while flipping channels at 1 a.m. at night. She was addressing a retirement community, and I was hooked. Not only was I blown away by her sincerity, and intelligence, her speech was stunning in content and presentation. And I remember thinking-this woman will make an amazing First Lady.

The campaign was an exercise in endurance for all the candidates-brutal, relentless, exhausting and repetitive. The assault from all sides was so unbearable at times that in spite of being from the media, I would shut everything out and refused to write or request interviews from any candidate. But what I couldn’t escape was Obama’s calm demeanor, his tolerance and his effort at being a gentleman by and large, when others were dealing some pretty unsavory cards his way. And it didn’t go unnoticed.

And what he said that night as he stood before a cheering crowd, could very well have been said on 4th November as he stood now before a multitude of teary eyed Americans from all age groups and ethnicities, “I stand here knowing that my story is part of the larger American story; that I owe a debt to all of those who came before me, and that in no other country on Earth is my story even possible.’

In the aftermath of the elections there were several things that struck me. The brilliant use of the internet by the campaign not only to raise the largest funds ever for a Presidential campaign, but to educate and involve a very large net savvy community. It was also fascinating to see the number of first time voters that showed up to vote, because they were moved into action by the audacity of hope and change that Obama represented and they answered his call in droves to become engaged. Gandhi’s message “Be the change you want to see in the world”, was never more symbolic of a campaign than the one run by Obama’s team. And the internet continues to be a great medium for the President elect with his now website www.change.gov. where Obama will continue to connect on cyber space with the common masses, on a regular basis.

It was also interesting to note that while Obama is a bi-racial man who was brought up by his white mother and grandparents, with his grandmother playing a very significant role in his upbringing, and Obama himself never made his race an issue-Nov 4th became a day of redemption for not just black America, but every ethnic group that has felt ostracized or isolated. I remember Whoopi Goldberg saying that while she always felt a part of America, when Obama won she felt that she could finally put her suitcase down. Yet the tears of joy that streamed down many faces were not just of African Americans, or soft, mushy grandmas or sappy women. There were grown men, and tough journalists reaching for their Kleenex. And so many believe today that now there is hope of better understanding and a softening of the racial divide that has haunted America through the ages.

As the media continues to ambush America with the minutest dissection of what lies ahead of Obama, how he needs the biggest mop to clean the messy spill the Bush administration leaves behind; as cynicism raises its ugly head amidst the celebrations of history being created, I hope those who still continue to question if Obama will deliver, remember the most important part of his acceptance speech.
“The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even in one term. But, America, I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you, we as a people will get there..

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won't agree with every decision or policy I make as President. And we know the government can't solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And, above all, I will ask you to join in the work of remaking this nation, the only way it's been done in America for 221 years, block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.

What began 21 months ago in the depths of winter cannot end on this autumn night. This victory alone is not the change we seek. It is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It can't happen without you, without a new spirit of service, a new spirit of sacrifice.

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism, of responsibility, where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves but each other.
Let us remember that, if this financial crisis taught us anything, it's that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers. In this country, we rise or fall as one nation, as one people. Let's resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long.

As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, we are not enemies but friends. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.

And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices. I need your help. And I will be your President, too.”
I hope that for once America hears the voice of their new President and stands behind him and becomes his strength, so he can become ours.

Oh look, its a bird, its a Palin, uh Plane

Is it just me or is everyone suffering from election fatigue? I just can’t seem to escape the never ending dissection of every political move, every word uttered-I have distorted vision-(yeah I really think Tina Fey is Sarah Palin), distorted mind-(I wish Tina Fey was Sarah Palin) and a never ending refrain in my head-I need ear plugs and opaque glasses.

And in spite of all the hoopla, the mind boggling discussions, the heated debates and media blitz(Wolfie isn’t the only one blitzing or should I say obliterating the television screen), I see so many people still clueless about what the candidates bring to the table.

I get answers like McCain’s too old, Obama too young from most people- depending on the age group I talk to- on why they aren’t voting for one or the other.

People talk more about Palin and McCain’s appearance on SNL, then the issues at hand.
And instead of serious discussions I get jokes like the one below and I actually laugh

Why did the chicken cross the road?

SARAH PALIN: Before it got to the other side, I shot the chicken, cleaned and dressed it, and had chicken burgers for lunch.

BARACK OBAMA: The chicken crossed the road because it was time for a change! The chicken wanted change!

JOHN MC CAIN: My friends that chicken crossed the road because he recognized the need to engage in cooperation and dialogue with all the chickens on the other side of the road.

HILLARY CLINTON: When I was First Lady, I personally helped that little chicken to cross the road. This experience makes me uniquely qualified to ensure right from Day One! that every chicken in this country gets the chance it deserves to cross the road. But then, this really isn't about me.

GEORGE W. BUSH: We don't really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not. The chicken is either against us, or for us. There is no middle ground here.

DICK CHENEY: Where's my gun?

COLIN POWELL: Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the satellite image of the chicken crossing the road.

BILL CLINTON: I did not cross the road with that chicken. What is your definition of chicken?

AL GORE: I invented the chicken.

AL SHARPTON: Why are all the chickens white? We need some black chickens.

ANDERSON COOPER, CNN: We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet been allowed to have access to the other side of the road.

PAT BUCHANAN: To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.

DR SEUSS: Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, the chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I've not been told.

ERNEST HEMINGWAY: To die in the rain, alone.

GRANDPA: In my day we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Somebody told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.

BARBARA WALTERS: Isn't that interesting? In a few moments, we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heart warming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting, and went on to accomplish its lifelong dream of crossing the road.

ARISTOTLE: It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.

JOHN LENNON: Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads together, in peace.

BILL GATES: I have just released eChicken 2008, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your checkbook. Internet Explorer is an integral part of eChicken 2008. This new platform is much more stable and will never crash or need to be rebooted.

ALBERT EINSTEIN: Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move beneath the chicken?

COLONEL SANDERS: Did I miss one?

So yeah is it just me or are we all really thrilled Tuesday cometh?

US Supreme Court Sends Troy Davis to his Death

Hi Kavita,

I wanted to take some pictures Monday night but the counselor went home.
I’ll place a request to purchase a few photo coupons so we can take pictures during our next visit. I’m looking forward to it.
Personally I’m doing fine. I’m patiently waiting to hear some good news from the U.S Supreme Court. I’m ready to go home and begin the rest of my life..
They moved me back into my old cell yesterday evening.
This morning I went outside and played a few games of basketball. ..and got plenty of exercise…:)”

My eyes blur with unshed tears as I read this hand written note from Troy. I notice that he has this endearing habit of signing his name as Mr. Troy Davis. It had made me smile when I had read it for the first time.
His hand writing is large and sprawling but meticulous. He does not forget to put a smiley face and he does not forget to say “God Bless You” when he ends.

Just last week, I sent him a hand painted card for his birthday on the 9th.

I wrote the following on many blogs including my own website-

Troy Davis turns 40 today - and he still waits for some reason to celebrate this day.
As a kid he loved G.I. Joe and got many of those figurines for his birthday, recalls sister Martina Correia. Birthdays were fun events in the family backyard with cake, ice cream and hot dogs and some nice gifts. Martina was not around when Troy turned 16, a special birthday for any teenager but sent him gifts while training in the Military. Little would she know that his 21st birthday would be behind bars and on death row.

A maximum security prison is hardly the perfect haven to celebrate a special occasion. That too of inmates whose spirit is being broken through isolation, bad nutrition, and a non productive life style.

The only exceptions are July 4th when they get hamburgers and hot dogs to celebrate Independence day, or when a convict is executed. Then the guards get a special barbecue meal. When an inmate receives a lot of cards they may just acknowledge the birthday briefly as the guards read the mail. Once a month they rent a DVD and the inmates can watch a movie. There is a TV which is controlled by the guards and the inmates can watch that.

They were allowed unlimited books-not any more. Now its seven, the number of visitors too has been cut down drastically and there are not many activities except for a short outing in an enclosed area with a basketball hoop where they can shoot baskets on concrete floors.

“Many inmates have diabetes and hypertension because of the food they get to eat,” says Martina. “There are many inmates with HIV/AIDS and Hepatitis, and don’t get medical treatment. The inmates have to pay 5 dollars each time they visit the doctor and if there is no family to finance them, then they remain untreated unless they are dying.”

Last year a death row inmate died of cancer and a major news paper reported it as-death row inmate escapes death by dying of cancer.” Ironic.
The winter months are harsh. The inmates sleep with 4-5 thin military style blankets, the heating is inadequate. “Last year to conserve energy, they cut off the hot water daily from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. and so many people fell sick taking cold baths. If someone sends you money, they charge you a dollar per month as tax in he prison. The inmate has to buy everything from the prison store, so that the prison can make some money.”

Martina says her family has never been far away from Troy. They used to send Troy 3-4 boxes of things that he could use, but now its been cut to one 15 pound box once a year. Martina and her family has visited Troy for every birthday, and every holiday they could. They have sent individual cards from each family member and friend. Cards that said-even though he is across the miles, he is with them. “We have a present under the Christmas tree for Troy each year. The pile is waiting for him, when he comes back. My mother still wakes up at 6 a.m. every Sunday to cook an elaborate Sunday dinner as if she is still cooking for a houseful of growing kids. Troy used to love her cooking and ate everything!”

The US Supreme Court had asked for more time to look at the information before it gave its decision on Tuesday, the 14th of October.

Today October 14th the highest court in the country proved that it chose technicality over humanity, and denied Troy’s appeal. They handed their decision without a comment said one newspaper. The Washington Post however had this to say-“In refusing to hear a full appeal, the court maintained the high bar it has set for assertions of innocence following convictions in capital cases. Georgia now can set a new date for Davis's execution, because the court's stay expires with today's order.”

The highest bar? Even if it meant killing a possibly innocent man?

There is no closure for the MacPhail family, says Mark MacPhail’s mother. Forgiveness brings a closure like no other, but when we lose a loved one, we forget everything but the need for revenge.

Since then I have sat numb with shock. I didn’t have the courage to call Martina and just sent her a text message, until I could compose myself. Troy is a brave man-his sister Martina redefines the word courage.

I’m unfortunately not as brave nor do I have the kind of faith that they do-and so I crumble….Life teaches you many lessons through example..I’m afraid I just don’t understand this one..