Pain and Shame Thy names are Commonwealth Games.

People of Indian origin all over the world find themselves having to lower their gaze, quickly change the subject, or give dumb and rambling answers when asked about the fiasco that is the Commonwealth Games. We are left to wonder why India had to take on a task of such magnitude. Clearly, Indian Govt. and people involved in this endeavour do not demonstrate the maturity, honesty, discipline and dedication needed to make it a success.

Every event of any magnitude in India has to have a decorative ministerial involvement so the Ministers in-charge can get some credit and take a few smiling pictures. They have to participate in hundreds of such "photo opportunities", and do not have the time to devote to anything that is not personally rewarding. This fact comes to light from their lame statements to the Press about preparations for the games.

Plans probably looked real good, till it was time to implement them. Construction contracts were probably given on basis of recommendation, partiality, or bribery; or, all of the above. When someone has paid tons of money to attain a contract, he/she (not to be sexist here), tries to make that back and then some, by saving on quality of materials used, and work done. Results are shocking. India had seven years to plan, organize, build and test. Here we are, merely days before the occasion and our structures are falling, facilities are filthy, and people are detached and disinterested. A bridge collapsed, part of the ceiling in the actual stadium fell, and instead of an aura of peaceful order, there is a din of chaos all around.

Here, a comparison with China is inevitable. We were in Beijing three weeks before the Olympics and they were ready to hold the event the next day. The areas around the Bird's Nest and the Athlete's Village were inaccessible to one and all. Tour buses could only point to these from a disctance. The City was in the final stages of window washing and cosmetic touch-ups, and there was not even a sign of litter. Strict punishment is a deterrant for corruption, neglect and plain and simple indifference. Whether it was the rod of Communism, or the dedication and patriotism of people on the street, the country put up a phenomenal show. They must have had their internal struggles and strifes, but participating nations were not given any reason to be concerned or apprehensive. There are bound to be unforeseen lapses of ommission and commission, given the magnitude of the event, and that is why the forseeable ones need to be prevented.

It is shameful, indeed, when nations are withdrawing on basis of cleanliness in the year 2010. The village should have been attractive, inviting, and a shining example of Indian hospitality. Instead, it depicts a disgraceful picture of filth and litter that pollutes our streets and neighborhoods at any given time.

Countries are rightfully concerned about security of their athletes. On any given day, newspapers and TV news are replete with pictures and stories about attacks against women, of motorbikers violating peace and security of neighborhoods like Cannaught Place, of blasts blocks from a police "Chowki", people protesting and blocking trains and road traffic for hours. In the midst of all this we see the watchdogs of law and order standing around with their batons and antiquated rifles. When he could not evade the subject any more, the Minister in-charge merely states that security is adequate, and if some country does not approve, he cannot help it. That sounds so re-assuring to Nations who are jittery about exposing their athletes to an unsafe setting! How about a simple reassurance that such and such measures are being taken to make the streets and surroundings safe for guests and Delhi residents?

At this point India is not equipped to handle an event that needs total restructure of a city, destroys its ecosystem, and pulls at the meagre strings of a developing society. The thousands of crores being spent on the games could have been used to uplift the poor, to educate the children, improve the infrastructure, or help the farmers who are compelled to take their own lives. Perhaps, some little bit could have been spent on training and nourishment of the athletes themselves. When one tries to count the holes this money could have filled, one runs out of money but not the holes.

A lot of us living outside India always feel a sense of nostalgia and love for the country. We miss our days growing up there. It was always a packet of the good and the bad, of the ugly and the beautiful, but that was always our packet to own, to remember and to love. Now it has been shredded to pieces for the rest of the world to peek in, to question, to ridicule, and to turn away from. That hurts.

What a cool,mellow morning! The curtain of fog is shrouding everything beautiful and ugly, as though to embrace it all. As you step outside, the cool touches the depths of your soul, calming all the storms, big or small, in your consciousness, leaving you to paecefully sigh,"This is heavenly". The pearls of dew glisten on the heat exhausted leaves, infusing fresh breath and hope in to them. They know their days are numbered, so they drink from this nectar like a terminal patient getting hydration, drop by drop. Even though we do not get the four typical seasons in Southern California, we will get our "Fall". These leaves will make room for new ones to come, true to the cycle of life. The difference is that we won't get many Fall colors, exccept where some of us have planted trees that actually change color. Effect is not the riot of color you see in some other states, but that of a dull green landscape with blobs of color. Our pines are always green,and the landscape is not totally bare. We do not grieve the fallin of leaves like Tennyson:
My heart faints and my whole soul grieves
At the moist rich smell of rotting leaves"
Yet the melancholy of the season will hit a little later, when the day will turn in to night rather quickly, and the dark evenings will drag like the never ending stories of a tired, old relative.

Our leaves do not get the chance to rot and mulch.When the leaves dry here, Santa Ana winds blow them all around, and then the rains wash them away.The Santa Anas are no calming breezes that bring wifts of ripening fruits or brewing apple ciders.These blow in hot and fierce like demons. Nothing stands in their way. Half the ripening fruits meet an untimely end,and the flowering plants lose their crowning glories. Anything that is not tied down, will be found in the most unlikeliest of places. No need to despair yet. We do have a bit of time to enjoy the cool mornings and balmy afternoons till these nightmares hit. Right now it is a:

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

We are revelling in Keats' Autumn, with apples ripening, big red figs bending the boughs, and grapes a-plenty.