In the development race - The intangible counts

everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted. — Albert Einstein

We like counting. And as a country when we are striving towards ‘development’, I begin to ponder what really is ‘development’? Many indices rank countries based on their performance on various ‘indicators’ of Development. Have they been able to measure ‘everything that counts’? In most cases, what it is the tangible that is measured since it is easiest to count, but it is the intangible, which might matter the most.

The first scale used to measure development was Gross Domestic Product (GDP), or a countries income. In 1990, there was a change in this perspective of looking at development through crude economic lens alone . This is was the first step in measuring development with a focus on the country’s people centric policies was taken by Mahbub Ul Haq who created the Human Development Index (HDI). The HDI, used by UNDP to measure development, looks at three things– Health, indicated by the life expectancy at birth; Education, indicated by mean years of schooling and expected years of schooling; and Living standards, measured by Gross National Income per capita. The life expectancy at birth accounts for the number of years a person would live but not the quality of that life. Mortality rates surely indicate our susceptibility to death but how do we measure how well we live?

The intangible matters not only when we are talking about quality of life but even while calculating our GDP. Only 36% of the world’s GDP is from the tangible industry of manufacturing and agriculture, while 64 % lies in the service industry. They never get included!

Way back in 1968, American politician, Robert Kennedy, was disturbed by our tendency to measure only the tangible, “The gross national product does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages, the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage, neither our wisdom nor our learning, neither our compassion nor our devotion to our country, it measures everything in short, except that which makes life worthwhile”.


The Gupta Period in India is known as the Golden Age of India as there was growth in all fields including art, literature, astronomy . Yet, the current Multidimensional Poverty Index developed by Oxford Poverty & Human Development Initiative and the UNDP only checks on the lack of foods, education (defining it as years of schooling), health and infrastructure. What about lack of choice? Lack of knowledge? Is poor quality education not sign poverty?

The intabgible is lost in the crowd of 298 indicators in the World Development Indicatorsof developed the World Bank. . Of the 87 indicators used to measure education, none look at the quality of education - none ask if the children are happy going to school. The 29 social development indicators does look at gender equality but measures it in terms of education and health, and overlooks issues of discrimination and insecurity. The Gender Empowerment Measure (GEM) of the UNDP also keeps silent on these issues. . The recent study published by Thomson Reuters foundation, indicates India is 4th most dangerous country for women. The indicators used were health, discrimination, sexual violence, non sexual violence, cultural facts and trafficking rate. How can living in fear lead towards development?

Recently, efforts are made to capture the usually intangible qualitative aspects of life, albeit calling them the governance indicators. For example, the World Governance Indicators prepared by the World Bank uses six qualitative dimensions to measure development - . uses these Voice and Accountability; Political Stability and Absence of Violence/Terrorism; Government Effectiveness; Regulatory Quality; Rule of Law; Control of Corruption.

Sitting in lap of the Himalayas, Bhutan’s former King, Jigme Singye Wangchuck, wanted to create an enabling environment for his people to be happy. And for him, that is the only measure of good governance and development. He was the first one to envisage a Happiness Index. Today, more and more world’s leaders are trying to measure the Gross National Happiness.

A truly developed nation is marked more by the intangible indicators --- development is freedom, free thinking, the space where the mind can grow without fear, in a community where the spirit of democracy does not get replaced by majoritarianism; a country where people are happy. True development looks at sustainability of environment, as well as cultures.. How do we measure a community that has respect for diversity, compassion, and creates and environment of well being? When a tolerant society can be one of the essential factors for ‘well being’, we need to think how to capture and ‘measure’ that with our indicators.

I had poetry I wanted to share,
I had books to recommend
I wanted to dine
at the new restaurant down the road
But the journey came to an end

I wanted to work hard and build
home of trust and sprawling frienship
I had armoured with patience
I stocked healing lotions of love

I worked on the land
I was learning how to farm
But its still not the field I wished it to be
I lost the seeds,
I lost it all - like a hapless being

few firsts - 2011

17 Jan 2011 - Got fired. Reason: no chemistry. Realised I was the only one I have ever known (both primary and secondary connections taken into account) who have ever been fired. Felt sort of --- errr -- unique. Decided to celebrate.

20 Jan 2011 - Got doubly-fired. Might be tough to understand but it is like
I got fired again from the same job, by the same person. Funny and well, not-so-funny.

24 Jan 2011 - Signed a consultancy for Impact Assessment Study where I will be leading the show. It is with CMCA and they seem to be more confident of my skills than me!

25 Jan 2011 - Bought fish from a shop! (yes, this bong has never done that!)

25 Jan 2011 - Called Ma for recipe (I think I did manage to add my bits though)

25 Jan 2011 - Cooked macher chocchori with batti fish. Later wrote out the recipe in My recipe book.

25 Jan 2011 - Went online and searched and found recipes. Decided to go for a particular one after much thinking and judging with unknown (at least undocumented indicators)

25 Jan 2011 - Cooked doi maach. Later wrote out the recipe in My recipe book marking out my own ways from the ones given on internet.

27 Jan 2011 - Started working on a Transparency and Accountability project by tracking the health budget of Karnataka. Exciting! Working with Sadananda is very humbling and he gently takes you through the process. Being Mentored by him is encouraging.

30 Jan 2011 - Went on aimless bus tour in Bangalore. Took G3 till its last stop. It was such a wonderful road!

1 Feb 2011 - Got an interview from one more department of the same organisation. APF called a few days back for a role in KM, and then today for a role in ELM (they didn't know the other department was considering). Felt Good! He called me to his office for an in-person interview that day itself, while on the telephonic interview when he realised I was in the same city. Then called again in sometime to cancel it saying that the other department has asked him not to, since they are processing it.

5 Feb 2011 - Stayed in hospital as attendant for 4 days. Didn't know when I came to St John's with Sujit to the OPD that this was the rule in Bangalore. ALL in patients must have an attendant with him/her 24 hours. One can try for paid MSWs, if one has ABSOLUTELY NO OTHER ALTERNATIVE. But that is not all that easy to do or contact, if you are getting there after 'work' hours.

12 Feb 2011 - Moon came for the Bryan Adams show with Jeet. Mrig joined in from Coimbatore. Moon of course also got her daughter. And because she couldn't go to the concert, her mother in law also joined. I don't think I know anyone else going to another city for such one day concerts. But, it is mamoni's travelling as nanny which makes it special for me! NEVER heard of such things before :-)

19 Feb 2011 - Heard Veena live for the first time. It was played By Dr Jayanthi Kumaresh, Ronu Mojumdar on the Flute and Anubrata Chatterjee on Tabla. Again I think I heard drums from various states of India together on stage for the first time on this show.

20 Feb 2011 - Went for a Bengali musical in Bangalore. Jibonmukhi gaan. Kallol Dasgupta. Amazing life experience the person has. Had never heard or heard of him before.

20 Feb 2011 - Ate the mahabhoj (veg meal) at Maharaja. It was an amazing discovery. Also discovered that it is not so expensive :P

4 March 2011 - Redirected a courier for me to my friends place. Didnt know this was possible. I like it. Got a call in Kolkata from a courier saying he is waiting outside my Bangalore office -- he was carrying a package from Jenny, Azim Premji Foundation.
Called courier, gave Sujit's address and also took their address. Went for a huge coordination drive.

5 March 2011 - Offer! From a Azim Premji Foundation. For the first time a proper offer with PF , gratuity and all. Sujit got the courier in the afternoon. Read it out to be in full smile.

7 March 2011 - Negotiated! Spoke to my immeidate boss. Discussed the issue about leave for study if I get through dual mode of TISS. She agreed. Also spoke money.

7 March 2011 - Flew in to Mumbai Airport. Never entered Mumbai by air before.

10 March 2011 - Money negotiation! I wrote salary negotiation mail to the HR etc. A few days on phone with two HRs and lots of 'sweet' negotiations.

23 March 2011 - Got final revised offer letter from Azim Premji Foundation.

journalism , and a bit of me

I wish everytime someone at an interview asks me "why are did you quit journalism?" or even better put by my most recent HR "why the disillusion with Journalism?', I wish I could beat it up more vocally, creating some kind of a media activist of myself - right there, right then. But I steer clear (or not so clear) and simply choose to say the harsh things in well rehearsed smoothness. And actually not even that. I want to get the job, so I say very nice sounding things -- which by the way are also true, but not really the prime factor. Not too sure if this reaction of mine makes me embarassed, ashamed or if just the tireness of the whole business and the sameness of the string of questions overwhelm the radar of my feelings.

My batchmate from ACJ writes! - I think for all of us -- so this mail, trying to share my story with you. (if possible, please take those questions on my behalf the next time - it truly is amazing how the entire human race can run out of creativy on asking questions. At least change the way you ask! I entertain you with my answers, do I deserve no entertainmaint at all??) And you can also claim (on my behalf again) that I am not really as strong to fight the system - being in the system and changing it all. Whatever strength I have, I wish to devote it to some other battles I chose to fight. Yes, they too are about changing systems. But I chose to change that system and not the system of reporting and the editorial policies of instituitions. At least not from the inside. That I actually might blast from the outside and CHANGE.

By the way, just to report, I had once done a quite appreciated story on water contamination in bottled 'drinking' water (available on request, if you want to see it to believe it). Appreciated only quite privately actually. And yes, as many of you know I prefer filtered tap water to bottled 'poison'. At too at Rs 15 per litre! I have shared this view of mine with mnay. Not sure if you were privy to it before. But that is why you will not find bottled or jarred drinking water in my house. And you will find me drinking tap water even in Dhabbas (that is when people even treat me as untouchable). Disclaimer : I also buy those bottled 'drinking' water too -- and trust me, I always say a small prayer before I sip in.

So well, here is one glimpse at 'disillusioned (ex) journalists' --


Inside newspapers and governments
by Malarvizhi Jayanth

The memoirs of a former journalist who is using the Wikileaks context to settle old scores



Once upon an election, the ruling party was bullying and booth-capturing recklessly. I was there. I saw it. Outside one booth, three Tata Sumos drove away at mad speeds, their screeching, spinning wheels blowing dust into my eyes in a scene straight out of the Tamil movies. I walked into the booth to find it had been ransacked minutes earlier. I saw weeping government officials and ballots with the stamp over the rising sun scattered everywhere. Other reporters saw similar scenes. Reporters received complaints of cash and biriyani(!) being distributed to voters.The management of the newspaper I worked for chose to run the Election Commission’s claims that the elections had been without incident, rather than accounts from several reporters who had seen the captured booths and heard from voters who had been offered bribes. Two days later, when almost all other media (barring the usual suspects) had run outraged stories about the brazenness of the booth capturing, hesitantly, The Hindu followed suit. Today, they announce to us that cash for votes is a way of political life in Tamil Nadu. Yeah, thanks, we know that already. Too bad you couldn’t believe your lowly brown-skinned reporters who told you all about it. A white man sends off a cable about it to his masters and then it becomes news? Really?



The ways of power are mysterious. Now, The Hindu is releasing the WikiLeaks India cables to the world. Now, we know what many people in Tamil Nadu had been yelling about – that the Government of India was in cahoots with the Government of Sri Lanka to turn attention away from the bloodbath to wipe out the LTTE – was true. Now, in fact, we know that our worst fears and suspicions about institutions are often true. And now, I write about how I grew disenchanted with the newspaper I grew up with, the paper that framed my worldview, ruined my prose and beat any interest in journalism out of me.



Once I discovered that bottled water could have cyanide or shit or worse in it. This was when the Chennai Corporation was on a spree of taking water samples and blacklisting bottled water brands because they claimed the samples were unfit for consumption. So. I visited several private water-bottling facilities in the outer suburbs of the city. Several brands can get their water bottled from the same plant. I saw workers on the same premises segregating bottles after they had been sealed and pasting the stickers of different brands on them. All these plants had laboratories to test samples of the water they are bottling, to comply with regulations. Samples had tested positive for everything from cyanide compounds to faecal matter. They have recorded these cheerfully, I have no clue why – possibly because inspection officials can be bribed – and shown them to me equally cheerfully – possibly confident that a stupid woman would not understand what these record notebooks had to say.

I started drinking tap water from that day. I’m still alive.

I went to the government Bureau of Indian Standards lab to understand the process of water testing. They walked me through the steps involved in testing water samples.

I visited the Chennai Corporation lab where they claimed to be testing the water. My school’s chemistry lab was better equipped. This place did not have a functioning refrigerator to store samples at low temperatures (a crucial part of the testing process). They showed me some grimy test tubes when I asked to see samples of the water that were being tested. The claims about testing water were clearly false. The moral of the story: None of them are clean – neither the bottlers nor the people claiming to be testing it. The article I wrote shuttled between the internal censors for more than a week. Then it was quietly rewritten for unreadability and published.



The Hindu is a good employer. They take care of their employees – practically free healthcare, heavily subsidised canteen food and all that jazz. I was a bad journalist. I did not know how to stay in the good books of the powers-that-be. I did not know how to impress the right people. Most of my stories about civic problems in the suburbs, the rites of the transgendered, the farmers markets in Thiruvallur and such-like trivia did not make the first three pages of the paper. Most importantly, I did not know how to cosy up to government officials - vital if I want to be able to milk them for stories later. I treated all of them like they had some communicable terminal illness. The Chennai Corporation Commissioner is a smooth operator who knows how to keep journalists and politicians happy. I pride myself on the fact that he yelled at me once when I was working on the water purification story. That is among the few moments in my journalistic career when I felt I was doing something right.



I wish I could say that I walked out of office in rage over some incident of internal censorship and never went back. The reason I actually quit was far more trivial. A few months later, salaries were raised across the board since the management wanted to hire ACJ graduates, who were all being offered much higher starting pay by other organisations. My salary raise still did not equal the pay that freshers were being offered, though I had been working for this newspaper for three years. I am an ACJ graduate myself (oh, the exquisite irony of it all) I fought to get the raise. Then I quit. There was high drama and exchange of memos and self-righteous letters because I refused to serve the notice period for resignation. Each time I cross that office I feel a thrill of joy that I no longer work there.



Cue next flashback: The first story I wrote for The Hindu was about the idle Braille press at the Government School for the Blind, Poonmallee. With the only government Braille press in Tamil Nadu out of action, none of the high school visually challenged students in the state would have individual textbooks for their board exams. The internal censor who decided which stories should be run from the city sat on this article for a week. He finally reluctantly allowed it to be published in one of the inside pages, buried between two ads. The headline was a quote from a government official. This was my first intimation that my employer (or his intermediaries) did not like stories that rocked the Establishment’s boat. I thought this only applied to the government. I was wrong.



The students of an engineering college were up in arms when it became clear that their sprouted-overnight college did not have AICTE approval or any of the infrastructure that a college should have. I wrote an article quoting some of their claims. The next morning I was stunned to see an article replete with smooth-talking quotes from the management of the same college without a single student voice. I had only written an article about the students’ accusations (biased supporter of the oppressed that I am). The above-mentioned censor had done the re-writing and run the story. It was whispered that he could get anybody a seat in any engineering college because he was friendly with most of their managements. No-one made these accusations in public. We did not rock the Establishment. No, sir.



I don’t know if any of the work I did as a journalist ever helped ‘change the world’. I know I made things worse for the wrong people once. I went to a village on the banks of Cooum upstream – two hours away from Chennai. The magnificent river bed of this seasonal river is a sight to be seen. Comparing it with the sewer that runs through the city is heartbreak. The women in this village were protesting against arrack being sold on the banks of the river. They posed hesitantly for a picture after I told them that it would add power to their claims. The next day I heard from a panchayat official that the women had been threatened with violence by the police for having dared to complain to the press. No, they didn’t want to complain about the coercion. Resistance can be beaten out of us very simply in a day. Or it could take a little longer. For me, at The Hindu, it took about three years.



I continue to be perplexed about why a newspaper that will publish Sainath should choose to dance over a tightrope when it came to the Tamil Nadu government. In spite of everything, I still read The Hindu and am happy they have published the WikiLeaks India cables. But I have been inside once. And seen that chess games are in progress all the time. Who the sacrificial pawns and who the knights are this time, and this close to the elections, is difficult to tell. The ways of power are truly mysterious.

i want to be

I want to be a rebel,
a silent, calm rebel
I want to be someone
who calls for a revolution
and millions follow
and I be unknown
I want to be an awesome cook
the quick recipes
and the five course meals
I want to be a perfect striker
balancing home and office deals
I want to be an avid reader
knowing the tit bits of the world
I want to be a friend for a banter
and a hand for that tough tough crawl
I want to be a dancer
boldly holding the stage
I want to be a mother
caressing my child on my breast
I want to be a girl
full of dreams
I want to be a woman
measuring the worldly realms
And then, if given a chance
I just want to be me
And then, if there is time,
I just want to be human
another good human being