Wednesday, October 13, 2010


Every time you find out something that you realize should have been obvious, you grow a bit older.

For instance, in my early years I used to think that India's independence was a highly dramatic affair. I would imagine British ships hastily sailing away on the midnight of 14th August, with their formerly colonized throwing rocks, or worse, at them from the docks. It took me a long time to figure out that while independence was still a watershed event for India, it was a rather drawn-out political process like any other; that the process was aided and sometimes choreographed by the British themselves; that British officials stayed as advisers long after independence day.

Don't laugh, but till Obama got a Nobel Peace Prize in 2009 for doing virtually nothing, I actually thought the prize meant something absolute. Now don't get me wrong; I am not saying the prize is totally a charade, but before Obama I never realized that it was a platform to promote political/social goals as much as anything else. They should call it 'Nobel Attempts at Self-Fulfilling Prophecies'.

This year's Peace Prize to Liu Xiaobo heightens my cynicism (and makes me older?). It is a cynical, naughty award.

Listen to Sauvik Chakreverti, one of the commentators I avidly follow, but who sometimes comes across as, oh how do i put it, a nut:
I have been watching this prize for many years now, and seeing it go to complete clowns and dangerous demagogues - Paul Krugman being the best example.

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