An Indecisive Indian

  In November 2023, Indian Railways (IR) boldly proclaimed itself the “most safe and affordable mode of transport” and pledged to eliminate passenger waitlists by 2027. Just a month later, it announced an even more ambitious plan: a ₹1 lakh crore investment to procure 7,000–8,000 new train sets over the next 15 years, part of a broader ₹4.2 lakh crore infrastructure overhaul. This included multi-tracking seven high-density corridors, completing the Eastern and Western Dedicated Freight Corridors (DFCs), and adding 5,500–6,000 km of new tracks in FY25.   IR also projected a surge in annual passenger numbers from 800 crore to 1,000 crore and proposed 3,000 new trains—alongside a massive infrastructure upgrade—to be delivered within just 4 to 5 years. This longer timeline, endorsed as the Prime Minister’s guarantee, effectively contradicted the original 2027 deadline, suggesting that the earlier figure may have been floated without serious deliberation.   Yet, apart ...

  It took unflinching resolve of a team at Integral Coach Factory (ICF), Perambur, Chennai, to design and build Train 18 in just 18 months—India’s first modern semi-high-speed train. Flagged off in early 2019 as the Vande Bharat Express, it became a symbol of national pride and the PM’s pet project.  But after deploying nearly a 100 rakes—all in seater versions—the novelty has worn thin. I had long held that after approximately 50/60 daytime services, only a Sleeper version could carry the mission forward. But that version, which should have been reality by end 2019, has been repeatedly “launched” since March 2024; it, however, is still playing hide-and-sleeper with commercial service . Why? Largely because quality issues in the BEML-built prototype have caused ICF to raise red flags. Meanwhile, nearly 25 Vande Bharat seater services are running half-empty with their average speeds falling. Yet the sleeper train slumbers on—metaphorically and literally. Disheartened, I once ag...

  Jugaad —or more expressively, Jugaa.D in Roman Hindi—is a powerful and evocative word. According to the Oxford Dictionary, it is a Hindi term referring to an innovative, resourceful, and often unconventional approach to problem-solving, especially in the face of limited resources. It typically implies quick, inexpensive, and improvised solutions using whatever is at hand. More broadly, it encompasses meanings like contrivance, stratagem, intrigue, or any innovative or irregular way of repairing, mending, or solving a problem—a makeshift mechanism or stopgap solution. But jugaad is more than all this. It can also suggest spontaneity, extemporization, ad-libbing, ad hoc responses, or even the spirit of quest, pursuit, chase, hunt, inquiry, or exploration. In looser associations, it connects with ideas like impromptu, expedient, improviso, autoschediasm, speaking off the cuff, acting on impulse or in the moment, winging it, inquest, intrigue, enterprise, and quarry. In short, juga...

I have blogged about our Bayān-e-Ghālib show twice already, and some of you have surely read those accounts. Others interested may see the references at the bottom.   Briefly, in a world drowning in noise, where poetry gasps for breath, a team of Lucknowites dared to dream—not a quiet mehfil (assemblage), but a full-blown spectacle. Not just a recital, but a sensory celebration of the greatest Urdu poet to have ever lived and, of course, wandered the lanes of Delhi— Mirzā Asadullāh Khān Ghālib . The Bayān-e-Ghālib show was born of audacity—to let his verses come alive through khutūt , sur , and raqs (letters, musical notes, and dance), and to resound with the fire of storytelling. Not just the master’s andaaz-e-bayān (style of narration), but bayān with andaaz by the troupe. It turned out to be not merely Ghālib in paper and ink—it became Ghālib on stage , alive in music, motion, and magic.   And a recap, a glimpse into the spectacle:   Narration ...