The governments intention to restrict the applicability of the Right to Information (RTI) legislation in certain areas such as sport and nuclear safety is puzzling.If anything,these two areas require greater transparency in light of corruption in last years Commonwealth Games as well as the protests against nuclear power plants in Jaitapur and Kudankulam.Ever since its enactment in 2005,the RTI Act has faced pressure from various government quarters to allow for greater discretion the call for removing file notings from RTI purview has been around for sometime.However,such moves go against the very principle of open governance.Trying to circumvent the RTI law or bring in amendments to increase the scope of exceptions only betrays reluctance on the part of the government to move towards transparent functioning.
There is no denying that RTI has empowered people in a way previously unknown.That RTI activists have used the legislation to shed light on a plethora of scams in recent times bears testimony to the efficacy of the transparency law.In this respect,the increasing number of attacks on RTI activists is a cause for concern.Making disclosure of information automatic in such cases will act as a deterrent.Nonetheless,there is merit in the criticism that the burgeoning number of RTI applications is hampering government functioning.This can be tackled by making declassification of government records a matter of routine.Transparent governance would receive a big boost if non-sensitive government records could simply be published on the Web India can follow international best practices in this regard.In case of more sensitive information,it could be published after a predefined lapse of time.Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
R.I.P. Steve Jobs
Yashwant Raj,HT
October 07, 2011
The screens simply said: Steve Jobs, 1955-2011. The assistant at a Washington suburb Apple store was sure it was not what the screens of displayed devices said when he had last checked. He looked lost fleetingly, and then snapped back. All business, "HoThe company, on Jobs's watch, straddled the widely disparate worlds of business and personal computing. The personal computer was truly personal, topped up with a steady supply of even more personal computing devices.
"He was a perfectionist," said John Sculley, in a television interview, of the man he infamously fired from the company he had founded. Sculley and Jobs never spoke again. Apple's best would follow Jobs's return.
And he became an immensely rich man. Forbes magazine estimated his personal fortune was $8.3 billion (Rs40,670 crore) in 2011, mostly the value of his 5.5 million Apple shares. His annual salary had been $1 (Rs49) since 1997. Jobs leaves behind wife Laurene Powell Jobs and four children, one of whom, Lisa, was born out of wedlock and had an early version of the Macintosh computer named after her. Jobs was a Buddhist and a committed vegan. "It's really the passing of an era," said the Apple store assistant, who refused to give his name, using a cliché to describe a man he couldn't do easily. He struggled and then gave up: "What a great man."w can I help you, sir?"Steven Paul Jobs, Apple founder, inventor, marketer and visionary, died Wednesday evening. He was 56. His family said in a statement Jobs died peacefully, surrounded by his family.
"Steve's brilliance, passion and energy were the source of countless innovations that enrich and improve all of our lives," said the Apple Inc board, announcing the death. "The world is immeasurably better because of Steve," it added.
Jobs stepped down as Apple CEO late August saying he was unable to carry on. The announcement didn't give reasons, but he was losing the battle against pancreatic cancer, first diagnosed in 2003.
The top job passed on to his deputy Tim Cook, who made his first product launch on Monday: an upgrade of iPhone 4, the iconic device that, as Jobs had once promised, has changed the way people use the phone.
"Apple has lost a visionary and creative genius, and the world has lost an amazing human being," Cook said in an email to Apple employees.
Jobs was 21 when he founded Apple with Steve Wozniak in 1976, working out of that greatest of American launch venues: a garage. That company became the world's most valued company in 2011, beating oil giant Exxon.
Along the way Apple ceased to be merely a computer company as it had started. It was now a company making an entire range of lifestyle products, each more popular than the previous: Mac, iPod, shuffle, iPhone and iPad.
The company, on Jobs's watch, straddled the widely disparate worlds of business and personal computing. The personal computer was truly personal, topped up with a steady supply of even more personal computing devices.
"He was a perfectionist," said John Sculley, in a television interview, of the man he infamously fired from the company he had founded. Sculley and Jobs never spoke again. Apple's best would follow Jobs's return.
And he became an immensely rich man. Forbes magazine estimated his personal fortune was $8.3 billion (Rs40,670 crore) in 2011, mostly the value of his 5.5 million Apple shares. His annual salary had been $1 (Rs49) since 1997. Jobs leaves behind wife Laurene Powell Jobs and four children, one of whom, Lisa, was born out of wedlock and had an early version of the Macintosh computer named after her. Jobs was a Buddhist and a committed vegan. "It's really the passing of an era," said the Apple store assistant, who refused to give his name, using a cliché to describe a man he couldn't do easily. He struggled and then gave up: "What a great man."
Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish: Steve Jobs' speech at Stanford
I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.
The first story is about connecting the dots.
I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?
It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.
And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.
It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:
Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.
None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, it's likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.
Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.
My second story is about love and loss.
I was lucky - I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation - the Macintosh - a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.
I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me - I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.
I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.
During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.
I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.
My third story is about death.
When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.
Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything - all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.
About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.
I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.
This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope it's the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:
No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.
Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.
When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.
Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.
Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.
Thank you all very much.
Monday, October 3, 2011
How much you will charge to laugh?
Sonal Kalra, HT City, DDun
My deepest sympathies to the family and friends of those who are always `dead' serious
I give you three seconds to recall the last time you laughed out loud. One...two...three, done. All those who remembered the last `LOL' they'd casually typed while chatting on Facebook can take turns to slap each other. And the others, who at least tried to recall their real laughter but could not, listen to me. Kya, problem kya hai? Do people, who have to bear you every day of their lives, not deserve to sometimes see the twinkle in your eyes or the teeth that you claim to religiously brush every morning? Kya aapke toothpaste mein namak hai?
Then what is the matter, people?
Yesterday I observed this man at a friend's get-together. He was there to attend a party, but his face bore an expression as if the host had put a gun to his head and dragged him there. Someone told a joke, everyone laughed, even those who had heard it before. But this one's expression got worse. Not wanting to be judgmental about some constipated poor soul who may have indeed had a hard day, I asked my friend if that guy was unwell or needed help. "Oh no, Harsh is like that only. He's the serious, brooding kinds. He always says this hansi mazaak is juvenile and trivial.' My friend went on and on describing the behaviour but my mind's record got stuck at the first sentence itself. His name was Harsh? Isn't that supposed to mean joy? Or maybe his folks spelt his name as the English word `harsh' as that's what he was being, on himself.
If you are reading this, Harsh, please know that I'm not trying to criticise you. In fact contrary to what your friends told me, I genuinely believe that there may have been valid reasons or worries that forced you to adopt a serious attitude in life. But I'm not sure if you're doing yourself a favour by dismissing the power of laughter in life as a triviality. I have a problem with those who try hard to suppress this very basic trait, and in fact a unique gift to human beings, by analysing and judging the source of humour. Some of us have become so intelligent that most causes of laughter seem silly or stupid to us. Movies seem full of slapstick, comedy shows are dismissed as being vulgar (some of them actually are) -we basically start thinking its beneath us to laugh at most things. `Isme hasne ki kya baat hai', is a reply we give to most of the things that make an attempt to tickle our funny bone. What we forget is that in the search of that so-called evolved humour, we are becoming used to being serious all the time.
As I'd written in one of the previous columns, if someone tells a joke, some people get too busy in either trying to beat him to the punchline, or saying I've heard it before, or, if at all, do the teller a favour by forcing a twitch of the lips that vaguely resembles a smile. Internet, God bless, has made things worse. Now abbreviations like `lol' which is supposed to indicate that one is laughing out loud, is thrown away super casually, even though you may be slapping your child with the other hand or cursing your maid while you type it. Henceforth, friends of Harsh, try and adopt these three rules in your life. It may just change your life.
1 Set up a laughter library of your own: Everyone has a different benchmark, trigger and level of humour. You know your own, and try collecting things -DVDs, jokes, books, cartoon clippings, that could be your very own laugh-lib. Feeling low? Just dig into your laugh-lib and it may just take you away from your worries for a while.
2 Set some kind of a codereminder for yourself.
Something that'll remind you to check for how long have you, even unknowingly, sported a frown on your forehead. It could be a ring that you wear, or something on the office wall in front of your desk. Promise yourself that each time you happen to look at it, you'll take a deep breath, remember something funny and smile. Yeah, your colleagues may call for a psychiatrist thinking you've lost it, but deal with it. They don't know you are adding years to your life.
3 Finally, don't ever be judgmental about someone else's sense of humour. Don't go into an overdrive to tell your loved ones they shouldn't have laughed at something that you thought was silly. Don't give angry glares to your boyfriend if he's chuckling loud like a child while watching a movie, that laughter is way more valuable than your uptight attitude about whether it was funny or whether its causing you embarrassment in the movie hall. And laugh your own guts out, people who turn to look at you are not thinking you are foolish, they are actually jealous because they are still looking for good enough reasons to laugh. You are lucky you found yours.
Sonal Kalra has read somewhere that laughing five times a day makes you lose weight. It's not a joke. She's very, very serious.
Mail your calmness tricks at sonal.kalra@hindustantimes.com or on Facebook at facebook.com/sonalkalra13 Follow her on Twitter at twitter.com/sonalkalra.
The Tension-Not calmness trophy this week goes to The girlie gang of Prabhleen Chopra, Gauri Gupta and Ashu Gupta, for bringing their ever so lovable charm to this column's Facebook page; and to Jatin Jamwal for possessing what is perhaps the largest collection of funny jokes and oneliners and sharing it with everyone to spread the joy around.
Loads of calmness your way.
Why so serious?
Why are we guilty about giving in to well-deserved fun? It's time to up the fun quotient in our lives!
Each time someone at office asks me for leave, they look hesitant and guilty. I cannot figure out why, because I have never refused anybody leave. I can see no reason for doing so! Even more surprising, almost always the request is accompanied by, "I will do some extra stories before I go on leave…"
That leaves me amused as well as foxed. Why would anyone wish to work extra hard before they leave for fun? Wouldn't they rather unwind and get into the mood for holiday? But then, when it is time for me to take leave, I find myself doing the same! Working extra hard, trying to smooth over creases that haven't appeared yet, stayingconnected not just till the last minute but even in the car or plane on my way out, till I am physically pulled away from the laptop and Blackberry by my family!
Not only are we guilty about our own holidays, we also grudge others theirs. As soon as a prominent politician or bureaucrat proceeds on a holiday, we start hearing murmurs of how the country is in such a dire strait and all our leaders can do is holiday (that too probably on public exchequer)! No sooner does a Bollywood star travel abroad than we start hearing gossip about who has accompanied him and how he will certainly announce abreak-up with his current partner soon as he returns!
Fun is somehow just not ingrained into our system, nor is it accorded avalued place in our cultural ethos. Duty and responsibility take precedence over everything else. Enjoyment is an excess we are taught to do without. Our epics extol the virtues of duty. All characters go through hardships and are never shown having fun, almost as if greatness must meet vicissitudes! Watch any television serial. Each one has elders frowning upon youngsters who attempt to step out from within the family fold for a meal outside, to watch a film, or to go off on a holiday. "Aisa toh kabhi nahi hota hamare yahan" is the constant refrain. The entire effort seems to be focused on not letting anyone break away from set moulds and the call of duty, not even for a short while, lest they be enticed away forever!
Years ago on a visit to Australia, I visited an international magazine office one Friday afternoon only to find it deserted by all except the editor with whom I had an appointment. Seeing my surprise, she smiled and said, "Friday afternoon!" There seemed to be an explanation as well as a slight reproach in her voice. I was told later that I had done the unthinkable by fixing to meet her when I did.
Later, stepping out, I realised that most of Sydney was already in holiday mode, with shirtless men lounging in the sun outside bars, guzzling beer. So, Aussies, beer and Bermudas was no stereotype, I remember thinking and smiling. Come Friday afternoon and the country breaks into holiday mode! Afriend visiting UK last month, wrote to me with a wistful note, "Everyone here lays down their pens, metaphorically speaking, on Friday afternoons and is out enjoying themselves and celebrating the approaching weekend! Why are we so serious in India?"
Yes, why are we so serious? We smile where other cultures guffaw; we talk softly and hesitantly, while others express their opinions in loud, confident tones, and we tread carefully where others stride ahead. Back home of course Fridays are always Frydays, when we work extra hard and extra-long hours to make up for the coming weekend. We are all so guilty of claiming our pleasures!
Blame it on genetic coding or the struggles of a developing nation where nobody can take their status for granted without working for it, but we have never been taught to unwind and relax. In developed countries, people are encouraged to follow their hearts. Add to that our belief in the cycle of birth and rebirth, believing our next life depends on the good karma we garner in this one, and most of us don't want to fritter away that chance of a better next life!
I believe the art of balance is all in every sphere of life. If we are able to balance the fun quotient in our lives as against duties and responsibilities, how could we go wrong? Of course, we need to understand that the opposite of 'fun' isn't 'work'; it's monotony or boredom! Work could be fun too for many. And, the situation seems to be changing for today's youngsters. A generation that uses peers as role models rather than their elders and epics. Connected as they are through social networks with like-minded people across the world, they are more open about their choices, refusing to be limited by parental pressures and demands. They carve out a time for work and a time for fun, and are clear where the two converge and diverge. A perfect balance between work and fun. Maybe soon we will all start becoming less prissy about our fun quotient?!
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