Cola Anyone?

A friend sent me the following joke.

A salesman of a Cola company returns from his Middle East assignment.
A friend asked, "Why weren't you successful with the Arabs?"
The salesman explained, "When I got posted in the Middle East, I was very confident that I would do well as Cola is virtually unknown there. But, I had a problem. I don't know Arabic. So, I planned to convey the message through three posters...
First poster: A man lying in the hot desert sand...totally exhausted.
Second poster: The man is drinking our Cola.
Third poster: The man is now totally refreshed.
And then these posters were pasted all over the place.
"It should have worked!" said the friend.
"The hell it should have!” said the salesman. I didn't realize that Arabs read from right to left"

I commented that the salesman had told the truth, inadvertently!

I came across this article a few days ago.

Here is the gist of the article.

Colas have never been known as being healthy. Cola consumption leads to caries, bone loss, diabetes and problems with metabolism. But the evidence is building that excessive consumption of cola can lead to Hypokalemia - low levels of Potassium in the blood - which can cause life-threatening muscle paralysis, says Moses Elisaf, an intern at the University in Greece’s Ioannina.

Cases of excessive cola consumption are not isolated. The per capita cola consumption in the US is a whopping 212 liters.

Here is some more in English.

Who is Taking Whom for a Ride?

I am a bit of a board reader. Mark the spelling. It is b-o-a-r-d, not b-o-r-e-d.

I have been an Indian Oil customer for a long time. I have no idea why. I always look for an Indian Oil bunk to buy petrol.

Recently, the advertisement boards in the regular Indian Oil bunk that I go to caught my eye, especially, the parts of the advertisement boards in kannaDa, or at least, what is supposed to be kannaDa.

Look at these pictures. When did for (ಫಾರ್) become kannaDa? One particular word ichidana (ಇಚಿದನ) was perplexing. That is a word that I had not come across. Kittel was consulted. The revered Reverend did not know it either. Then the bulb went on. The word is indhana - (ಇಂಧನ) - fuel!

Now who is the culprit here? The advertising agency? The translator the ad agency hired to get the English copy into kannaDa? The man who composed it on a computer for printing? On the whole, IOCL has been taken for a ride. What is the use of an advertisement if no one understands it? More so, no one CAN understand it.

Should I have second thoughts about continuing to be a loyal IOCL customer? I am still thinking. Not just because I do not like a language being mutilated like this. If a company has such scant respect for details . . .

I will mail the link to this post to the head honchos of Corporate Communications and Marketing of IOCL. I wonder what they will do.

Now "enjoy" the pictures below:

EkAMtate is a noun form of the noun EkAMta!


ಫಾರ್! That is a good one. jenuvin and aayil! Great!

ichidana!

Are they selling fuel and oil or are they selling a skin cream like Itchguard?

Now, what does that mean. Definitely not the kannaDa version of the English copy below it!

Anti-Blogging

The former (thank you) president of the US of A George Bush divided the world into two camps. His notoriously dumb "Either you are with us or against us" seems to have caught on, however. By that world view this post must be classified as the name suggests.

I read an interview in German with a successfull authoress about blogging. She is swearing off blogs because of her own reasons. When I talked about this to Shruthi, she asked me if I could translate it for her and here I am. It is not a very good translation, but, all the important things are there.

So, here you go Shruthi!

Atheists' Call

I recently translated an article from German.

The gist: Most holidays in Germany are Christian holidays. There is a demand for a non-Christian holiday! You can read the full (practically) text here.

Disclaimer: The text is not well edited. I may do it over time but it has all the important facts.

Older? Yes. Wiser? . . .

Some time ago, I had a full head of hair. Ah! English is funny. Imagine my head with hair where the brain should be!!

"Some time ago" has a comforting ring to it. Does not reveal how long ago it was. I have to admit that it was a long time ago, anyway.

Somewhere along the line, I started losing hair. But, I did not lose sleep about it because I had lots of it, hair I mean. Losing sleep would only make things worse perhaps. No? Definitely, my hair line was receding. Being an optimist, I thought "less hair to comb" - in contrast, a pessimist would have thought "more face to wash" as the old joke goes.

One summer evening, it started raining, suddenly. Typical summer showers. Huge drops of water hit my head. As I was hurrying towards the nearest shelter, I heard some funny noises close by. Really close. I realised with shock that it was the sound of the water hitting my head. How could that be? What was all the hair doing? I was used to my hair getting wet with the scalp still dry. Of course, that is an exaggeration but not by much.

That evening when I reached home, I looked at the back of my head with the help of two mirrors to find that I had a bald patch where the whorl used to be. Oh ho! But, who cares. If you are bald, you are bald. So?

Continuing the hairy story the next unkind cut was that my moustache started greying. Not the hair on my head. My barber was sympathetic. He asked a question. How is it that the hair that is some fifteen years younger has started greying when the hair on the head is still black? He answered his own question. It is like the "modern" generation. Not very tough . . .

Over time, the moustache got greyer and greyer. Someone asked me why I did not dye it. I said, "I would rather die than dye" and was feeling pretty pleased about my wordplay when I was asked, "Then, why do you dye your hair?" Me? Dye my hair? Oh no. I had to pick out the few hairs that were grey on my head and show them that I did, in fact, not dye.

With all this, I still felt young. I believed (and still believe) in the adage: Age is a question of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it does not matter. I don't mind. (Proof? Here it is: Not long ago some six of us, colleagues, were in the Netherlands for three months. I was the only one who went out every weekend, come rain (almost always) or shine (the remaining time), and saw a lot of places. The others were either tired, or not interested. I was the oldest of the six. QED)

In spite of the bald patch, now larger, and a grey moustache, now trimmed so short that it is like the Tundra from the earlier Amazon basin, when some PYT called me uncle I looked around to see who was being addressed and then found that I was the only one around! By the time I was getting used to this came a kick you know where. We were in Tekkadi and there was this lady having trouble with an incessantly crying child. I have a way with children, other than my own of course, and tried to distract this crying child. And the ingrate of a mother crooned to the baby "ahhh ha! Look at Granpa!" I almost stomped out. I stayed and continued my attempts to distract the child, but you bet, my heart was not in it.

Then came the unkindest cut of them all. Tutty Fruity, my dear niece, had Puttachi. And now I am a tAta - gran'pa, officially. That is Ta Ta to my illusions of youth.

Pssst: But when no one is watching, or for that matter even when many are watching, I continue to be myself.

Ready for Tomorrow?

Reading a news paper is a health hazard. Mental health, I mean.

Violence from all over the world is the staple. Organised, sponsored by governments, conveniently ignored by governments, personal - greed induced, jealousy induced, film inspired . . . the list seems to be unending. Land grabbers, officials taking huge bribes, officials of failed banks and their huge bonuses . .

Fortunately for me, my news paper is delivered at such a time in the morning as I can not read it before I leave for work. Good thing. When I do read the papers, I filter out most of it and read what interests me. Saves a lot of time too.

It is a hard job being a self diagnosed "incurable" optimist in this cynical, violence-ridden world.

Then you come across something like this: Honest Taxi Driver Reaps Rewards.

Ah, I can face tomorrow. All is not lost.

Once an auto(rickshaw) driver drove to my place and returned a bag I and my wife had forgotten in it. Such things must be celebrated. They were celebrated here.

Did you hear about the taxi driver who returned a Stradivarius?

Yes. All is not lost!

German Power

Have you seen the advertisement for Hyundai i10 on TV, in which Mr. Khan proves (or so we are expected to believe?) that power is not inversely proportional to speed?

Or this site?

Since when did we start specifying power in PS in India? Or should the question be, why have we not stopped using HP as the unit of power in India? PS is short for Pferdestärke - Horse Power, in German.

And why are we still using HP even though we are officially done with the archaic HP as unit of power?

Do we lack Horse sense? Or is it only that I do not have it and do not know why?

Julia Lermontova

I visited Göttingen recently and spent a weekend there. Visiting Göttingen was a dream come true. After reading about it, for instance in “Brighter than a Thousand Suns”, I had a mental image of it which was clearer than that of places I have seen. But, as it often happens, when a dream does come true you feel that the dream was better. Is it the same phenomenon as the “The book was better”? After all the “the book” is not the book but the image you have of it (or its contents) in your mind! Chew on it. In any case, I was prepared for this and hence had a grand time.


Göttingen has memorials of many greats who lived there at some tome or the other. Benjamin Franklin and Goethe who spent just a month there. The very fact that so many great scientists lived there is the reason for the fascination with the place. I referred to my visit to Göttingen as a pilgrimage, almost sheepishly. After my return, browsing through the net for some missing information, I came across a site of a Japanese scientist who had called his visit to the place pilgrimage too. Ah, that is better. In any case, I posted the pictures of my visit to Göttingen and called the album Shree Kshetra Göttingen.


(As an aside, while talking to my sister about Wimbledon some time ago, I referred to it too as Shree Kshetra Wimbledon. Unfortunately I only passed through the Wimbledon Railway Station in 1985 but never made a proper “pilgrimage”. In a similar vein, I undertook a pilgrimage to Shree Kshetra Heidelberg once. Coincidentally, I passed the village where Boris Becker was born, one of the tennis greats who made SK Wimbledon his abode for a while, on my way to Heidelberg)


With that brief preamble/prologue/tangent/digression let me come to the main reason for starting this post. Julia Lermontova.


There is a plaque on a building commemorating the fact that she lived in that place when she was in Göttingen. Julia who? Lermontova who? Well that was my reaction too.


(Let me admit that this was my reaction to the name Lichtenberg too, which, in hindsight, is unpardonable for an electronics engineer with an interest in biographies of scientists)


But the name Lermontova (Spelt Lermontowa in German) did ring a bell, but, the wrong one. I remembered that there is a famous Russian called Lermontov. But who Lermontov was and what he did to earn his fame, I had no idea. Interestingly the only thing I remembered about him was his portrait - if I am not mistaken, in the magazine Soviet Land, but of course there is no way to confirm it. In any case, I learnt later that he was one of the greatest Romantic poets of Russia. Not unlike Galois, Lermontov died in a duel at the age of 27. This is a tragic thing. Not just the death, which definitely is tragic. The fact that in many cases the circumstances of the death of such people is the only thing we know about them. I can say now that that is all I know about Galois and Lermontov. (To be frank, I know a little more about Galois and his mathematics, even though it is only “journalistic” knowledge.) One more such name is that of van Gogh and that he shot himself and died when 35.


I found that Julia Lermontova was indeed remarkable. So here are two links about her.

Here and here

What a lot of text to put together just two links!

Here is a translation of the text of a commemorative plaque in the Archives of the city of Göttingen.

**********************

Julia Vsevolodovna Lermontova was born on 2. Januar 1847 (According to the Russian calendar in use then, on 21 December, 1846) in St. Petersburg and died on 16 December, 1919 in her ancestral country estate south of Moscow. Because of health problems and the circumstances of her private life she had to give up chemistry when she was 35.

Julia Lermontova is of outstanding importance in the perspective of the history of science in two ways. For one, she can be counted as the pioneer of womens education as she was not only the first one to get a doctorate in Chemistry, but also the first one to graduate according to all the formal requirements. For the other, through her work with the most important chemists of both Germany and Russia she brought together the scientific traditions of both countries and at the same time achieved importance through her own research work in the area of polymerisation.

**************

I also found that Lermontova is mentioned quite often in the articles about her friend and long time companion, Sofia Kovalevskaya. Another remarkable woman!

Credits: The picture of Julia Lermontova and the text of the commemorative plaque are from this site of Dr. Cordula Tollmien, with her kind permission.

Royalty, Cricket and Mobiles

The title of my post reminds me of the name of a Kannada movie - kurubara lakkanoo elijabet raaNiyoo - "The shepherd Lakka and Queen Elizabeth". Perhaps appropriate.

Whenever I see the signs of Britain's preoccupation or fascination with their royalty, "we were amused" oops, I mean, I am amused. Their monarch reigns over a country where the sun almost never rises having once reigned over an empire on which the sun never set. Well he does rise but is obscured by the clouds, most of the time.

My amusement itself amused me because I myself belong to a country where royalty is not even officially recognised any more and we are still fascinated with it. The privy purses they were entitled to was abolished in 1969? But we too are still fascinated by our former royalty.

I was once incenced that the Deccan Herald referred to Srikantha Dutta Narasimha Raja Wodeyar (the son of the erstwhile maharaja of Mysore) as the "Raja himself". The papers and tabloids refer to an actor, the son of a former Nawab as the Chote Nawab. Nawab of what? Bollywood bunkum? There are many politicians who contest elections under the name of Maharani so-and-so and such. 60+ years after gaining independence from the biggest imperial force of the times should have made us immune to royalty. But alas, it has not!

The latest instance of our preoccupation with royalty is evident in the names of the teams of IPL. Royal Challenger, Super Kings, Kings XI (Roman numerals, for chrissake!). The most ridiculous is the Knight Riders. The only (k)night we ever knew was the long night of the British rule.

So being completely democratic I have decided to support only those teams which do not have a royal name. That leaves Mumbai Indians, Delhi Daredevils and Deccan Chargers. Which one of them should be my favourite?

Mumbai has usurped the title Indians. If there was another team with the name Indians attached to it, I would not have minded. So, Mumbai is out. Daredevils. I don't care all that much for daredevilry, so Delhi is out. That leaves the Deccan Chargers.

Now here is a name that is truly pan Indian - even though The Deccan itelf is not. We are neither a very equestrian nation nor do we have a great cavalry tradition. So, the only charger we know is the battery charger. It appears to me that the whole of India is preoccupied with mobile phones. Someone recently wrote that in India there appears to be an unwritten law which goes like "Thou shalt answer the call on your mobile, even if you are at a wedding and it is your own" Next to the phone itself, the most important gadget is the charger.

So Deccan Chargers it shall be that I support!

Puttachi Chronicles - Jag's Chapter

You have to go here for Puttachi Central.

I went to Puttachi's place and gave her a small present. A (stuffed toy) rabbit I bought in Aachen. She loved it.

She was more fascinated by the silk band on the rabbit than the rabbit itself.

When I was leaving her home, her father told Puttachi that she should return the rabbit to me. I was astounded when Puttachi ran in seriously, picked the rabbit up and offered it to me!

When I told her that it was, in fact, her own, she shook her head vehemently and wanted me to take it back. I had to convince her that I had bought it just for her and hence she should have it.

Amazing kid!

Disabled Friendly

Can you guess what the equipment which looks like an ATM is?

This is a device for people on wheel chairs to seek help in the Charels de Gaulle airport, Paris.

A wheelchair-bound person navigates his wheelchair to the machine and presses a button. The blue and white pad on the floor senses if there is really someone at the machine, a camera sends the image of the person someplace and within minutes there is someone to escort the wheelchair-bound person to wherever she/he wants to go in the airport. Very efficient. Very disabled-freindly.

India is supposed to have 70 million disabled people. They are mostly invisible. What is more, it is said that until the 2001 census their number was not even known!

As far as I can see, ours is a very disabled-unfriendly country. Try taking a wheelchair-bound person to a movie in Bangalore and you will know.

Even though, in terms of facilities, we are disabled unfriendly, I should say that the amount of pesonal help rendered by people is staggering. All you have to do is ask. Since most of our disabled are invisible, most people in public places are unaware of how to deal with them. But once you request them and tell them what to do, what you can get done is staggering.

And staggeringly touching and heart warming.

What the people in power have neglected is compensated for by the ever obliging public. Many even look as if you have done them a favour after helping you, instead of the other way around.

Makes me feel that ours is a terrible country manned by a terrific people.

But, the fact remains that a disabled person should feel no need to seek help to lead a normal life. It should be his for the taking, not for the asking.

Blogging in Kannada

It continues to be a painful experience to blog in kannaDa.

I love blogging

I love Blogger and what it offers me.

But Blogger's kannaDa transliteration drives my crazy.

I have been using the transilteration used by baraha and it appears to me to be the most complete tool developed for writing in kannaDa. I do not understand why blaagar I mean blogger cannot just integrate baraha into it and make my life easier? Does anyone know how I could tell Blogger about this?

The silliest thing is that I can write kannaDa properly in kannaDa in blogger. That is the least one could expect. Is anyone from Blogger listening to this cry of frustration?

It used to amuse me no end that the spelling check of Blogger did not know blog, blogging and Blogger. Now it does! It still does not know Blogger's!

This gives me some hope.

Does anyone know how we can help Blogger do a better job of this?

I am waiting, hopefully not for Godot!

Attention to Detail

I came across a board while driving to Ramanagara from Bengaluru. On the way back, I stopped to photograph it. It is an advertisement for a college of management and there is a spelling error in the board.

My further comments are in kannaDa - Here.

Five weeks at Aachen

Here are some of my favourite pictures from my visit to Aachen and the stay of five weeks there. I uploaded the pictures in chronological order and ended up having them in the reverse chronological order. It should not really matter to you as you can see them as individual pictures. I have provided a brief description of each. Here you go!

This is the statue of Gänseliesel. One of the symbols of the city of Göttingen. The city is also called the city of science (Stadt der Wissenschaft) to which title, Aachen also lays a claim. Gänseliesel - loosely translated as Liesel with geese is called the most kissed girl in the world because the tradition in Göttingen is that a new doctorate from the university has to kiss this girl!

Visiting Göttingen was a long standing ambition of mine because of the seated man in the picture of the sculpture above - Gauss - a man who needs no introduction. The standing man is Weber. I felt that it is "blasphemous" that someone has placed a can of coke or red bull in Gauss' hand! I tried in vain to dislodge it before taking the picture. It originally held a (representation of) a copper wire, now lost. The locals call this statue, "It is not fair, you should let me sit too" or some such thing!

This is the grave of Gauss. Next to it is the grave of another great scientist Gmelin.

I call this picture the Bidige (The second day of the lunar fortnight) Chandra (Moon) from Göttingen. I happened to be there on the day after Yugadi (one of the many Hindu New Years days) and the clear sky after a very rainy day was too tempting not to shoot this.

This is another symbol of Göttingen. The towers of this church St. Johns Church are dissimilar. Viewed in brilliant evening sun after the very rainy day. It is the oldetst of the Göttingen churches - originally built in the 15th century. (I have not found out the reason why the towers are dissimilar, yet)

During my stay in Aachen, I stayed in an apartment in Burtscheid. Burtscheid was once a separate village and is now a part of Aachen. The picture of the church of St. Johann (John the Baptist), was shot from the window of the drawing room of my apartment.

A sunset in Aachen. I was returning home after shopping for some food and this was what I saw, from Eupener Straße. One end of this road, meets Weisshausstraße and at the junction is was my office.

The first time I saw frost. A rainy day, followed by a very clear night, the temperature dropped, the dew froze and . .

This is a wall made of trimmed trees. This was in a place called Kalterherberg (Cold Hostel - literally). Trees are planted very close to each other and repeatedly trimmed to make walls out of them. You can see doors and windows cut in them too, Very popular in the region.


A statue on the streetside, in Burtscheid.

Moonrise seen from a small alley called Soldatengässchen (Soldiers' alley) on the way from my office to my apartment.

Fresh overnight snow. I had only seen fallen snow - like this and far thicker too earlier. But never - falling snow. Aachen provided me an opportunity. It was raining - at about 9:30 in the morning and I looked up from my monitor and it was snowing. Got out of the office to the car park in the basement and shot some stills and shot clips too.


This is an interesting device. You can see such contraptions at the doors of many old houses. It is for scraping caked mud off your shoes when you return home on a rainy day. Perhaps nowadays this is no longer of any use in cities - with excellent roads and pavements.

A piece of streetside art on a street in Aachen. This was perhaps erected during an equestrian meet held in Aachen years ago. The horse looks as if it is in a cage but there is no gap between the horse and the vertical bars.

Near the Soldatengässchen mentioned above, is a Kindergarten. Quite a few posters were hung on its fence - all with the same message. The inscription reads "This is no toilet of dogs" to ward off dog walkers using the fence for the mentioned purpose. Looked effective too. Graphic graphics, apparently made by the students of the Kidnergarten!


The drawing room of my apartment and the window from which I shot the church of St. Johann. So this was home for five weeks full of learning.

Away at Aachen

People who know me, find it difficult to believe that I have been "silent" - in terms of blog posts, that is - since February 24, 2009 - that is 7+ weeks.The reason for my silence is that I was in Aachen, Germany. I was being mentored there in the art of drafting patent applications. It was a time for serious learning and I enjoyed it. I had a grand time personally too.

Off office hours I had no access to the net and hence I could not blog. My mentor told me that once I start drafting patent applications, writing for pleasure, like blogging for instance, may feel different. Patent applications are documents written to secure a legal right on inventions - Interllectual Property. Achieving that purpose is paramount and the beauty of composition is the first casualty!

Charles Darwin found that writing the Origin of Species ruined his ability to enjoy literature. My earlier job involved reading patent documents and other technical literature. That did spoil my pleasure of reading literature - especailly pulp (Oxymoron?)! I do sincerely hope that patent application drafting won't spoil the pleasure of writing for pleasure!

Pardon me for talking about myself in the same paragraph mentioning Darwin. No comparisons intended. (Even if it was intended, who would believe it anyway)

Some say that his magnum opus actually contains some really lucid and beautiful prose, though! I have the book but I have not progressed beyond the first ten pages. One day . .

In any case, the camera I bought for the purpose of digitally recording my trip to Aachen has done its job well. I will post them in the next post and the rest of them on Picasa.

Spring in the Air - 2

I had celebrated the arrival of spring with some pictures last year too also. The difference is that this time the camera is my own!

I am preparing to go to Germany for a month and one of the first things I did was to buy a camera! A Sony Cyber-shot DSC W210. I am yet to get used to it - having done all my earlier photography with a Canon T70. Here are some of the first results. Hopefully, more will follow before I leave, in about a week and of better quality than these.

Rain trees with new leaves. N R Colony, Near Nettakallappa Circle

Yellow flowers in bloom. Botanically oriented may please supply the name of the tree. These are to be seen on the from National College to Gayana Samaja.

Spring in the Air

Don't say "Why should I?" like in the joke by George Mikes famous for his impossibly hilarious books such as "How to be an Alien" and "How to be decadent"!

This picture is to celebrate the arrival of Vasanta - Spring - in Bangalore.

This tree in full bloom, is jut around the corner from my home.

Anti-Superstition

At last there is one advertisement to cheer about.

The ICICI Prudential advertisement makes some remark about the futility of adding letters to your name. Kkaran, in this case.

After Jayalalithaa and Yeddiyoorappa successes, perhaps this madness had gained in strength!

So, this advertisement is a welcome change.

Gandhi and Madonna

I am sure that the title is catchy enough. But there is a reason for this title, other than an effort to make it catchy. At least, I did not put Madonna before Gandhi!

The Saturday issue of Deccan Herald carried two small news items. I had missed them and Jayanth Laxman, a friend who could always be relied on to bring such things to my notice, did bring them to my attention.

One said that a nude photograph of Madonna fetched some 37,500 dollars in an auction.

Right below this piece of information was the report that Gandhi's memorablia - sandals, watch, glasses, etc. will be auctioned soon and is expected to fetch 20,000 to 30,000 dollars.

No comments.

The Land of Kamasutra!

I should perhaps write this in my Blog Peripatetica as it concerns an incident from my not so frequent travels. But the context is here and now.

In front of the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris I came across the most unusual description of India.

There used to be a perfumes seller in front of the famed cathedral. He had a donkey kart filled with all kinds of perfumes. This ‘caricature’ of a Frenchman spoke several languages, flirted with all his women customers blatantly but charmingly. I watched his performance for a while and when my turn came (yes there is a queue in front of so humble a shop) I told him what i wanted. As he was preparing my order, he asked me, with a twinkle in his eyes: “Where are you from, Sir?”

“India”, I said.

He stopped his preparations and raised his hands in the air and looked heavenwards with reverence on his face, “Aaaah! The land of the Kamasutra!”. If he had mathematical bent, he would have said, “Aaaah! The land of zero!”, perhaps. Since he was an admirer of the ‘gentler’ sex, as evident by his flirting, it had to be Kamasutra, I guess.

If this happened today, what would he say? I wonder.

“Oh no, the land of the Kamasutra that does not tolerate public kissing?”

"Oh no, the land of Kamasutra that does not like Valentine’s day?"

No, I will not provide a link to that one. Why publicise something that craves just that?

I do not like Valentine’s day, which is just a commerce driven event that destroys the environment – with all the cards that are exchanged. The suspicion is that this is a non-event made big by the greeting card industry – as is often claimed.

But ban it? Threaten the couples with dire consequences – like marriage for instance!!!!?

Amreekandesi took objections to calling the happenings in Mangalore Talibanisation. I wonder if he will change his opinion, after this. Taliban imposed strict “Islamic behaviour” before it could get that kind of power. Men should have beards, women should be in Purdah, etc., and punished the offenders brutally. That was the first step.

A character in James Michener’s “Caravans”, set in Afghanistan, says something like, “Don’t give power to the mullahs. It will ruin the country.” It really does not matter if it is a Mullah or a priest in any other garb, power mixed with religion is ruinous.

I hope that we, as a nation, are better or luckier.