The white woman’s burden

Sir — Amit Roy’s gushing account of Margaret Thatcher’s visit to the Memorial Gates — to honour those Indian soldiers who died in the two world wars — filled me with despair (“Maggie homage to martyrs”, Nov 10). Here is another Indian going gaga over a memsahib’s token gesture. Thatcher was an imperialist who believed that the British have every right to rule the world. Perhaps Thatcher was at the war memorial not out of respect for the soldiers but because she supposes that the natives had done their duty by fighting for their British masters.

Yours faithfully,
Aroup Chatterjee, London

Good old days

Sir— I was overwhelmed by Mukul Kesavan’s article, “The god machine” (Nov 8). It seemed to speak my mind. I would like to introduce myself as a gramophone record collector and a connoisseur of music. My prized record player is the god I worship everyday. The voices of famous European singers or of Indian maestros like Gauharjan, Abdul Karim Khan, Harimoti and others sound divine when I hear them today on my vinyl discs.

Much like Kesavan, I find myself at a loss in a world where CDs and DVDs have overtaken the vinyl. The solidity of the “large black platters”, as Kesavan describes the records, has given way to featherweight, silver-coloured CDs, which measure the breadth of one’s palm. Grooves have turned into invisible binary digits. MP3s may be portable and may accommodate hundreds of songs, but will they prove to be as durable and dependable as the vinyl records? Can they produce the same quality of sound after, say, hundred years, in the way the gramophone records do?

Our country stopped producing records many years ago. With this, the culture related to the collection and playing of records died an easy death. This is shameful because vinyl records still coexist with CDs and DVDs in the West. Unlike us, the West has not forgotten the art of savouring the sight and sound of the revolving black platter, even if they have to pay a higher price for it.

However, I do not mourn as much as Kesavan the disappearance of the bound volumes of the Encyclopaedia Britannica. The sight of a room stuffed wall-to-wall with the bound and embossed volumes might be enticing, but it is a sight only the wealthy can take delight in. I am thankful to the internet and DVDs for bringing the Britannica within the reach of the petit bourgeoisie.

Yours faithfully,
Ashis Bhadra, Calcutta

Sir— It is quite depressing to think of the way the personal computer has taken hold of and changed our lives overnight. It has given rise to a generation of youngsters who no longer want to visit friends, talk to relatives or interact with teachers. They would ‘chat’ silently with friends on the internet rather than meet them in person. They would search the internet for information instead of visiting libraries. The easy availability of information has taken away the pleasures and rewards of acquiring knowledge the difficult way. It has created a generation of bad-tempered young men and women who are no longer satisfied with anything.

Yours faithfully,
Dwaipayan Adhya, Calcutta

Sir— In his list of new appliances used today, Mukul Kesavan has forgotten the mobile phone. It is among the worst of these inventions and brings out the worst in people. Mobile-users walk the streets blindly, gesticulate madly and shout at the top of their voices. Seeing these demented creatures, I long for the good old dial-in phone sets that stood with quiet dignity in drawing rooms and rang with a sweet ‘tring-tring’.

Yours faithfully,
Ravindra Kumar,Calcutta