Dheeraj Kalgutkar

On Monday Congress led United Progressive Alliance government breathed sigh of relief as they succeeded in passing landmark Food Security Bill touted as UPA chairperson Sonia Gandhi's dream project in lower house of parliament. The Food Security Scheme aimed at providing food grain to whopping 82 crore people of India who fall below poverty line at the cost of Rs. 1,30,000 crore will be largest of its kind in the world. The bill will guarantee 5kg of rice, wheat and coarse cereals per month per person at a fixed price of Rs. 3, 2, 1 respectively. Price can be revised every 3 years. To realise a scheme of its calibre govt would require 62 million tonnes of food grains at its disposal but given the state of our godowns and ill storage one will doubt regarding its success. At a time when no day goes with reportage of grain-drain in rainy scum or stills of rotten grains in open storage across nation, anyone would be interested enough to know how this game-changer schem

For failure is never an end but a beginning of promising tomorrow. "Every test in our life makes us bitter or better,  every problem comes to break us or make us. The choice is ours, whether to become a Victim or a Victor!" Between vast number of books, theories, plans & re-plans on 'how to succeed' lies our story crushed in a mess where success seems impossible to attain and failure gripping to overhaul. Eventually everything from theory to master-plan comes to a point where nothing except failure seems working to cling us. But then is it really possible to kiss success each time we set out to attain the same? Do destiny has any role to play or is there any master-stroke to hug success each time we battle out for! I don't find any, nor do I expect any of such stroke to exist. While I strongly believe at times 'defeat' is the utter necessity more so than the 'sweet lullaby of success'. 'How' is the key for a life filled wit

In a powerful account posted on CNN iReport under the username RoseChasm, Michaela Cross highlights what India of today offers to visitors apart the sheer brilliance of its natural colors. She like many others visited India for what she had heard from others about this culturally vibrant and deeply rooted in ancient ethics country for study trip from Chicago University but what followed later on is classic tale of misplaced adventures and dready encounters females face in every corners of this ancient nation. Followed here is her account of misery and known-but-untold tale of India... Michaela Cross during merry times. When people ask me about my experience studying abroad in India, I always face the same dilemma. How does one convey the contradiction that over the past few months has torn my life apart, and convey it in a single succinct sentence? “India was wonderful," I go with, "but extremely dangerous for women.” Part of me dreads the follow-up questions, a

Dear Manmohan Singh, It was nice to see you in glass cubicle at Red Fort from where Prime Minister of this largest democracy address its citizens on the occasion of Independence day. I wondered primarily what in the name of god you were doing there! Isn't it supposed to be Prime Minister of India who shall address the gathering of people who sit there? May be madam ji had problems with her script or was it the fear of Narendra Modi that kept her away... I believe it's the later one as Singh saab too was reading from a neatly written placard rather from his mind. Sorry, sorry sir, I simply forgot; mind is meant for clever, decisive people! Why would someone who listens blindly to dumb orders need that stuff in one's head? Makes sense! Sir, my apologies to you. I never bothered to listen into what you try to decipher from that secure cubicle. Are you feared regarding your life on Indian soil, sir? But why? Don't we roam on streets equipped with nothing, y