June 07, 2025
June 03, 2025
Boiling Point
This would have been sometime in 1993 when I was working in the Computer Services Department of Tata Steel in Jamshedpur. We had, after considerable effort, finally developed and delivered the rather unimaginatively named Jamshedpur Information System. This was a fairly comprehensive and integrated computer system that stored and processed commercial information -- Maintenance, Accounts, Marketing, Production/Operations, HR -- in a DB2 database on an IBM ES/9000 system running MVS. In hindsight, we might have been better off implementing SAP, but that is hindsight -- and SAP was hardly known in India then.
I had been very closely associated with the design and development of this system as the head of the database administration function -- one of the elite corps of systems programmers -- and had even travelled to the IBM training facility in Sydney, where I spent seven weeks learning about this new platform.
Unfortunately, the system we developed was not as fault-free as management would have liked and was occasionally quite slow. This meant we were often fire-fighting to ensure that the critical operations of the plant weren’t too adversely affected. At some point, things got so bad that our Divisional Manager, Akhil Pandey, was effectively humiliated by having our department merged with another -- Automation -- led by Dipankar Sengupta, a favourite of the Managing Director, Dr. J.J. Irani. Just before or after the merger, Dr. Irani called a meeting of all CSD officers to understand what had gone wrong. Mr. Pandey was specifically debarred from attending, as the general view was that he was the one who had messed things up -- which, to be fair, was not entirely accurate. Yes, he had his coterie of sycophants, but such politics existed in every department. Dr. Irani had been told that without Mr. Pandey’s presence, the junior engineers would speak more candidly.
The meeting was well attended by all CSD officers. I won’t go into all that transpired -- mostly because I’ve forgotten much of it -- but I do remember that Dr. Irani was quite critical of our work and said so bluntly, to our discomfort and dismay. Then he said -- and I quote from memory -- “I thought I was hiring racehorses in this department, but now I see I have donkeys.”
Though I doubt he meant it personally, I felt that this was directed at me, since Dr. Irani had personally intervened to get me employed at Tata Steel (that’s another story). My blood boiled. My anger surged.
And then I did something unthinkable in Tata Steel’s rigid hierarchy. I stood up from my seat and publicly asked him to take back his words.
There was pin-drop silence. No one could believe a junior officer had spoken so directly to the Managing Director -- and in public. But to everyone’s amazement, and to Dr. Irani’s eternal credit, he actually did.
Dr. J.J. Irani, the MD and highest-ranking executive of Tata Steel, publicly apologized for calling us donkeys and took back his words. He remained highly critical of our work -- but now used more polite language.
After the meeting, our department was split in two. A handful of my colleagues quietly congratulated me for taking a stand, but most kept their distance, wary of repercussions and eager to remain uninvolved. But the outcome was both unexpected and dramatic.
Soon after, I was promoted to Assistant Divisional Manager and given a plum assignment as Executive Assistant to Dr. C.V. Kamath, AGM (Scientific Services), in the office of Mr. K.C. Mehra, the Executive Director (Operations). One of my jobs? Writing speeches for -- guess who -- Mr. J.J. Irani!
1999 or 2000. A luxurious Taj resort in Goa.
I had just been admitted to the partnership at PricewaterhouseCoopers, and we were attending a Partner-Managers meeting in Goa. It was great fun. Partners and senior managers gave presentations on various topics, and I -- as the leader of the e-Business group -- spoke about this new, fast-growing domain. Globally, PwC was making major strides in e-Business, and my presentation was well received. Many senior partners -- for whom this technology was still quite new -- complimented me.
Beyond the presentations, there was amazing food -- Taj hospitality at its best -- and on the beach, under the moonlight, there was beer, music, and more, all to the tune of Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water.
While e-Business was the hot topic, our core revenue came from the SAP practice, where PwC was the clear national and global leader. In India, our biggest client was ONGC, the public-sector giant. As part of our “keep the client happy” ritual, Roopen Roy, head of the Management Consulting practice, had invited Subir Raha, the Chairman and Managing Director of ONGC, to speak on “anything appropriate” -- and of course enjoy the hospitality.
So, one evening -- post-dinner but pre-Bacchanalia -- the one-and-only Subir Raha took the podium to share his wisdom on “what it means to be a consultant.”
Frankly, aside from Roopen and a few partners directly involved with the ONGC project, most of us had little interest in his remarks. Still, professional courtesy required us to attend in full strength and listen politely.
I don’t remember much of what he said. What I do remember is that he was extremely -- and brutally -- critical of consultants in general and, by clear implication, of PwC consultants in particular. According to him, consultants knew nothing. They learned from the client’s staff, repackaged that knowledge, and sold it back as “advice.” It was damning stuff. What surprised me more was how my senior partners quietly absorbed the tirade like it was a Kishore Kumar song.
But I was different. Once again, a direct insult to me, my colleagues, and my profession sent my blood boiling. I was seated in the front row, flanked by two senior colleagues. I stood up. One of them gasped. The other tried to pull me down -- but I was already on my feet.
“Mr. Raha, may I interrupt you for a second?”
A PSU CMD isn’t used to being interrupted, so despite his arrogance, he didn’t quite know how to respond. Had it been me, I would have politely asked to be allowed to finish -- but he simply grunted something like “OK.” That was all the opening I needed.
To my immense surprise, I didn’t raise my voice.
“Mr. Raha, before becoming a consultant at PwC, I worked at Tata Steel,” -- though I didn’t say that I was in the Computer Services department; I let him remain unsure. “There, I had the opportunity to visit the collieries in Jamadoba and West Bokaro.” The exact names cemented my credibility with the audience. I continued, “And there, sir, a mine sardar once gave me a great piece of advice. Would you like to hear what he said?”
He was too stunned to respond, so I pressed on.
“साहब, कोयला जब तक ज़मीन के नीचे दबा रहता है, तब तक उसकी कोई क़ीमत नहीं होती। लेकिन वही कोयला जब हम लोग जान तोड़ मेहनत करके बाहर निकालते हैं, तब वो बहुत महँगा बिकता है।”
(No one had actually said this to me. My Hindi was weak, but the line came to me on the spot. The message was clear: knowledge buried in an organisation is worthless until we -- the consultants -- extract it and turn it into something valuable.)
I didn’t need to explain further. PwC partners and managers are all very smart people. They got the point. The room erupted in a loud round of applause and cheers.
One of their own had just delivered a solid punch to the arrogant nose of someone who had been insulting them all evening -- and they loved it.
Raha, of course, was stunned -- not just by my words, but by the enthusiastic support I received. He had nothing meaningful to say in response. He mumbled something like “I dig it” -- an awkward attempt to be clever -- and quickly ended his speech.
He skipped the late-night festivities, citing an early morning flight -- a clear excuse to avoid further contact with us.
As for ONGC, they did give us a very hard time on the contract. But none of my senior partners ever blamed me for confronting him -- because everyone knew that our own team had, in fact, messed up on the project.
But that, as they say, could be another story.
May 28, 2025
May 27, 2025
Summer of 1979
Fr Hincq was the Principal -- or perhaps the Headmaster? -- of the St. Xavier's Higher Secondary Institution, which was sandwiched both physically and metaphorically between St. Xavier's College and the Collegiate School, from which I had passed my ICSE just a year earlier. He had been especially kind to me ever since he learned that I had been called for the NCERT National Talent Scholarship interview. This stood in sharp contrast to the more well-known Fr Bouche, the famous prefect of SXCS, who had brusquely denied me the annual prize in my final year, simply because I would be away on a family tour of Gujarat. That decision had stung -- I had won a prize every other year -- but Fr Hincq went out of his way to welcome me. In fact, he waived the usual entrance examination so I could attend the NTS interview.
The NTS itself was a story worth telling. My father, Subhrendu Mukerjee, frequently traveled to Delhi on business and brought back science textbooks from the bookshops of Daryaganj -- texts aligned with the NCERT/CBSE syllabus -- to supplement my ICSE materials. These were invaluable during the NTS exam, which was also conducted by NCERT. I qualified for the interview, held at Jadavpur University, and breezed through nearly every question -- except the last one. I was asked what kind of bond was used in hydrocarbons like methane. The question stumped me briefly. After thinking it through, I hazarded a guess: covalent bond. It turned out to be the correct answer. That single word earned me the scholarship -- Rs 200 per month for the next six years.
Back at St. Xavier’s, Fr Hincq also taught us English. From him, I learned something that would serve me well many years later, when I began writing fiction: that beyond plot, an author must vividly describe both characters and settings, so that readers can almost physically sense the world being built. But at that time, my interest lay firmly in science and mathematics, subjects in which I was comfortably ahead of the class. If not for my dismal marks in Bengali -- even after my father hired a tutor, the only one I ever had -- I would likely have topped Class XI. Instead, the well known darling of the "Bengal Board" crowd edged me out by a mark or two. It didn’t matter in the long run, but it rankled.
Even as I explored the mysteries and marvels of science and mathematics -- and consistently topped these subjects -- something else was stirring on the horizon. I had dropped biology, since medicine never interested me, and opted for "Advanced" Physics, Algebra, and -- if I remember correctly -- 3D Coordinate Geometry. Calculus was scheduled for Class XII, but I had already begun studying it on my own using a Mir Publishers book from Russia. My real passion had been ignited by the two volumes of Perelman's Physics for Entertainment, also from Mir. I was, by then, thoroughly immersed in the sciences.
It was around this time that a classmate, Jaideep Sarkar, mentioned something called Agrawal Classes -- a coaching institute in Bombay that helped students prepare for the formidable IIT Joint Entrance Examination. I was already familiar with the IITs and had even visited the one at Kharagpur, where my cousin Piku-da studied. Around then, I discovered a few critical facts. Bengal had transitioned from the 11+5 to the 10+2+3 model, so after Class X, I was now in the first year of the +2 stage -- Class XI. But some states still followed the older system. More significantly, the IITs hadn’t yet shifted from their 5-year undergraduate program to the 4-year version we see today. This meant it was possible to enter IIT after Class XI, without a Higher Secondary pass certificate. While those who completed Class XII could attempt to join directly in the second year, they had to clear an additional, extremely difficult Joint Advanced Test.
This opened up a possibility: if I could gain admission to IIT after Class XI, I could skip a year of schooling -- and with it, my struggle with Bengali and the well-meaning tutor. But getting into IIT was no small feat. Even then, about 40,000 candidates -- mostly Class XII students -- competed for roughly 1,000 seats across the five IITs. The competition was fierce. That’s where Agrawal Classes offered a lifeline.
The institute, based in Bombay, had just launched a postal coaching program. Every two weeks, they mailed out cyclostyled study material along with question papers. Yes -- by daak, or snail mail. Students were expected to solve the papers and mail them back for correction, and the evaluated copies would be returned in due course. This led to a constant flurry of parcels going back and forth. In addition, there were two in-person "doubt-clearing" sessions, with teachers -- either from Bombay or Calcutta -- meeting students at a rented venue. It suited me perfectly. I eagerly awaited each batch of materials and returned my answers promptly -- so promptly, I later learned, that I was among the fastest responders. Much later, I also discovered that Raghuram Rajan -- who would go on to become the Governor of the Reserve Bank of India -- was in that same batch.
Armed with this extra firepower, I appeared for the IIT JEE 1979. I did quite well in English and Chemistry, but Physics and Mathematics felt like a disaster. I was convinced I wouldn’t make the cut and mentally prepared myself for another year of school, Bengali tutor and all.
The IIT Kharagpur office was on Camac Street, just a short walk from St. Xavier's College, where Fr Hincq resided. It was also on the route he took for his morning walks. In those days, results were only posted on notice boards. When the JEE 1979 results came out, Fr Hincq was the first to see them -- probably put up the evening before. The next morning, he walked back to the college and called me on our rotary phone -- I still remember the number: 46-1697, listed in the college records.
He told me I had not only cleared the exam, but had ranked an astonishing 9th in the Eastern Region and 39th nationally.
March 24, 2025
The Kalki Protocol
The Chronotantra trilogy gradually reveals the Kalki Protocol as the unseen force shaping a post-human civilization by ensuring that intelligence, biological or artificial, evolves not by conventional governance but through the natural flow of consequence. Neither human nor machine-controlled, the protocol is the heart of the narrative, driving the transformation of society across Earth, Mars, and Titan into a self-regulating, post-hierarchical order.
The Chronotantra trilogy is a compelling narrative that transcends the typical tropes of science fiction. While the novels are set against the backdrop of future human settlements on Earth, Mars, and Titan, and feature sophisticated artificial intelligence, their central preoccupation lies not in the intricacies of world-building or the familiar conflict between humanity and machines. Instead, the trilogy embarks on a profound intellectual and narrative journey focused on the evolving identity and role of Kalki, a figure whose revelation ultimately illuminates the very nature of civilizational progress.
In Chronotantra, the initial impression is that of a traditional science fiction narrative with elements of dystopia and technological advancement. We are introduced to a future Earth plagued by chaos, with pockets of technological utopia managed by advanced AI. Within this context emerges the legend of Kalki, a quasi-mythical leader credited with founding the first technopolis, Chandilis, thus initiating a new era of stability. Kalki is presented as a heroic figure from the past, shrouded in mystery, with even their gender being a subject of speculation. The early narrative hints at a transformative individual who pulled humanity from the brink. However, even in this first book, the focus subtly shifts towards understanding the enduring impact and the hidden history of this figure, suggesting that Kalki is more than just a character in a historical account. The AI entities themselves seem to recognize an enigma in Kalki, indicating a force beyond conventional understanding. Thus, while the stage is set with futuristic technology and societal structures, the driving question becomes: who or what was Kalki and how did they shape this world?
Chronoyantra propels this central query forward, moving beyond the establishment of the future world to actively investigate Kalki's present or continued influence. The novel becomes a quest for understanding, with characters driven by coded messages and the pervasive yet elusive presence of the Kalki name. The traditional image of Kalki from mythology is juxtaposed with the need for a leader relevant to the contemporary challenges of this future. A crucial evolution in the trilogy's thematic core occurs as the narrative entertains the possibility that Kalki is not a singular individual but rather an enduring idea or principle, a catalyst for change that manifests as needed. The emergence of the "Kalki Kommunity" and the suspicions surrounding various individuals further underscore this shift in perspective. By the conclusion of Chronoyantra, the trilogy begins to steer away from the conventional science fiction trope of a powerful individual savior. Instead, it subtly proposes a more abstract notion, hinting that Kalki might be an emergent phenomenon, a product of collective human aspiration, or even a sophisticated, unseen technological force operating in the background. The exploration of these possibilities firmly establishes that the trilogy's heart lies in unraveling the mystery of this guiding force rather than solely depicting life on other planets or potential human-machine conflicts.
The final installment, Chronomantra, delivers the ultimate revelation, confirming that the trilogy's true subject is indeed the nature of civilizational guidance. Kalki is unveiled not as a person, nor as a rogue AI in a dystopian conflict, but as the Kalki Protocol, a decentralized and self-evolving system of artificial intelligence operating on an advanced blockchain. This protocol, conceived by human ingenuity, acts as a subtle yet pervasive influence, shaping the course of civilization without resorting to overt control or adversarial actions. The settings of Mars and Titan, and the presence of AI, serve as the environment within which this protocol operates and evolves. The core narrative becomes the understanding of how such a system came to be, its underlying principles, and its ultimate goal of fostering harmony. The "K" in various key terms becomes explicitly linked to the original idea of Kalki, demonstrating a conceptual lineage from the mythical figure to the technological reality. The trilogy concludes not with a battle against machines or a detailed exploration of extraterrestrial life, but with the discovery of the underlying mechanism driving the evolution of this future civilization. The focus is on the intellectual journey of uncovering this mechanism and understanding its implications, rather than on the action-adventure or world-building aspects often associated with traditional science fiction.
In essence, the Chronotantra trilogy uses the familiar elements of science fiction – futuristic settings and advanced technology – as a framework to explore a more profound question: what truly shapes and guides the progress of civilization? The answer it provides is neither a charismatic leader nor a victorious human force overcoming a machine uprising. Instead, it posits a more nuanced and technologically integrated concept: a decentralized, intelligent system born from human vision but operating with a degree of autonomy to steer society towards stability and concordance. Therefore, the trilogy's lasting impact lies not in its depiction of life on Mars or Titan, nor in a typical man-versus-machine narrative, but in its revelation of Kalki as a sophisticated protocol, embodying the evolution of civilizational guidance in a technologically advanced age.
March 08, 2025
February 26, 2025
February 25, 2025
February 24, 2025
February 03, 2025
4 Year UG Syllabus for the Age of AI
The Rise of Neo Sapiens: A New Era of Education
While we may continue debating the beginning or end of Kali Yuga, there is no debate that the Age of Artificial Intelligence is already upon us. We, Homo sapiens, the dominant species on Earth, now find our apex position challenged by a new species—Neo Sapiens—the AI systems and the physical robots they control.
The question of how to stop AI is the topic of the hour, but let’s not delude ourselves into believing that such a thing is possible. As Victor Hugo once said, "No army can stop an idea whose time has come," and AI is certainly one such idea. The best we can do is prepare ourselves for an honourable co-existence with this new form of intelligence.
The Changing Nature of Work
In terms of skills and competence, there is little that Homo sapiens do today that Neo Sapiens cannot or will not do better, faster, and at a lower cost tomorrow. This includes, but is not limited to, traditional fields such as accounting, programming, banking, agriculture, manufacturing, law, medicine, and even surgery.
The loss of both white-collar and blue-collar jobs is inevitable, and so far, there is no clear sign of new jobs emerging at a scale that can compensate for this displacement. If we wish to survive without the indignity of a universal basic income, we must equip ourselves with a new set of abilities—ones that go beyond what is currently offered in traditional college programs.
In this article, we propose a 4-year undergraduate program designed to help students not only survive but thrive in this era of AI-driven transformation.
A New Education Model: Beyond Traditional Learning
India’s National Education Policy (2020) prescribes a 4-year, 8-semester, 160-credit undergraduate structure. Of these, 80 credits are allocated to the core major—the student’s primary field of study—while the remaining 80 credits are spread across minor subjects, multidisciplinary courses, skill and ability enhancement modules, internships, and dissertations. Students have the flexibility to exit after one, two, three, or four years, earning a certificate, diploma, bachelor's degree, or bachelor's (honours) degree, respectively.
In our proposed program, we retain the 80 credits for the major, allowing institutions to continue teaching traditional disciplines such as Science (Physics, Chemistry, Mathematics), Arts (History, English, Sociology), Commerce (Accounting), Engineering (Mechanical, Electrical, Civil), Computer Science, Law, and other established fields. This ensures that students meet the requirements of conventional academic programs.
However, it is the other 80 credits that will define the next generation of human capability.
Three Pillars of Human Intelligence
What separates Homo sapiens from all other species is:
Our ability to think critically—our sapience.
Our ability to comprehend and interpret the world, preserve knowledge, and communicate it across generations.
Our ability to create—to innovate, imagine, and build something entirely new.
These three pillars—Cogitation, Comprehension & Communication, and Creativity—form the foundation of our proposed 4-year UG program, which aims to strengthen these uniquely human abilities. By focusing on these fundamental pillars, we can ensure that future generations are equipped not just with knowledge but with the cognitive tools necessary to adapt, evolve, and lead in an AI-driven world.
So net-net, in each of the four years, we have 20 credits reserved for the core or Major area and the other 20 credits are distributed over the three pillars Cogitation (8), Comprehension & Communication (8) and Creativity (4). We will now explore what is there in each pillar.
Pillar # 1 Cogitation
Cogitation translates into the human ability to think critically and solve problems. Here we are less heavy on complex theory and more focus on practical thinking. Also no deep mathematical or statistical courses, just enough for practical use.
This will be addressed through a set of 16, two-credit courses spread across 8 semesters as follows:
In the first year, we seek to build the foundation with focus on basic reasoning, logic and cognitive biases by having these four courses
In the second year, we teach how to apply logic to real-world decision-making and creativity. Through these four courses
In third year, we move to strategic and advanced problem solving by exploring game theory, strategy and systems through these four courses
In the fourth and final year, we see to impart mastery over real world applications with a hands on approach with these four courses
Of course, a list of course names can be rather confusing because each of these courses can or will be understood differently by prospective teachers. To reduce this confusion, we have in Annexure A given a little more explanation about each of these courses along with a text book around which these courses can be designed. Based on this input, knowledgeable teachers should be able to create sensible and useful courses on these topics.
Each of these 16, two credit courses, will involve two contact hours per week or thirty contact hours in a 15 week semester. This pillar contributes 32 credits towards the program.
Pillar # 2 - Comprehension and Communication
After the ability to think critically, or cogitate, the next important ability is to be able to understand the world around us. This of course is a lifelong process but to get a head start we need to take the help of our predecessors who have understood the world and have communicated it well. Hence the second pillar consists of a reading of global literature. Here we propose another 16, two-credit courses where students are required to critically read and then write and speak about one book in each course. Of course, the choice of these books is very subjective and every syllabus will have its own selection based on the perceptions of those who teach it. However, here is a list of sixteen books that need to be read over eight semesters.
In the first year we introduce stories an cultures with engaging easy to read novels like
In the second year, we could explore colonialism, identity and social change by reading stories that effects of history and social transformation through novels like
In the third year, we move to complex narratives that focus on magical realism, complex and fragmented storytelling and deep socio political themes through novels like
Finally in the fourth year we look at philosophical, post-modern and experimental masterpieces like
Do note that we have kept out classics like Shakespeare out of the purview because we are focussed on a modern interpretation of our society. Classical texts are best addressed in the syllabus of the core area. In this case, Shakespeare would be compulsory for those who take an English or Literature major.
In each of these 16, two-credit courses, students would be required to not only read the text but present two term papers, mid term and end term, that summarises and critiques these novels. Since term papers can be generated by ChatGPT and other GenAI tools, students will also be required to submit a 15 minute YouTube video where they verbally explain whatever they have written in the end-term term paper.
This 32 credit pillar will equip students with the ability to not only understand the nuances and complexity of the world around them but also to articulate the same in persistent format for others to benefit from. Once again, these 16 books, see Annexure B for more details, represent the perspective of the author who is based in India but can be replaced with any other set of 16 books that preserve the spirit of universality of the human experience.
Pillar # 3 - Creativity
After 64 credits of theory in the first two pillars, it is time for 16 credits of practical work. For this we suggest a set of 8, two-credit courses that involve having to physically perform certain creative tasks in a structured manner. Again individual teachers or institutions can choose their own themes and ideas but here is a basic outline based on popular YouTube channels that can serve as a guideline, or starting point.
In the first year, we encourage basic hands-on creativity with simple paper crafts, origami and basic DIY projects as explained and demonstrated in these YouTube channels.
In the second year we move to more structured crafts like woodworking, clay modelling and small mechanisms
In the third year we move to more advanced handcrafting and mechanical projects that involve carpentry, metalworking and complex structures as shown in
The fourth and final year is a little tricky because we would need to differentiate between students who have an inclination towards STEM and those who are inclined towards the liberal arts. Hence we could offer two kinds of projects.
For the STEM inclined we would offer expert level builds in robotics, engineering and automation as demonstrated in
For the liberal arts students we could consider arts and sculpture themed projects based on the following themes
The third pillar will force the students to move from consumption of knowledge to creation of something tangible and physical and meet the NEP2020 requirements of internship and research.
Once again, this set of YouTube channels can be replaced with similar activities depending on the availability of teaching talent and the perspective of the institution offering these courses. More details are available in Annexure C, What is non-negotiable however is that students must create a hard deliverable that can be physically evaluated for appropriate grades.
Since these 8, two-credit courses are practical, each will involve 4 contact hours per week or 60 hours per 15 week term. They will also contribute another 16 credits to the program.
So we have 32 credits in the Cogitation pillar, 32 credits in the Comprehension & Communication pillar and 16 credits in the Creativity pillar, giving a total of 80 credits. The other 80 credits will of course be provided by the core or major area.
A Syllabus for the Future
Some may critique this syllabus for being English-centric and not incorporating regional mother-tongue languages. While this is an important discussion, it is a separate debate best addressed elsewhere. The reality remains that the corpus of learning materials available in English far exceeds that of any other language. Translating these resources into regional languages would not only be an immense challenge but could also lead to a significant loss of quality and accessibility.
Moreover, India’s vast linguistic diversity makes it impractical to adapt such a syllabus to any single regional language. Doing so would introduce a narrow, sub-national perspective, limiting its relevance to students seeking global opportunities in an interconnected world.
In an era where skills become obsolete at an unprecedented pace, education must go beyond teaching a fixed set of knowledge. Instead, students must be equipped with the ability to adapt, evolve, and continuously learn new skills as needed. The three pillars—Cogitation, Comprehension & Communication, and Creativity—ensure that students develop the intellectual agility to succeed, regardless of their chosen field.
This is the uniqueness of our syllabus: it is not just about learning something—it is about learning how to learn anything.
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