Shocking: India's richest 1% corner 73% of wealth generation

Bengaluru, Jul 1: Veteran actor and comedian, Rajagopal, who was known for his outstanding mimicry skills in Sandalwood breathed his last on the night of July 1, that is yesterday. He was one of the favourite comedians among the audiences and is said to have been suffering from kidney and asthma problems.

He passed away at his residence in Bangalore.

The well-recognised comedian has worked in more than 600 movies in his career, along with Tamil movies. The actor was active in the film industry since 1983 and had acted with many stars like Vishnuvardhan, Ambareesh, Prabhakar among others. He is also known for mimicking actress Kalpana's voice very well.

Recently, he also had claimed that new directors, new producers in the Kannada film industry had not been calling veterans to play parts in their movies and preferring fresh talent. He also had been going through a financial crisis due to the lockdown. Rajagopal has also worked in TV serials for some time in his career.  He has acted in super hit movies like, ‘Real Police’, ‘Sadakaru’, ‘Goosi Gang’, ‘Super Police’, and others as well.

The lockdown has seen the demise of many South Indian stars. Chiranjeevi Sarja too passed away last month, leaving the industry in shock. Now, a famous comedian's demise has also saddened the industry further.

Bengaluru, May 1: Karnataka has reported 11 new cases of coronavirus, taking the State's count to 576, informed the Health Department on Friday.

Out of the total COVID-19 cases found in the State, 235 people have been discharged and 22 people have died.

"11 new COVID-19 cases have been confirmed in Karnataka from April 30, 5 pm till noon today, taking the total number of cases to 576, which includes 22 deaths and 235 discharges," said the State government COVID-19 bulletin.

Jun 9: Prime Minister Narendra Modi wants all 1.3 billion Indians to be “vocal for local” — meaning, to not just use domestically made products but also to promote them. As an overseas citizen living in Hong Kong, I’m doing my bit by very vocally demanding Indian mangoes on every trip to the grocery. But half the summer is gone, and not a single slice so far.

My loss is due to India’s COVID-19 lockdown, which has severely pinched logistics, a perennial challenge in the huge, infrastructure-starved country. But more worrying than the disruption is the fruity political response to it. Rather than being a wake-up call for fixing supply chains, the pandemic seems to be putting India on an isolationist course. Why?

Granted that the liberal view that trade is good and autarky bad isn’t exactly fashionable anywhere right now. What makes India’s lurch troublesome is that the pace and direction of economic nationalism may be set by domestic business interests. The Indian liberals, many of whom are Western-trained academics, authors and — at least until a few years ago — policy makers, want a more competitive economy. They will be powerless to prevent the slide.

Modi’s call for a self-reliant India has been echoed by Home Minister Amit Shah, the cabinet’s unofficial No. 2, in a television interview. If Indians don’t buy foreign-made goods, the economy will see a jump, he said. The strategy — although it’s too nebulous yet to call it that — has a geopolitical element. A military standoff with China is under way, apparently triggered by India’s completion of a road and bridge near the common border in the tense Himalayan region of Ladakh. It’s very expensive to fight even a limited war there. With India’s economy flattened by COVID, New Delhi may be looking for ways to restore the status quo and send Beijing a signal.

Economic boycotts, such as Chinese consumers’ rejection of Japanese goods over territorial disputes in the East China Sea, are well understood as statecraft. In these times, it’s not even necessary to name an enemy. An undercurrent of popular anger against China, the source of both the virus and India’s biggest bilateral trade deficit, is supposed to do the job. But is it ever that easy?

A hastily introduced policy to stock only local goods in police and paramilitary canteens became a farcical exercise after the list of banned items ended up including products by the local units of Colgate-Palmolive Co., Nestle SA, and Unilever NV, which have had significant Indian operations for between 60 and 90 years, as well as Dabur India Ltd., a New Delhi-based maker of Ayurveda brands. The since-withdrawn list demonstrates the practical difficulty of bureaucrats trying to find things in a globalized world that are 100% indigenous.

Free-trade champions fret that the prime minister, whom they saw as being on their side six years ago, is acting against their advice to dismantle statist controls on land, labor and capital to help make the country more competitive. Engage with the world more, not less, they caution. But Modi also has to satisfy the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, the umbrella Hindu organisation that gets him votes. Its backbone of small traders, builders and businessmen — the RSS admits only men — was losing patience with the anemic economy even before the pandemic. Now, they’re in deep trouble, because India’s broken financial system won’t deliver even state-guaranteed loans to them.

The U.S.-China tensions — over trade, intellectual property, COVID responsibility and Hong Kong’s autonomy — offer a perfect backdrop. A dire domestic economy and trouble at the border provide the foreground. Big business will dial economic nationalism up and down to hit a trifecta of goals: Block competition from the People's Republic; make Western rivals fall in line and do joint ventures; and tap deep overseas capital markets. The first goal is being achieved with newly placed restrictions on investment from any country that shares a land border with India. The second aim is to be realized by corporate lobbying to influence India's whimsical economic policies. As for the third objective, with the regulatory environment becoming tougher for U.S.-listed Chinese companies like Alibaba Group Holding Ltd., an opportunity may open up for Indian firms.

All this may bring India Shenzhen-style enclaves of manufacturing and trade, but it will concentrate economic power in fewer hands, something that worries liberals. They’re moved by the suffering of India’s low-wage workers, who have borne the brunt of the COVID shutdown. But when their vision of a more just society and fairer income distribution prompts them to make common cause with the ideological Left, they’re quickly repelled by the Marxist voodoo that all cash, property, bonds and real estate held by citizens or within the nation “must be treated as national resources available during this crisis.” Who will invest in a country that does that instead of just printing money?

At the same time, when liberals look to the business class, they see a sudden swelling of support for ideas like a universal basic income. They wonder if this isn’t a ploy by industry to outsource part of the cost of labor to the taxpayer. Slogans like Modi’s vocal-for-local stir the pot and thicken the confusion. The value-conscious Indian consumer couldn’t give two hoots for calls to buy Indian, but large firms will know how to exploit economic nationalism. One day soon, I’ll get my mangoes — from them.