Thursday, January 31, 2008

Ideas on Intellectual Property Rights


Amul and Cadila's sugar-free affairs

Our Bureau
Date of posting: 03-06-07
During a hearing last week in Delhi High Court, Gujarat Co-operative Milk Marketing Federation Ltd (GCMMFL), the manufacturer of 'Amul' products, today defended the use of prefix 'Sugar Free' with its soon-to-be-launched ice-cream "Sugar Free Dessert". Amul's counsel argued that 'Sugar Free' was not a new or distinctive term coined by Cadila but was an ordinary and commonly used one. He further said that there were many products which depict "sugar-free" as prefix or suffix to denote that they did not have sugar. The Delhi High Court on April 3rd had restrained Gujarat Co-operative Milk Marketing Federation Ltd, the manufacturer of famous 'Amul' products, from selling and marketing any items under Cadila's trademark "Sugar Free". Explaining the interim injunction, Justice G S Sistani argued that in case the injunction would not be granted, Cadila would suffer irreparable losses. Pratiba Singh, Cadila’s advocate, said that while the company had no issues with any company marketing sugar-free products, they objected to the use of the term “Sugar Free” by Amul. She claimed that no other product used “Sugar Free” in its brand name. She pointed out that Amul’s packaging laid emphasis on the term “Sugar Free” and claimed it was attempting to cash in on Zydus’s brand equity. Cadila Healthcare Ltd, producer of artificial sweeteners since 1988 under the brand name "Sugar Free", is the leader in the market for sweeteners with 74 per cent market share. Cadila had already applied for a trademark for the term “Sugar Free” but not yet received it. Trademark laws all over the world normally do not allow the use of “descriptive” terms. Therefore, an apple can never get the brand "apple", because it is a description. But to a computer, the brand "Apple" can be and has been granted. Ordinarily, at first glance, “Sugar Free” would fall within that category of a description. Amul had announced the creation of a range of sugar free, low fat probiotic desserts created for the health conscious in January.




Amul loses its sugar-free market



Rohan George
in an interim injunction on April 3, 2007, the Delhi High Court stayed the sale of Amul’s new sugar-free ice cream until May 3.This came in response to a case filed by Ahmedabad-based drug and health food company, Zydus Cadila Ltd, on April 2, 2007, claiming infringement of its trademark rights of the phrase “sugar-free” in Amul’s new product. Cadila also sought a compensation of Rs 25 lakh from Amul for causing damage to its reputation.The order, incidentally, was passed ex-parte, with only the counsel for Zydus Cadila present at the time of argument. In his order, justice G S Sistani said if the injunction were not granted, Zydus Cadila would suffer irreparable loss.Amul, the brand name of an Anand-based dairy co-operative in Gujarat managed by the Gujarat Co-operative Milk Marketing Federation Limited, had launched its Prolife Sugar Free probiotic wellness dessert on January 22, 2007. But Cadila filed a case claiming it has exclusive intellectual property rights to the phrase “sugar-free” since it has been manufacturing “Sugar Free” brand of aspartame-based artificial sweeteners since 1988.Pratiba Singh, Cadila’s advocate, said that while the company had no issues with any company marketing sugar-free products, they objected to the use of the term “Sugar Free” by Amul. She claimed that no other product used “Sugar Free” in its brand name. She pointed out that Amul’s packaging laid emphasis on the term “Sugar Free” and claimed it was attempting to cash in on Zydus’s brand equity.As yet Cadila has applied for a trademark for the term “Sugar Free” but not yet received it. Trademark law does not normally allow the use of “descriptive” or “generic” marks, which consist of common words used to describe the product like tasty. Ordinarily, “Sugar Free” would fall within that category but Pratiba Singh claims in many situations, a descriptive term may derive a secondary meaning, due to its repeated association with a specific product, as in the case of Cadila’s artificial sweeteners.However, legal experts have said the use of the term ‘Sugar Free’ by Cadila is not sufficient to give it a secondary meaning. The term must also be synonymous with the company or its product in the mind of the common man.Meanwhile, Amul’s chief general manager R S Sodhi refused to comment till he had seen the court’s order.



Wednesday, January 30, 2008

A walk of Old Delhi


A walk in Gandhi Ashram

Hridaya Kunj


Walk Route in Sabarmati Ashram


Langas of Rajasthan




Langa literally means 'song giver'. An accomplished group of poets, singers, and musicians from the Barmer district of Rajasthan, the Langas seem to have converted from Hinduism to Islam in the 17th century. Traditionally, Sufi influences prevented them from using percussion instruments, however, the Langas are versatile players of the Sindhi Sarangi and the Algoza (double flute), which accompany and echo their formidable ad magical voices. They perform at events like births, and weddings, exclusively for their patrons (yajman), who are cattle breeders, farmers, and landowners. The Langa musicians are regarded by their patrons as 'kings'.

Born in the golden sands of Rajasthan, the Langas have picked up only one trade in life that of carrying the desert in their heart. Located with rustic folk melodies that have trickled down to them from seven generations, the Langas have been singing of the desert charm all their lives. And they plan to sing folk for all ages to come, because they believe that folk is the mother of all classical musical traditions. The Langas, who consider themselves descendants of the Rajputs, are known as creators of the finest music of the desert. Their songs are passed from generation to generation, which makes them effectively the keepers of the history of the desert. They sing songs about Alexander the Great, Maharajas stories and past battles in the region.

The soulful, full throated voices of this music community have filled the cool air of the desert night for centuries in a addition that reflects all aspects of Rajasthan life. Songs for every occasion, mood and moment; stories of legendary battles, hers and lovers engender a spirit of identity, expressed through music that provides relief from the inhospitable land of heat and dust stroms.

The Langas have been part of the patriotic hits like the Vand Mataram and Maa Tujhe Salam. Much of the folk music in these scores draws on the musical repertory of Langas, who have even composed pieces on Mahatma Gandhi and Kargil martyrs.

Langas, are musical cousins to Mangariyas. Their art is identical except that Langas are accompanied by a sarnghi instead of the kamayacha. Both are string instruments, but the saranghi has more strings and so, is richer is range demanding greater training and virtuosity from the vocalist.

The Langas' and Mangariyas' music have been supported by wealthy landlords and aristocrats for generations. Both in the same dialect, but their styles and repertoirs differe, shaped by the taste of their patrons. The monarchs of the courts of Rajput and Jaipur maintained large music and dance troupes an in an environment where the arts were allowed to flourish.

Though both communities are made up of Muslim musicians, many of their songs are in praise of Hindu deities and celebrate Hindu festivas such as Diwali and Holi. The Mananiar performers traditionally invoke the Hindu God Krishna and seek his blessings before beginning their recital. At one time, the Manganiars were musicians of the Rajput courts, accompanying their chiefs to war and providing them with entertainment before and after the battles and in the event of his death, would perform at the ruler's vigil day and night until the mourning was over.


Friday, January 25, 2008

THE FLOWER OF FAMINE

Fig 1

When the bamboo flowers it, it brings with it DEATH, DESTRUCTION AND SUFFERING for the state of Mizoram.

Fig 2

Fig 3

Fig 4
The flowering of bamboo sends Mizoram into a terrifying spiral of crop devastation and food shortages. The last time the bamboo bloomed 48 years ago, it led famine and two decades of violent insurgency.
Read the entire story published in Indian Today on the issue 10th Dec 2007.

Swagata Sen, Aizwal, November 29, 2007
In the late afternoon sun, the entire village of Khanpui in Mizoram gathers around the wooden local primary school shed. Huddled in the chill as winter sets in, they look over the hills at Aizawl, glittering in the distance. It is 100 km and a world away from the state capital, separated by miles and miles of devastated crops and dried bamboo forests. A village elder starts praying, “Lord, give us the strength to survive this mautam, this famine unleashed on us due to the bamboo flowering.”
In dozens of even more remote villages across Mizoram, no one can ignore the frightening legend of the flowering of the bamboo. They say that when the bamboo flowers once every 48 years, it brings along with it death, destruction and suffering. In the fertile southernmost state of north-east India, that time is now.
Not a single paddy stalk has been harvested in Khanpui and the rest of Mizoram as well. The flowering of one particular species of bamboo— Melocanna baccifera, locally known as mautak—has set in motion the frightening spiral that happens every 48 years in the state.
The bamboo flower brings with it hordes of rodents, bugs and locusts, which multiply after eating the nutritious bamboo fruit. All that is left of carefully tilled, sown and irrigated land are yellow and brown beds of devastated paddy fields.
The 300-odd families in Khanpui brave hunger and starvation together. They share whatever food they have and brave the cold to set mouse traps and kill the moving army of rats that have been eating away all their crops.
“They’ve been coming since last year,” says D. Chawngthang. He is 62 and about to begin his night-long vigil killing as many rats as he can, collecting Rs 2 for every dead rat.
The last time the bamboo flowered, in 1959, the famine it caused gave birth to an underground movement that lasted 26 years and led to the formation of the state of Mizoram itself. This time, the picturesque capital of Aizawl, which houses a third of the state’s 10 lakh people, is quietly going about its business as there are no outward signs of a raging famine in the villages.
But in people’s minds it is as if the struggles of the 1960s have recommenced. The local daily newspaper Aizawl Post reports crop destruction and starvation, and most locals believe it is the beginning of another long fight for them against deprivation. So what if it is still to touch the city, the unpleasant memories of the last mautam(bamboo famine) have not gone away.
The phenomenon of the flowering of the bamboo is an ecological freak. About 31 per cent of the total area of Mizoram is covered with thick bamboo forests, housing 26 species of bamboo. One particular species, the Melocanna baccifera accounts for 90 per cent of the bamboo forests found in the north-eastern state.
Once every 48 years, the bamboo flowers, bears fruit and dries completely to give rise to new plants. The fruit from this plant has a 50 per cent starch content which serves to increase the reproductive capabilities of rats that feed on it.
In the year the bamboo flowers, rats give birth to over a dozen offspring in a month, and within a year the entire rodent population multiplies over a dozen times and begins to eat anything it can find. Usually the rats begin with the rice fields.
Farmers have tried every other kind of crop, from brinjal to soya and even bitter gourd but with little luck against the rats. During the 1959 famine, they had not attacked underground crops such as ginger, turmeric and yam.
But this year, they have not only attacked these, but have been found nibbling on bamboo-matted floors inside houses. Experts reckon the rodent population in the state could well be 10 times the human one.
The first signs of the mautam are visible around Khanpui’s destroyed fields. In the last one year, no household has been able to harvest even two tins of rice (one tin holds about 70 kg of paddy and a tin of seed is expected to yield at least 70-100 tins of harvest). “We do not have money even for our daily needs,” says Lalrochunga, a Khanpui local.
The state government ran a food-for-work programme only for 10 days in the entire year here, effectively raising the household income up to a mere Rs As early as in 1998, Padmashree C. Rokhuma, also called the “Pied Piper of Aizawl”, had warned the government to institute a scheme to collect rat tails and burn them, hoping that it would act as an incentive for villagers to capture rats. The scheme was discontinued after a few months because the government was not convinced that the mautam was such a serious threat.
Now, almost all of Mizoram, and parts of Manipur and Tripura, are reeling under acute food shortages due to crop devastation. Rokhuma’s scheme was renewed only last month, and while he presided over the burning of 20,000 rat-tails in a week—in a month, over four lakh rat-tails have been burnt—he believes it is not enough.
The 90-year-old naturalist and social worker fears the writing is on the wall. The flowering, which started last year, has already dried up in most areas, but its worst effects are now being felt. Rokhuma explains that the rats attack the crops because they don’t have enough bamboo fruit to feast on.
His laboratory shed contains six kinds of mousetraps and chloroformed samples of varieties of rats, including one dreadful beast that weighs 1 kg. It will take at least three to five years for the rats to die, when they contract liver ailments due to indigestible food.
Towards the end, the rats will start eating their own offspring. But until then, Mizoram will see no harvest. “The only solution is to kill the rats, and we are late already,” he shakes his head.
For Mizoram Chief Minister Zoramthanga, the implications of the mautam stretch far beyond the sufferings of today. From his residence at MacDonald Hill, Zoramthanga looks out over the hills of his state and says the Centre has been stingy about the distribution of rice to Mizoram.
During the last mautam in 1959, Mizoram was just another district of Assam, and its food shortages were initially ignored by the state government as exaggerated and local superstition. Worsening conditions led to the formation of the Mizo National Famine Front under Laldenga, one of Mizoram’s biggest heroes.
In 1966, the Mizo National Front (MNF) began an underground movement for setting up an independent Mizo nation. The struggle went on for two decades before Mizoram was formed in 1986.
Zoramthanga, Laldenga’s righthand man, is still proud of his role in the insurgency. In his front hall, the politician of today is captured in a framed photograph as the rebel of yesterday, clad in battle fatigues and carrying an automatic rifle. As insurgent-turned chief minister, he must now pull out all stops to combat the famine.
Under the BAFFACOS (Bamboo Flowering and Famine Combat Scheme), he is addressing the issue with improved methods to kill rats and has started a food-for-work programme where an individual can earn up to Rs 100 a day.
But he realises that peaceful dialogue is neither as simple nor as cut and dry as fighting with guns. He has written to the prime minister about what Mizoram needs at this moment in time, “At least 10,000 metric tonne of rice per month.
The amount is nothing and we are ready to buy it at the APL (above poverty line) rate. The whole population of Mizoram would fit into one street of Delhi or Kolkata,” he says.
Then comes a warning from the lofty heights of MacDonald Hill which is meant for the power brokers thousands of miles away in Delhi. “If the government of India fails this time, it would give rise to a second insurgency. Even now, 90 per cent of the Mizos want an independent nation.”
Zoramthanga’s statement is neither empty rhetoric nor an empty threat. In Mizoram there is a silent but strong faith in the idea of “Zoram”, a separate geographical entity, a new nation that includes Mizoram, parts of Manipur, Tripura and Assam, and even parts of Bangladesh and Burma, which are chiefly occupied by the group of tribes generically known as Mizo and their sister tribes.
A paper written by Paul Chonzik, a college lecturer in Aizawl, states that the land of Zoram might never be a reality, but local customs and social practices still bind the region strongly together through social ties.
Many houses in Aizawl have a map of Zoram on the walls. According to some reports, certain areas of northern Mizoram and the villages around the Vangai Range in Manipur, which is also experiencing the mautam, want to actually declare independence from the Indian state.
Along the National Highway 150—which is supposed to connect Aizawl with Imphal, the capital of Manipur —lie some of the areas which are hardest hit by the famine, where a private outfit called the MAUTAM (Mautam Affected areas Upliftment for Tripura, Assam and Manipur) Task Force will be delivering supplies of rice.
The NH-150 is no smooth stretch of tarmac, at best a dirt track with kneedeep mud that runs for miles. The bridge connecting the two states was washed away by floods six years ago, and all that is left is a precarious-looking bridge made of bamboo hanging high over the Barak river.
The man behind the MAUTAM Task Force, John L. Pudaite, whose father was a mediator between the MNF and the government before the signing of the peace accord in 1986, says that Mizoram, with its roads, electricity, and a proactive government, is still better off compared to other neighbouring states.
At Tipaimukh, where Mizoram and Manipur meet, the local MLA says that a bag of rice takes three days to reach a village in Manipur, and even then, most of it already is taken away as cuts by several insurgent groups.
“I try my best to convince the state government of the condition in these parts,” says the 34-year-old RJD MLA and student leader, Ngursanglur Sanate. Other than an excuse for a road, the only way to travel in these parts is by boat along the Barak river that overlooks the insurgent-occupied Vangai range.
In Manipur, the Churachandpur and Tamengleng districts are the hardest hit by the mautam. Some areas of Churachandpur, like Sartuinek village in the hills, are conventionally inaccessible by road. Getting there includes a two-day-long boat ride and a day-long trek.
The residents of the village, which has about 87 families, walk five hours to and fro for a sackful of rice provided by the MAUTAM Task Force. That is the only food they have received for the entire year. “We have not harvested even a tin of rice this year,” says a farmer, who then thinks nothing of offering milk to visitors as a sign of hospitality.
Sanate says that there is a backlog of about 64,600 quintals of rice to be given to the Churachandpur district. The Manipur government has not yet handed out even a kilo.
Some of it, he fears, has been siphoned off by insurgent outfits. Rice meant for the famine-struck villages, easily recognisable by their wrapping, can now be found on sale in the bazaars in Silchar and Agartala.Victims of a peculiar natural scourge and, equally. of a remote central administration, the faminehit villagers of Mizoram and Manipur offer outsiders their own food almost by reflex.
At the height of the bamboo famine, the brutality of nature has tried to overwhelm the beauty of Mizoram’s landscape. After 48 years, once again the mautam has devastated rice fields, ravaged households and shown up Delhi’s detachment. But once again it has failed to destroy the region’s common humanity.
Source: India Today, December 10, 2007 Issue
Questions we can ask:
With a little background on the disaster, we can ask two/three questions. One could be on the sequencing of pictures and the other could be the main cause of the famine. The answer would be flowering in bamboo plants.

Bangalore: Map of MG Road and its Surrounding


Hi, during my recent visit to Bangalore I had got an opportunity to participate in Bangalore Walk. Rupa Pai (wife of Aurn Pai, the initiator of Bangalore Walk) was our host. I was given this wonderful pictorial map showing the area around MG Road along with brief writings on Bangalore's history. I was wondering if we could ask three questions on this map in class 8.
I have written about Bangalore and walk experience in my other blog 'History Speaks'. The link is http://indiahistoryspeaks.blogspot.com/2007/12/global-bangalore-in-history-trail-in-mg.html
My ideas:
Question 1. Following are brief informations about different periods of Bangalore history.
11th cent AD: An old woman shares her meals of boilded beans with a king who was lost here. He named the place Bendekaalooru or bean town, which became Bangalooru and later anglicised Bangalore.
1500-1700 AD: Kempegodwa, a local king, sees a hare chasing a hound, decides this is heroic ground. Builds a mud fort, and his grand son KGII, lays the foundation of a city (pete).
Late 1800: Bangalore is a key military base in the British Empire, and an economic zone.
Post 1947: Most British left, several Anglo Indians remained. The capital of Mysore state is shifted to Bangalore.
The map highlights which of the above historical periods?
The answer would be late 18oos.
Question 2: According to the map this part of Bangalore was essentially a/an
A. religious town. B. military establishment. C. industrial centre and D. polical centre.
The answer would be B.
Question 3: It can be some thing related to the town planning or concept of urbanisation.