Another Goa!

Spent three glorious days in Goa after a long, long time. Glad we opted for a Villa instead of the standard 'resort'. We were lucky with our gorgeous villa ( found it on a website called 'Lazydays'). It was clearly built by someone with enormous good taste in 1940. 'Josephine Villa' is located in a sleepy village called Chicholim, and is the perfect place for a family break. Built in the classical Indo-Portugese style, it has five bedrooms and all the comforts of home, including en efficient, friendly chef called Seema who produces Goan delicacies like chicken cafreal and xacuti, besides whipping up great breakfasts in a dream kitchen.
But it was really 'La Plage' that did it for me. I used to love 'Le Restaurant' in the old days. It was run by three very beautiful French people - Florence, Serge and Morgan.When it shut shop, I was devastated! Now the threesome has come up with 'La Plage' ( The Beach), and what a place it is! A little distance from Morjim, it is an informal restaurant where one can kick off footwear and feel silky, powdery white sand between the toes. It stays open all day, starting with Florence's 'serious' breakfast. But it is the sundowner crowd that makes it special. There are two restaurants in Goa which are designed for sunset watching. This one, and the Greek Thalassa. But my vote goes to La Plage , where the food is exquisite and the crowd, very international.
I'd gladly go back for more ! More of Josephine , too. The Turkish lady who owns the property has done it up so beautifully, it makes residents feel they are in Istanbul, while still retaining a distinctive Goa touch.
Of course, the creepy, sinister Russians are everywhere! Goa is possibly the only state in India where certain areas are out of bounds for Indians! The signages are in Russian, the currency used is Russian, the food served is Russian. And there are only Russians wherever you look! Indian citizens are threatened and chased out by the Russian mafia. This remote corner of Goa has become a haven for drugs and prostitution. Why can't local cops do anything about it? The answer is obvious! Local activists stay away as well since they fear for their lives. These burly Russian men are armed and dangerous. It's the sort of 'exclusive' expose Arnab should consider for his channel.

Read More

V-Day Greetings, Blogdosts!!

My dil is going 'dhak dhak', 'dhak dhak'. I am off on a date with my husband to watch Bebo romance Imran. Hope it's a fun, light hearted, no-brainer of a movie. It's just what I need after Karachi - a place that really and truly provided serious food for thought! More on that tomorrow. For now, it's ciao!

Will you be my Valentine, Yuvi??

When a national heartthrob makes it to the headlines for a medical condition, it isn’t the best news. Last week, our dashing South Paw and World Cup hero, Yuvraj Singh , dominated news coverage across various media, after going public with his condition – a rare form of cancer identified as ‘Mediastinal Seminoma’. Since that shocking disclosure that led to a tidal wave of sympathy, Yuvi has issued several upbeat statements that reveal his fighting spirit and determination to win this tough battle and get back on the field. His exclusive interview to the TOI (“Why this Kolaveri di over my illness?”) was not just amazingly brave, but it displayed his grit and determination to reclaim his life.He was honest enough to admit he was initially ‘angry, confused and repentant’ ( a fairly common syndrome with patients diagnosed with the Big-C), but has emerged from the ordeal, a stronger, more determined man. This makes him India’s Number One Sweetheart on Valentine’s Day. Yuvi has always had a huge female fan following, being single, charming and handsome. This crisis is bound to double that!
But on a more serious note, I was talking about the issue with Vandana Gupta, the dynamic founder of V-Care which celebrates 20 years of providing help and support to cancer patients in 2013, and she expressed a few valid reservations about the misrepresentation of Yuvi’s condition in the media. Considering V-Care celebrated its 19th Survivor’s Day just under a week ago, Vandana ( a survivor herself) wants to clarify that India does have some of the most competent oncologists in the world, working tirelessly to save lives. One does NOT have to believe such treatment is exclusively available in Boston( where Yuvi is being treated), or at a fancy international hospital. Yuvi is fortunate he had the resources to travel abroad for his ailment. But others in a similar position need not despair! Our docs are as good as the best anywhere. Further, too many half-baked theories about Yuvi’s cancer have already done the rounds ( excuse me, it isn’t lung cancer he’s suffering from, okay?). Vandana points out that it is misleading to claim chemotherapy alone will ‘cure’ a patient. She knows what she’s talking about. So, while we all pray for Yuvi’s speedy recovery and send him the biggest heart ever to say, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day! We love you!” let us also stop any careless speculation and leave the man alone to fight on valiantly and come home to a brand new innings.
**************
Mithu Alur is another extraordinary woman, like Vandana. Both have dedicated their lives to the service of others. Mithu called me with a fantastic perspective on Valentine’s Day. “ Do those suffering from cerebral palsy, for example, have no right to nurture romantic feelings?” she asked. Frankly, I had never given this subject a thought. She went on to add that love can and should be celebrated on several levels on such a special day. Valentine’s Day is not just about physical love. What about emotional, intellectual and spiritual love? Why does society imagine that people who may not have full control over their bodies, and could be physically ‘displeasing’ in appearance, do not wish to be a part of such a joyous celebration? Why the stigma? Who would profess love to someone in a wheelchair, when society’s parameters reserve Valentine’s Day for the beautiful and the young exclusively?At ADAPT, one can listen to the stories of those coping with various disabilities and hear their tales of love and longing. Yes, they want to be in loving relationships. Yes, they dream of meeting a life partner and getting married. Yes, they want exactly the same things that ‘normal’ people desire. On this Valentine’s Day, let’s make it an all-inclusive affair. That’s love. True love! And it does make the world go round.

Read More

Karachi Lit Fest kicks off...

It has been a hectic two days in Karachi. Very hectic. The KLF kicked off this morning under a glorious sky and wonderful weather. William Dalrymple must have been distracted by something or someone, for instead of delivering a keynote address, he read extensively from his book... and nobody stopped him. The reading ( about the Afghan War) was terrific. But it couldn't in all fairness pass off as a keynote address! I enjoyed my own one hour solo session thoroughly, even if my poor interviewer was suffering from a really bad throat. The questions from the audience were lively and informed. All the press interviews that followed were fantastic as well. Karachi has changed since I was here last ( but then, which sensitive city hasn't?). I was told not to wear jeans or sleeveless tunics by a well meaning lady. Of course, I ignored the advice.... and hey - I'm still alive , right? In fact, over a delightful lunch with the ladies of Karachi at Okra ( superlative food ), we discussed several tricky issues ( sorry... girlie stuff. Can't reveal) But I was struck by more than just their beauty and style. At the hotel ( Carlton) where I am staying, I'd noticed a prominent sign at the entrance which said, "No weapons allowed inside." It sounded, errrr, ominous. It IS ominous. Thank God for ignorance! I am happily traipsing around the city minus body guards ( the norm, btw). I fact I attended a fabulous sangeet and mehendi evening last night at which tout Karachi was present. I felt right at home as the youngsters took to the dance floor energetically while the dj played 'Dhinka Chika' and 'Ooh La La..." Such deja vu, darlings! I had dragged Vikram Seth with me, and quite a few Suitable Boys came up to get introduced, along with sexily clad Suitable Girls. Vikram is adorable! And I enjoyed his astute observations, as he surveyed the scene, sipped a mild Scotch and water ( flowing like the Indus) and spoke about Mohenjo Daro.
Tonight I shall be attending a Quawali with my local friends. It promises to be a sizzling soiree. Shall go in search of Multani plates at the Itwar Market tomorrow. And inshallah meet Imran Khan who's in town to attend a shaadi.


0
0

Read More

Bechari Oprah! Who will marry her....?

Blogdosts. I am off to Karachi tomorrow. Am a little excited. A little nervous. The programme sounds fascinating. But to be at a session titled 'Superstar Author' without dying of embarrassment ( secretly tickled !), will be a major feat! I may or may not blog from Karachi. Tempted to take the iPad, but would rather people watch and ahem, this time I am definitely going to attempt a bus ride - I love the public transport in Karachi. The buses are moving works of art - delightfully kitschy and colourful. The last time I suggested it to my local hosts, they nearly fainted and locked me up!!
******************
This appeared in The Week.....

A ‘Suitable Man’ for Oprah…

Strike me dead for saying this, but who will marry Oprah??She is larger than life, physically and metaphorically. She is , perhaps, the largest woman on earth. While I’m sure it’s tough being Oprah, it is well nigh impossible for anybody to be Mr. Oprah. I cannot think of any man in the public domain who could play that role. Oprah is seriously scary. Her personality is overwhelming. And she definitely does not carry all that weight, that baggage, lightly. Oprah is exceedingly self-aware. She knows she is Oprah Winfrey. And she wants you to know it, too. That’s a pretty tough call to take in a meaningful relationship between equals – which is what a stable marriage is all about. And it is not just her formidable size or reputation. A ‘suitable man’ will have to deal with much more. It’s called the ‘Oprah Package’ – the entourage, the fans, the roadshow. Because, the fact of the matter is, Oprah is blissfully wedded to herself. And to her life- long show. There is simply no space for another. At least, that was the impression conveyed during her breezy stay in India, during which she managed to pack it all in – from seaside mansions to chawls, widows in Vrindavan to socialites in Mumbai.Which is fine. Perhaps, she is not really looking for a suitable man any more. Perhaps, she knows another human being in her life would crowd the space which is designed to accommodate just one person – her. And she is perfectly happy not having to share even a micro second of her fishbowl existence with another, especially since she herself belongs to the world – to those millions of global fans, who believe implicitly in the Oprah Magic.
Oprah, of course, is unique. But she’s not alone in experiencing such a life. The other woman who comes to mind is Mother Teresa – who was also appropriated by her followers during her lifetime, and had consciously ‘married’ God, devoting her hours to the service of humanity. Both women display similar traits and characteristics : charismatic, magnetic, powerful, giving and hugely influential. Both reached out to people across continents in a way that no other contemporary could or did. Both remain adored, revered figures capable of moving masses through their words and deeds. Mother T. is no more. But her legend lives on. Oprah continues to exercise an overpowering hold over her flock. Having met her, albeit briefly, it’s easy to understand why. Oprah, Like Mother T. instantly connects to the person she is talking to. She exudes unadulterated love and concern. Her emotions are out there… her eyes are kind. Occasionally, they brim over. But mostly, they dance with joy. It is her exuberance that is most infectious. Combine that with a spontaneous touchy-feely attitude, and what you get is an irresistible human being you have to fall in love with – as most people do. But that’s different from marriage, right?
The only other female contemporary world figure in a similar league, who has been married to the same man for a record number of years, is Hillary Clinton. But then, her husband, Bill Clinton is no ornery fella! That’s why the marriage has endured, despite scandals galore.Oprah has more in common with Bill than Hillary, including a rough childhood. Early deprivation combined with an astonishingly high I.Q. have made super heroes out of both individuals. Rising magnificently above adversity has toughened the two , taking them to dizzy heights in their public life. But the biggest common factor has been the undeniable people skills they possess in abundance.These outweigh any other attribute. Reaching out in remarkable ways and touching countless lives is a God-given gift. For an iconic talk show host and a much reviled yet, equally admired former President of America, it is this very gift that has found them a permanent place in history. Oprah is the richest self-made woman in the world. I wonder what those riches mean to her in real terms. Despite all the fame and glory, there is still a hint of loneliness in Oprah’s expressive eyes. For a woman who grandly claimed her ‘whole life is a Taj Mahal ’, it does seem a little ironical that there is no ShahJehan in sight!

Read More

Fun book review....Mumbai Girl / Lucknow Boy

Loving the Mumbai 'winter'. Normally, it lasts for all of three-and-a-half days. This year we have been lucky to shiver delicately and snuggle under razais for close to a fortnight. Mumbai at 10 degrees celsius? Shocking!
I threw two shawls around my shoulders and headed out to Cafe Zoe's ( 7th day, and no teething troubles) last night. It's a really cool place, very SOHO and hip ( exposed brickwork, mandatory!). Located in a God forsaken mill area of central Mumbai, it is run by a Belgian cutie named Jeremy, and a desi gal called Taarini ( also cute). The food is straightforward and quite wonderful (lamb stew with cous cous, beef burgers, steamed rawas, crab risotto). And the pricing ,not outrageous. Free wi-fi encourages easy dining, and the place is open for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I see it as the new ex-pat hangout.A little like 'Le Mill' , the very fancy designer store in the dockyard area,where more French than English is spoken. Am literally chilling out today....blame it on the weather!
************
This appeared in 'India Today'...

A Mumbai Girl checks out a Lucknow Boy…

Dekho bhai, aapun toh aisech hai. Being a Mumbai Girl, it is somewhat difficult to digest a 306 –page tome from a Lucknow Boy, that’s filled with Delhi style bragging ( it happens! Delhi does that to the best of us).Vinod Mehta has packaged the material into a memoir that is, ummm…. rather dull.As an admirer of Vinod Mehta’s roller coaster career – I find it hard to believe he could have written such a boring book. What happened? Something obviously got in the way, and let’s blame it on Delhi. A boring account of an interesting life, requires an alibi to explain why it is so damn boring in the first place. Had Mr. Mehta continued to live and work in Mumbai, I am certain he would have written a far more readable book. In any case,it’s going to be a little tough to find readers who are keen on following the frequent hirings and firings of a maverick editor , for that is the only real meat in the memoir. The world has changed dramatically from the zamana Mr. Mehta lovingly chronicles. When he looks back with nostalgia, it is a little like inviting young readers to a torture session ( uncles and aunties love doing that!), during which they are force fed on stuff they really couldn’t care less about. Even ones own children run away from conversations that begin with, ‘In my time…” And heaven help you if you pull out those old albums and ask them to go down memory lane with faded photographs. Mr. Mehta’s sepia-toned recollections may be of some interest to his colleagues and assorted politicos who wish to be featured in the magazine he so ably edits. Give them Sunny Leone’s unedited life story in ten easy chapters instead – now that’s riveting stuff. What the trade calls a ‘good read’.
The biggest let down in this memoir is the absence of any asli masala. The early years are self-indulgently chronicled but reveal nothing beyond the trite ‘escapades’ of a lazy schoolboy having ‘fun’ with friends. Which makes this particular sentence from the book somewhat ironic, “In Lucknow at that time you could be a liar, a crook, bigot,miser,ugly,lower caste – that was okay.What you couldn’t be was a bore!” Oh dear God… how did the young Mehta survive in that case? Did nobody tell him? Or did that happen only after he moved to Delhi to slay the lions ? It has to be Delhi that is the villain of this memoir. The Mumbai Mehta was an amiable chap. He wasn’t boastful. And he could out-bitch anybody in the room. Most of the time, the bitching was about those absent. Everybody laughed – including his highly ‘intellectual’ friends - tiresome then, far worse now. But Mr. Mehta had not turned as pretentious… nor did he drop names. It’s back to blaming Delhi for his ‘parivartan’, folks!
One can hardly blame Mr. Mehta. Proximity to politicians and power brokers can numb a journalist’s sharper instincts. But a memoir surely needs to deliver more than a loosely strung account of job- hopping? Is sniping a substitute for insights? What about the author’s old-fashioned self-righteousness that pops up on every second page? And all those tedious justifications? So,he pays his own bills.Is that something to boast about? The ball game has changed, and one wonders whether Mr. Mehta’s avuncular advice to aspiring journos will be paid the slightest attention to by this lot. But at least, having dealt with his bug bears and demons in print, one sincerely hopes he gets his old groove back before his current bosses start looking around. The one magazine Mr. Mehta missed editing, and he could still do a brilliant job of, is ‘Stardust’. Perhaps, I should put in a good word for him with my old boss, Nari Hira? Well-written gossip never goes out of style. One wishes Mr. Mehta had packaged his gossip more accurately, and certainly more engagingly. That’s the price you pay for leaving Mumbai, Lucknow Boy!
Come back, Vinod Mehta. All is forgiven!

Read More

Kissa General Ka...

This appeared in Sunday Times.... I understand I have received some seriously nasty mail for this. Theek hai. I have never bothered with abusive comments. Particularly those that are written by cowards hiding behind assumed identities.
I am getting set for my Karachi trip! My session is titled 'Superstar Author', and that has me worried! Should I borrow Bipasha's spangled saree from Riteish Deshmukh's shaadi?? Or get into one of those ridiculous designer gowns flashed by our lovely ladies on the Red Carpet in Macau??? Blogdosts, kindly step in and advise!!
******************

The General in his labyrinth…

There is something super fabulous about Faujjis. Diehard romantics ( women, in particular) will say it’s the uniform that does it. Perhaps. But beyond the crispness of the ‘vardis’, it’s the aura surrounding our bravehearts that makes civilians go weak in the knees. Our men and women in the Armed Forces represent many things – heroism, gallantry, loyalty, pride, safety, security and just good, old- fashioned patriotism. The sort of gooey, mushy emotion that extends well beyond logic and mundane,everyday concerns.The popular Governor of Maharshtra, K. Sankaranarayanan hosted an impressive Reception on the manicured lawns of the Raj Bhavan to celebrate India’s Republic Day. The guest list was pretty eclectic, with several celebrities ( big and small) dotting the grounds and making polite noises over chai and samosas. Invariably, it was the men in uniform who attracted the most attention. Other invitees sidled up to get photographed with them, while they themselves scanned the crowd looking for prominent personalities they wished to hobnob with. In that beautiful setting, our Faujjis stood out magnificently, and at least on that one evening, they overshadowed all the stars from other fields, who were busy preening and strutting around waiting to be clicked by the official photographer. The Faujjis stole the show - all those medals across broad chests! The proud posture! The attitude! Wow.
And then we get a General who refuses to grow up! Come on. There is something petty about a person who shrewdly times a protest after living with a ‘wrong’ DoB for decades. No matter what Army Chief Gen.V.K.Singh now claims, he certainly has not covered himself with glory by his conduct. And no matter how this drama finally gets resolved, one thing is for sure, the image of the Army has taken a serious beating. Its reputation is definitely tarnished by what appears to be a serious case of bungling ( Government of India) and carping ( General). Without going into the merits of the case ( let the Supreme Court decide), this is how it appears to the Average Joe: many, many moons ago, someone goofed up on a vital date. A birth date. That careless, naughty someone added a crucial year to the all-important birth certificate (1951 instead of 1950). The person ( General-ji) thus wronged had to live with this erroneous statistic, and compelled to make uneasy peace with the key mistake. Despite efforts, this grave error was not resolved. It would have remained yet another technical, clerical glitch forever, had it not been challenged. And challenged aggressively by none other than the Chief of Army , who is the commander of a 1.1 million strong force. Why? And why now? Was it just the question of staying on as top dog for another twelve months, instead of following marching orders, as per existing rules and records? Who knows! But General-ji would have none of it! V.K. Singh proclaimed it was a matter of ‘honour’ that had made him go ballistic about the botched date. All these unsavoury developments were then played out on national television channels and the front page of dailies with legal luminaries debating the main issue at stake - whose honour? An individual’s or the Army’s? Which one is more important?
While this ugly controversy still rages on, I recalled meeting a highly decorated Army Officer at the Republic Day Reception. Without making a single gauche reference to the ongoing debacle, he said simply, “ For those of us in uniform, defending India is our one point agenda. We live by three words – Naam, Namak, Nishan. Honour, Loyalty and Identity. When we salute our National flag , our emotions are deeply stirred - it is the flag we live for and die for. When we lose our men, it is this flag that is draped over the coffins which brings them home to their loved ones.” The soldier had tears in his eyes, as I did in mine. Perhaps, we need to better demonstrate our love and pride towards those who sacrifice so much so that the rest of us can sleep better. We take our Faujjis far too much for granted. Which is why, we feel let down and disillusioned when the Chief himself behaves petulantly, like any ordinary government bloke looking to hang on to his kursi (plus, all the perks) and to hell with larger implications. Undoubtedly, there are wheels within wheels in this story, too. And not everything is what it appears. There will several sleazy tales involving rivals, favouritism, enmity and worse. But sorry! One expects discretion to be the better part of valour at this level. Obviously, the General in his labyrinth has other compulsions. Whichever way it goes, there is something exceedingly tacky and shabby about this controversy. If the guy couldn’t manage to correct an error on a birth certificate, how would he have led India into – God forbid - a war??

Read More

Karachi Lit Fest 2012.

Blogdosts, I was sent this link and was really happy! Getting a visa to Pakistan wasn't exactly a cake walk ( understandably so!). I felt particularly relieved when mine came through, especially after I heard Arnab Goswami confiding to an audience during a panel discussion I shared with him on the 1st of Feb, that he'd been trying to go to Pakistan for the past six years! But zero luck with the visa. Well, this is going to be my third visit across the border, and I'm really looking forward to it. Thanks to Mr. Shaheed Malik, the Pakistani High Commissioner in Delhi ( plus, a li'l bit of help from friends in Pakistan), I was issued the visa within hours. The two day Lit Fest in Karachi promises to be a treat, given the impressive line up of authors and performers. I am going to be catching up with old friends and making new ones. That's what Lit Fests are for... is the Government of India listening?? Pehley Salman Rushdie ka tamasha, uske baad Taslima Nasreen .

*************

I got back from Delhi yesterday feeling like a new born baby. Ask me why? Go on... poochho, na? I had my first Turkish Hamam experience in the top class spa at the Aman. Natasha, who has been trained by expert Turkish Hamam professionals from Istanbul, did a fantastic job during the 90 minutes I was being pampered with a scrub made out of olive soap that created millions of fragrant bubbles. Steam and lashings of hot water ( from a large silver bowl ) later, made my body tingle deliciously. Steam and more hydration followed assorted rituals that are centuries old. This is by far the best spa experience ever. The genial General Manager, Robyn Bickford, is a former diplomat from New Zealand, married to a burly Sikh she met 26 years ago when she was posted in Delhi. Love happened! And here she is running one of the poshest properties in India.

I also managed a quick lunch at the sparkling, opulent, brand new Leela Hotel, with winter flowers in full bloom outside the brightly lit 'Qube'. What was I doing in Delhi? Ritu Kumar , India's pioneering designer, is someone I have known for over 30 years. When she requested me to attend a bold, experimental show that combined music, theatre, art and fashion, inspired by five iconic women from the Mahabharat ( Ganga, Kunti, Draupadi, Amba, Gandhari), I'd have been mad to refuse!!! 'Panchvastra' celebrated craft and textile revivalism. I am glad I was there braving a serious chill in the air... and Delhi socialites... ha ha ha!

************

strong With 65 sessions and over 100 writers, the Karachi Literature Festival promises another sell-out year

KARACHI: Shobha De, Vikram Seth, Hanif Kureishi are just a few of the big-ticket names for the Karachi Literature Festival this year. Small wonder that the organisers were all smiles at the press conference on Thursday to announce the programme of the yearly event, which is scheduled for February 11 and 12 at Karachi’s Carlton Hotel.



The British Council’s director for programmes, Martin Fryer, said that the festival has “almost become an institution in Pakistan”. Perhaps not an institution just yet – this will be only the third year – but few will dispute that it is one of the most important events for the city. In any case, it has the power to attract people from across the country, from media barons to socialites, young academics to veteran policy makers.



A slew of writers from Pakistan and India are on the bill for this year’s festival. Oxford University Press (OUP) Managing Director Ameena Saiyid said that the festival gave authors and readers a platform to meet each other and introduce Pakistan to foreign authors and vice versa. “It is two days of celebrating writing.”



The third edition of the Karachi Literature Festival (KLF) will include a number of diverse names and promising young authors, from scholar Anatol Lieven, the author of the recently released Pakistan: A Hard Country to BBC journalist Mirza Waheed, the author of The Collaborator, which is set in Kashmir. “There are many festivals around the region that have a great reputation but what we have in Karachi is quite remarkable,” Fryer said, noting the number of sessions packed in the two-day agenda.



Several of the authors, including those moderating and participating in panel discussions at KLF, were at the press conference, including Muneeza and Kamila Shamsie, H M Naqvi, Attiya Dawood and Asif Noorani, as well as dancer and actor Omar Rahim, whose film Meherjaan is being screened at the KLF. Saiyid also announced that clips of Sharmeen Obaid Chinoy’s Oscar-nominated short film Saving Face will be screened at the festival and Chinoy will be answering questions.



Organiser Asif Farrukhi said that the festival will be showcasing writing in regional languages, though “not as much as we would have liked”. Last year the festival was criticised for not including as many of these kind of writers. He also highlighted that 2012 is the death centenary of Nazeer Ahmed and the birth centenary of Saadat Hasan Manto. Historian Ayesha Jalal, who is also Manto’s niece, will feature in a session at KLF on his work.



The festival agenda isn’t just about writing – there are sessions on issues such as honour killings, militancy, minority rights and the role of the media.



But the festival’s organisers stressed that it was not necessarily a curatorial decision to include current news issues in the agenda, but it was a reflection of what writers were writing about, as Fryer put it. He also said that festivals were extremely important for people to freely express themselves and debate issues. Farrukhi said that while the choice of issues was not necessarily very topical, they came from the ongoing intellectual debate in literary and academic circles. He also hoped that the debate would be more intellectual and issue-oriented than the likes of what is on political television talk shows.



Saiyid also said she expects a great deal of dialogue and debate, given that the festival features sessions on Balochistan, Kashmir and Bangladesh, as well as on teaching in mother tongues. The OUP managing director also thanked the diplomatic missions of the US, UK, Germany and France for supporting the festival and sponsoring various authors to attend.



Shreela Ghosh, the director arts for British Council in South Asia, said that it was “absolutely vital” to champion the arts in the region to learn about each other. She said the agenda looked “exhausting, but glorious!”

Read More