'The young middle-class Indian is more concerned with Birkins and bikes and the EMIs on a new home and travelling abroad than politics,'

novelist Shobhaa De tells Rediff.com's Savera R Someshwar and Vaihayasi Pande Daniel.

Political parties and politicians are becoming richer and richer, while India has become poorer and poorer and poorer feels novelist Shobhaa De.

That was a good reason to profile politicians, with not too much kindness, in her latest novel Sethji.

De discusses politics, the bleak situation in India, its youth and the writing scene with Rediff.com's Savera Someshwar and Vaihayasi Pande Daniel.

The youth of India are very, very disillusioned about politics. What would you tell them?

They are entirely justified in feeling disillusioned.

But disillusionment is not going to change a thing. It's not enough to say I'm disillusioned! What are they going to do? Light candles, write protest songs, have overnight vigils somewhere, hunger strike for a couple of days? It doesn't help.

You have to channelise that disillusionment, that rage... You can't feel powerless. You cannot feel helpless. You cannot expect the change to come miraculously out of thin air... that a fairy godmother or godfather will show up and wave a wand and bingo! It will all be fixed.

If they want things to change, they have to speak up.

Like they say, the greatest tragedy is not the clamour of the strident voices of the bad, but the appalling silence of the good.

So, if they want that change, they have to jump into it, get their feet dirty, get their hands dirty and fight from within. They cannot stand on the sidelines and say I'm disillusioned, I'm hurt, I'm feeling terrible about this.

Look at what's happening in other countries. Look at the Arab Spring. Look at the young all across the world.... when they feel strongly enough, they do something about it. The young of India have to do that.

Maybe the situation in India is not as bad as Egypt.

I think the biggest difference is that we are still living in a democracy.

In Egypt and elsewhere, they were living under dictatorships where they had no voice at all. There was a huge amount of suppression, a huge amount of rage that was fermenting for decades. But there was no way of giving expression to it.

It's a different situation in India.

Having said that, I think the young middle-class Indian is more concerned with the Birkins and the bikes and the EMIs on a new home and travelling abroad. Their focus is different.

It's much more of an aspirational world that they want desperately for themselves rather than becoming politically active, politically aware or even engaging themselves enough.

They might do it through NGOs; they feel, I go on the weekend and teach slum children so I've done my bit for India but that's not enough. It's really not enough unless they actively engage in politics as it is today at the grassroots level or challenge the status quo, challenge the system.

I don't see that happening in a hurry, but who knows?

Is it because politics is not considered an honest, lucrative profession?

Lucrative, yes...

Lucrative yes, but it's not an honest way to make money. You can make a lot of money and, once you become even an MLA, you are set for life. But do they see this as sacrificing too much, giving up too much?

No, I don't think they (the youth) have the guts and the stomach for politics.

It's not about giving up a thing.

Everybody in India knows, even the illiterate man on the street knows that even if you get to the sarpanch level or the municipality, you will still make more money, illegally of course, than you ever would struggling and toiling in a factory or in any other noble, honest profession.

Everybody knows what the deal is in politics and perhaps that deters a few right-minded individuals.

The young Indian -- those who are in a hurry to make it in politics, and they talk about it openly -- says, 'Forget about becoming an entrepreneur, forget about setting up a factory, forget about borrowing money from banks which you may not be able to repay, just get into politics yaar! You'll make more money in five years than you'll make in 50 years.' It will be more than what their fathers and grandfathers have ever made...

That is the prevailing situation, that's how people feel. It's very cynical, but there it is.

As a mother, I feel this generation has none of the idealism that, let's say, my father's generation had.

As a mother, how do you personally try to grow your own children's idealism?

The only way to do it is to demonstrate it in your own life. Otherwise, it will be really hypocritical and nonsensical and today's kids will tell you exactly where to get off.

For example, if I were to indeed go out and buy a Birkin bag -- which I do not, and will never, possess -- and then come and preach austerity to them, they're going to laugh in my face. You have to walk the talk with your kids because they can't be fooled.

If there are issues that concern you deeply, as they do me and my husband, even at the risk of being preachy old fogies and having the children say, 'Oh God, there they go again with their bhashans (speeches) and gyaan (knowledge).' It doesn't deter us, we don't give up.

We keep talking about it and, hopefully, at least one percent of it does percolate.

The basic message, which I think is worth repeating to your kids, is that they should lead an honest life without compromise; they should lead a life of integrity where they can look themselves in the eye in the mirror and not shudder or blink.

That's the best you can do. Other than that, I'm not Raja Ram Mohan Roy.

What goes through your mind when you look at where India is, politically and economically, today?

You can't divide the two.

Politics and economics go hand in hand, so what we are seeing in the last few years is that the political parties and politicians have become richer and richer and richer while India has become poorer and poorer and poorer.

It's not that we don't have the wealth. We have the resources. We have the brains. We just don't have leadership. That is the crisis we are facing today and that is the crisis I hope the next election will set right.

What gives you a feeling of hope as far as India's future is concerned?

The young, the educated, the restless, the impatient and the angry.

Do you think not having the expectations and responsibilities of a family make for a different breed of politician?

You have to be married to politics if you take it seriously enough.

You really have to be married either to politics or to Bill Clinton; only then can you succeed.

If you have a Bill Clinton as your partner, then he's the one who's going to be driving you further into a political career that works for you as a couple. But even he is saying, and he sounded almost sad saying it, that Hillary wants to become a grandmother more than she wants to be the president of the United States of America.

It's very hard, especially for women in politics, to find that balance. Politics is hugely demanding. It takes a lot out of anybody, man or woman.

If you want to succeed, I'd say marry politics and forget about a sex life; forget about everything else.

The other side of the coin is dynastic politics -- where you want to hoard everything for your son/daughter; the desperate need to have your son/daughter succeed you.

What do you think goes on in the mind of this kind of politician?

I would love to know! I've tried in Sethji to explore what goes on in the minds of these politicians. But it is inevitable, it is natural.

One sees it in corporate life. Today, politics is business; it is dhanda. I've said it in the book.

Just as a large corporate house would want to keep all the money and the power within the family, and succession plans are based not on merit but on the son or the nephew or an adopted son or a foster son or son-in-law and so on, in politics too, it is the same principle.

In India, there is a great amount of reverence and respect for continuity and dynasty. It provides Indians with a sense of security. It's like being in a womb where you fully looked after; the environment is not alien to you.

Whether in politics or in corporate life, dynasty is something we've been accustomed to for decades. I don't see that changing in a hurry.

Going back to your book, it seems like you've exaggerated the stereotype of the politician or the political game. Was it deliberate?

Secondly, do you feel that Sethji really exists as he is exactly portrayed in your book with no shades of grey?

Well, tell me where the exaggerations are and I'll be able to answer your question.

What is exaggerated about (Sethji's daughter-in-law) Amrita's life or Sethji's life?

In the sense that politicians may be...

Ruthless? Immoral? Venal?

Well, yes, and also in the way they dress. Now they look a little bit like (Union ministers) Milind Deora and Jyotiraditya Scindia...

Suit-boot wallahs? Are they really all that different?

They have been marinated in a certain political environment. They may have better accents. They may dress sharper in designer wear. They may have been to foreign universities.

But scratch the surface and you see the same old (pauses) creature.

I am still trying to understand why you chose to portray Sethji in a dhoti?

Today, when you use the word neta (leader), the average Indian, even the educated young Indian, will think of the topi (cap) and the dhoti and a politician from perhaps the badlands in Bihar or Uttar Pradesh.

They will not think of a Jyotiraditya. They will not think of a Manish Tiwari. They will not think of a Milind Deora.

That is the politician that is imprinted on the public imagination. That is the politician who is the symbol for venality, corruption, immorality -- everything that we find loathsome in our system.

As far as grey shades are concerned, Sethji does have his vulnerabilities. I think they come through in many ways -- particularly when it comes to caste, to his own being and his health. There are areas where he is not even half as tough as Amrita for example she takes far tougher decisions.

To me, the dynamics of the book were about Sethji battling with the new India, a new political system, a new political order which has marginalised a lot of the Sethjis in our midst, whether it is in regional politics or in Delhi.

Sethji, for example, is out of his depth dealing with the polished new political creature in the corridors of power in Delhi or in the corporate corridors in Mumbai. But that does not mean they are not succeeding (in dealing with them).

Politicians like Sethji are big players in their own way; they are just unable to speak the new language of politics.

But the canny political brain ticks away regardless; there is no such word as compromise in Sethji's book. Nothing is a compromise if it means you are achieving what you set out to do and you have a target to meet.

Another character I'd like to talk about is Sethji's daughter-in-law, Amrita. She's strong, gutsy, vulnerable. There are many other women mentioned in the book, but all of them come across as very...

Phikha (watery)?

Well, the story was really about Amrita and Sethji. They were the central characters of the book and it is their relationship that drives the story and drives the book.

The other women characters are like cameos, they come and go. They are not that important; they weren't that key to the telling of the story from my point of view.

They don't come across as strong, not even Simran, the wannabe actress who has an affair with a powerful businessman.

People like Simran are survivors. They are creatures who exist on the periphery of politics, manage to get what they can -- a BMW or a rich boyfriend with connections or a farmhouse -- and run...

Even Sethji's political opponent within his own party is a tough lady. I don't think she is a pushover. But when she has to make a choice, she settles for the money. You see people like them all the time.

Coming back to exaggerated stereotypes, like, for instance, picking up the Birkin bag or getting into a fancy car... Is that deliberate?

It's deliberate.

If you notice, the book was written much, much, before the lovely, lovely, Hina Rabbani came to India with her Birkin. And all of India was obsessed with it.

There is a Birkin syndrome in India. We even have a movie character inspired by the Birkin, the Bagwati in Zindagi Na Milegi Doobara. That's the kind of iconic status we have given to a handbag, for Christ's sake.

So, yes, if Amrita is carrying a Birkin, I have used that particular bag deliberately!

You seem to be parodying, maybe as a side show in the book, our own lifestyle ...

Not mine. I don't possess a Birkin...

I mean, the way we treat our help for example. Is there a parody of all of us there and not just Sethji?

It's not a parody... it's just a social comment.

It is how we treat our help. Even in this day and age, in the 21st century, not much has changed. It is a feudalistic, patriarchal society. We still talk a different language to the help. And I am not just talking about the babalog in Delhi.

Whether it is in Mumbai or Kolkata or any other city, we do have these clearly defined lakshman rekhas (dividing lines) we simply will not cross.

You won't ask your help to sit down with you for a cup of tea at the dining table.

So it's not parodying it, it's merely reflecting our social reality.

How did you collect material for the Delhi part? That's tough because there's so much about politicians that we still don't know.

I didn't exactly move into one of those kothis (palatial houses) for my research if that's your question (laughs).

Having monitored politics in Delhi and elsewhere for over two-and-a-half decades, and having interacted and met with several politicians from Delhi, I have a pretty good sense of what goes on inside their heads.

I've visited their houses and know the way they live, the way they dress.

You have to be a keen observer. You need to listen. You need to be curious.

At the end of it all, it's a story that I am telling; I am a story teller.

Fiction is really not about re-creating and re-producing something. That would be journalese; that would be reportage.

A lot of it has to do with imagination, thank God, so a lot of it is imagined.

You seem to go back to the Shobhaa De formula. It's not there in India Superstar or in Letters To My Children, but it's there in your other books. You seem to believe that's a good formula to go by.

There is no such thing as a formula.

I mean, it's like saying what is the Yash Chopra formula? If there was such a formula, everybody would make a Yash Chopra kind of film. It's not that tough.

You can say I will look at all of Yash Chopra's films and pick the best elements and make a blockbuster like him.

The films he made were the films that were within him; they were the films he wanted to make; they were the films he was most comfortable with. It was turf he knew.

Similarly, my novels have all reflected, at different times, my interests, my travels, my curiosity, my concerns. And the books that you refer to, whether it was the India book or Letters To My Children

They tapped much more into the journalist in me because they were tracking changes in India at various levels -- whether it was in marriage or parenting or social change within India.

This book takes me back to fiction, back to story-telling which for me is Wow! It's like a luxury... It's like checking into the Ananda Spa in the Himalayas and just letting the imagination flow like the Ganga.

Your earlier book, Superstar India celebrates India, but Sethji de-celebrates India. Why is that?

Superstar India was written when we were really on the up, up and up.

2007 was such a fabulous year for India. There was so much hope and so much optimism. We really did walk with a different swagger. And we could not have anticipated this change in such a short span of time.

Superstar India was upbeat because I was feeling upbeat. India turned 60, I turned 60. It was like a parallel story.

And then came 2008 and the big crash worldwide; it didn't happen in India then but it did impact us hugely and everything went a bit out of kilter after that but...

So the de-celebrating of India in this book is reflecting your mood as well...

Completely. All that is awful and wrong and depraved about politics in India today is, in a way, symbolised in Sethji and the cast of characters; it shows us the amoral world that we are endorsing even through our silence.

So it was important for me to write this book now.

From romance and sex and Bollywood to politics... how did that transition happen in terms of your novels?

I wouldn't strictly call them romance and sex and Bollywood in quite the same way. I think each one of them was representative of a strong social change.

All of them were, in some way, a comment on what India was going through (then) which was quite cataclysmic at the time.

In many ways, they (De's novels) were ahead of their time, even if I say so (myself). For example, Socialite Evenings, which people imagined was just -- when I mentioned Malabar Hill and the life in south Mumbai, which is the life I know best; I've grown up here since the age of 10 -- a life I had invented.

Actually, that was the new India. That was a society in transition. At that time, we were not aware of it.

The people I described, the personalities in that book were individuals who I knew; they existed.

But when I mentioned Malabar Hill -- it was quite a prominent locale in the book -- people imagined I had merely superimposed Beverly Hills in the Indian context.

There was such disbelief! People could not imagine that was the high life of Mumbai -- it was pre-Antilla (Mukesh Ambani's home in Mumbai) you must remember. But, clearly, we were moving towards Antilla.

Socialite Evenings captured all of that in a way that was very truthful. Maybe people could not stomach that or they imagined I had imagined it all, which wasn't the case. It was reality as I knew it.

Similarly, Starry Nights, I think, remains the boldest and the most candid look at Bollywood from the inside out, rather than an outsider's version of it.

Let me put it this way -- it was not Madhur Bhandarkar looking at Page 3. It's very much a felt experience. Having edited Stardust for 13 years, I have an inside view.

Starry Nights remains, even today, the most definitive book about aspects of Bollywood that people still don't want to acknowledge. We still want to pretend there is no casting couch. We still want to pretend there is no underworld money. We still want to pretend it's all kosher.

It never was; it never can be.

What do you think of this whole boom in writing? There are so many books being released. Who are your favoured writers among the young set and why?

It's almost a flood of self-expression out there.

And why not? It's like a tsunami of literature coming out.

Everyone has a book and everyone wants to tell their story or everybody has a great idea for a book or a life experience that they imagine will transform the world.

I think it's fantastic because, for decades, there was no way for young people to get published. You had to be a name. Now, how do you become a name if no one wants to look at your manuscript? So it was a bit of a Catch 22 there.

Today, there are so many publishers and big players and international brands... the biggest merger (publishers Penguin and Random House) has just taken place. There will be more money. That will support the publishing industry. That will support young authors. I'm all for it.

Today, self-publishing is no longer considered disgraceful or demeaning. Those who cannot find publishing houses are quite happy to spend their own money and self-publish.

There are platforms across the board -- there are digital options. The world's gone mad with people wanting to express themselves, whether it's on YouTube or through writing. And the platforms are available.

To pick a favourite author would be a little difficult because, well, I can either write my own books or read everybody else's. And, as a publisher myself, I get at least 10 manuscripts a week to go through. And I enjoy that very much.

I see the vibrancy. I see the quality of writing. I see the ideas more than anything else. There are people wanting to say new things and they are saying them very well. So, as of now, it's boom time.

I hope the boom time stays. I expect that it will because younger and younger people are finding their voices and people are interested in those voices; they are finding their readers. They are finding an audience.

I don't want you to list only one name...

Throw a couple of names at me and I'll tell you.

Well, let's throw the most conventional ones... there's Rashmi Bansal, Amish Tripathi...

Yes, good writer. I liked his work (Amish Tripathi). I like what he stands for.

He's smart. He has reinvented and repackaged mythology in a way that is very sexy. Like a good marketing man, he has thought about how to position his books, how to create a brand.

I think he'd be in the top three in the publishing world today.

Anybody who you think may be a young Shobhaa De?

(Laughs) well, I've been waiting in journalism for 40 years for the clone to arrive. Waiting in fiction...

>But why have clones? Why have a young anyone?

There are so many young, fresh, wonderful, original voices. Why not just raise a toast to the original rather than a clone?

What's next on the anvil? Is a new book already in your head?

Yes, it's in my head.

I'm looking at a trilogy right now, but more than that I don't know because I need to nurse this baby -- that's Sethji -- through at least till the baby is a toddler and can walk on its own.

Once I am done with that, because the promotional activity will take at least another year, let's see...

But the book is definitely there. It's exploding out of my head, waiting to be written. So it's fiction for sure for the next five years.

Any hints?

No. My husband tried to pry it out of me -- he said could it be this, could it be that, you've left a window open here, could it be that character playing a more prominent... I told him I am not giving anything away for free.

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Toko! Toko!

Gong Li is in the house!

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Sorry, Blogdosts.... I forgot all about posting this one. But, as they say... better late than never! It appeared in The Telegraph as a year-ender...

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                                              2013: Toko! Toko!

I can’t seem to get that idiotic, catchy Honey Bunny jingle out of my head! I am hoping if I repeat it often enough and get further infected by its upbeat mood, everything will be ‘Toka! Toka!’ in 2013. What the hell is ‘Toko! Toko!’ ? I don’t know. I don’t care. It sounds good. More importantly, it makes me feel good. Try saying it a few times yourself. Go on – it’s easy! After feeling foolish the first couple of times, it will roll off your tongue easily and possibly bring a silly smile to your face as well. Fingers crossed, but I am desperately hoping the next year will be equally breezy and fun. God knows how we endured 2012 without losing it completely. Especially, during the last few weeks when we were hit by one nasty jolt after another.The worst one being the brutal rape of a 23-year-old young girl in a Delhi bus. What a horrendous end to a horrible year!

My reading is that 2013 will see us obsessed by 2014. We shall sleep walk through the coming year, with all our collective energies focused on the Big Moment in 2014 when India votes. Unless, of course, we are slapped with a mid-term poll ( hardly mid-term, though!), which we can least afford. If that takes us by surprise, we should be in a better position to anticipate another dramatic, unfactored development – a third front. If the third front does become a reality , we will then have to come to terms with a fresh player. The newest prime ministerial candidate on the block. And – hold your breath  -  that person could well turn out to be  (don’t laugh just yet)  Mulayam Singh Yadav. Everything is pointing towards such a scenario. As of now, the Congress Party is playing coy and refusing to nominate Rahul Baba for the top job. With that all important nomination in a limbo, the BJP is also avoiding the ‘M-word’ ( ‘M’ for Modi). This despite Modi’s convincing and expected recent win in Gujarat. If  the guessing game continues for much longer, it will be Advantage Mulayam. And if that happens, I’ll be most interested in monitoring  developments in the Bachchan parivaar. Why them? Well, Jaya is very much a Mulayam Singh loyalist with a visible and vocal presence in parliament. Meanwhile, Mr. Bachchan , as the brand ambassador of Modi’s Gujarat, is obliged to stick to his script so long as he’s the State’s ambassador. Recently, the bahuraani of the household, the beauteous Aishwarya Rai, has also been heard singing praises of Gujarat. That leaves Abhishek. Will Junior B align himself to his mother’s political party and declare  he’s a true blue U.P.walla? If that happens, would it be fair to say the Bachchans , between them have carved up large tracts of India in an impressive way? And that Bachchan Jr. has proved he’s a pucca Mama’s Boy? Aaradhya, being a new age baby, may float her own party down the line. But  for now, a fashion line called Baby B is entirely in order. Sigh! Speculations can be so meaningless and yet so delightful.

Mamatadi, according to West Bengal watchers, has spent most of last year mopping up crores and crores of  lolly so as to consolidate her supremo position within the party. Isn’t that always the official excuse of any new Chief Minister? No hard cash. No power. If her erratic policies and bizarre actions are leaving critics dumb founded, her supporters are expressing their loyalty each time she appears on a public platform protesting against something or the other. The rest of India remains flummoxed, mainly because people are unable to understand even a single word of what Didi  screams herself hoarse over. Was that Bangla? Ingreji? Hindi?Swahili? What is annoying Miss Hawa Hawaii -  FDI ? FBI? Something else? Your guess is as good as mine! All one can tell is that she is in a bad mood perpetually. Except when she’s dancing a jig with SRK. And so foul is that mood , one critical word against her and off to the clink goes the naughty offender! Hitler Didi  has become her popular moniker.

2013 has been officially declared the Year of Narendra Modi, now that the Gujarat Chief Minister has pulled off a hat trick in his state. Ab Dilli Door Nahi. From C.M. to P.M. It has been a long and well planned journey. Modi Dabannged India in style and now there’s no stopping the man. His victory speech said it all. Modi addressed the nation in general, and L.K.Advani in particular, when he promised his adoring supporters they’d be treated to speeches delivered in Hindi from now on. As a run up to the gaddi in Delhi, Modi has mugged up his lines very well indeed. With Rahul Gandhi still waffling and playing will-he-won’t-he  games, the Congress Party looks kinda like a headless chicken. If Chidambaram agrees to keep the hot seat  still warmer for the Reluctant Prince, the entire dynamics of the game will change dramatically. Chidambaram as a stand- in Prime Minister is a far more acceptable alternative to some other candidate plucked out of nowhere. Madamji trusts the canny P.C. ( well…. to the extent she trusts her own shadow), plus, old boy Singh and Chids go back a long way…remember, they are veteran World Bank buddies. It could be a really cosy set up, unless of course, Madamji herself decides the time is right to take over India . Officially, that is.

Sports’ pundits are taking bets 2013 will finally see Sachin Tendulkar heading back to the pavilion for good. I’d say, hold those bets. Sachin will retire when he is good and ready to walk. Not because the world of cricket wants him to. Chances of Dhoni marching into the sunset before Sachin does, are pretty high.Sweet irony, there! Dada will have the last laugh… as always. He knows his job as an expert commentator on television is safe. Sachin can’t talk, saala!

India only has two and a half sports stars to begin with. Right now our love affair is with Mary Kom. Mary herself seems keener on fashion shows and catwalks than pulling on those gloves and punching the hell out of opponents in the ring. Ditto for the buxom Sania and the toothy Saina. Fashion’s gain is the sports’ world’s loss.But these ladies do have nice legs and boobs. So who’s complaining?

In Bollywood, the Khans will be battling it out for that all important 100- crores hit. While nobody’s looking…. Ajay Devgn, Hritik Roshan, and Akshay Kumar may crack the 200- crore barrier and laugh all the way to the bank. Katrina Kaif and Kareena Kapoor will keep those hot moves going in item number after item number.  From Fevicol to Superglue these two will stay in business . As for Deepika P, who knows, she may slither past them when they aren’t looking. She’s like that. Besides, Priyanka is far too busy in the city to care about Bollywood. And Vidya may produce a little  balan of her own now that the honeymoon is over.

As for us hacks and tv anchors… we’ll keep toiling away, demanding answers from the nation to questions nobody understands!

2013 is bound to rock! Happy New Year, readers!

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 A mid-morning coffee break in Dubrovnik.... please note : no lipstick! No bob-cut. Painted and dented? Who me?????

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This appeared in The Week.....

                                 Lipstick and Coca Cola….

Abhijeet Mukherjee’s crass remarks about ‘dented and painted’ women who go to discos, made me think of my father who belonged to another century ( he was born in 1910). I figured my Baba was ten times more modern and progressive in his thinking than this  52- year- old M.P. claiming to represent the 21^st century. My mother did not wear lipstick. One of my two sisters did.And I have always had a love-hate relationship with it. My father may not have ‘approved’ of lip colour, but he didn’t stop us from using it. Nor did he make us feel diminished because we did. But others around him certainly didn’t camouflage their attitude, which was one of  undisguised disapproval. To make matters worse, I sported what was termed ‘bob cut’ hair. And dared to expose my arms in sleeveless frocks. This shocked the neighbourhood and led to several unflattering, unsavoury comments that questioned my character. Seen in the context of the giddy ‘60s, such  narrow minded responses are understandable. But when an elected representative of the people shoves not just his foot but the entire leg in his mouth in this day and age, he cuts a very sorry spectacle indeed. What an embarrassment Abhijeet Mukherjee must be to his father, who is not just any other dad of a gauche son, but the President of India himself!

Perhaps Abhijeet was not really himself when he was caught on camera uttering those foolish words.But when he refused to express support for the protestors at India Gate, his apology was rendered instantly insincere and meaningless. He uttered the words in an emotionless, robotic manner, like he had been coerced into doing so.  An apology ‘under orders’ has zero worth. But let’s forget this solitary sorry specimen for now. Abhijeet is representative of countless men, and yes –  a fair number of women, as well  - those  who pass judgments on women who refuse to conform to prescribed rules. These rules include wearing make- up (“paint”) and increasingly, jeans. It is automatically assumed that women, who present themselves in a certain way, are  in reality nothing but bar hopping nymphomaniacs out to destroy our precious society with their wayward ways.

We have been brainwashed over decades to think of ‘fashionable’ ladies as harlots. Or at any rate, women whose moral codes are dodgy. Despite the vast number of  crack women professionals in every conceivable field in India, the silly perception still persists – a lipsticked mouth spells trouble. It remains a strict no-no. Closely followed by long painted nails and kajaal. This is before we even get to the women’s apparel. If it is fitted and reveals body contours, the woman stands little chance of being taken seriously by anyone. Never mind, that a saree draped in a certain way, can be far more revealing and seductive. This sort of ridiculous stereotyping of our women folk, has led to a host of social issues that go well beyond ‘eve-teasing’. When Abhijeet mocked what he dubbed the ‘pink revolution’, he was tapping into something deeper and desperately serious. Misogynists  like Abhijeet ( too many of them!), cannot and will not accept that a great deal has changed in Indian society since those distant days when women had no choice but to go along with society’s archaic laws that dictated the way women lived their lives – from their appearance to their conduct. Abhijeet’s arrogance is the arrogance of the ruling class ( not politicians alone, but men). His unguarded but essentially nasty insinuations may come back to haunt him later. In the interim, it is his stoic father who will have to keep his chin up and stay out of this messy fracas.

When I shared a TV platform with Abhijeet the night all hell broke loose, I actually felt sorry for the man. He looked drugged and robotic as he obstinately kept mouthing the same prepared lines. His expression was impassive. Most times he appeared bored. There was no reference to the horrific rape that had triggered off the protests in the first place. The subtext was clear : women ask for it. Especially those women who dance in discotheques and then turn up with candles because it is a trendy thing to do. The disconnect with Young India could not be more blatantly expressed. His idiocy will go down as one of the most chauvinistic comments of  2012. The world will move on. But I still wonder whether Abhijeet and others like him ever will.

Peace and safety in 2013, readers!

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With the beautiful Atika Gupta who works with the Oxford University Press, at the Apeejay Kolkata Lit Fest, which I greatly enjoyed.Didi wants to transform Kolkata into London! Well, she succeeded with the weather. It was freezing1 The coldest winter in Kolkata in 40 years! The dahlias were in full bloom but I failed to buy some from New Market as the florists there didn't stock any! Why????
 I saw the most gorgeous variety blooming happily on the magnificent lawns of Shirin and Priti Paul's stunning mansion at Alipore. Also in Rakhi and Aveek Sarkar's garden in Ballygunj.Blessed are the cities that enjoy seasons! All this in retrospect. When I was shivering inside the incredible Victoria's Memorial, where the inaugural function was held ( under Warren Hasting's statue), all I could think of was a hot bath in a warm room! Terrible! Especially since the keynote address was being delivered by Shyam Benegal and it covered 100 years of cinema!

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Rape.... and Rakhis

Attn: Suparna,Jayanti,Olga                     Shobhaa’s Take       10thJan2013

                                 Rape and raakhis….

           “ Quick… give me a raakhi… I’m being raped!” It cannot possibly get more bizarre. A nasty four letter word called R-A-P-E has polarized, even pulverized Indian society. And it refuses to go away. It is not just about Nameless Nirbhaya’s brutal sexual assault any longer. It is about us. How we, as a people respond to one of the most heinous crimes in the world. The depressing answer to that is – atrociously. So atrociously, in fact, that it is time to worry about a widespread sickness that at this point appears terminal. To make matters far worse, we have raging maniacs in our midst -  deranged,  Godmen, equally depraved politicians and other nut cases with a dangerous agenda. Not so surprisingly, these men have followers and backers. Asaram Bapu ( whose bapu is he, really?), has a criminal record, yet claims he is a spiritual leader. Owaisi is a flamboyant hate monger who is an overnight ‘celebrity’ cashing in on his loathsome utterances. Asaram’s brilliant suggestion has led to raging debates across the board. That he had the absolute audacity to take on this sensitive case ( Nirbhaya’s), before the mourning period is over, shows his pathetic, depraved mentality. But what has enraged everybody is his outrageous advice to women in similar, life threatening situations : don’t defend yourselves, he suggests, but plead with your tormentor instead. Appeal to the beast or beasts, to treat you as a sister and spare you. If you fight back ( as Nirbhaya so bravely did), you are asking for trouble. Worse – you may be inviting it. A woman should know her place in society. Make an instant brother out of the rapist. Beg of him to spare your life. That is the only hope. So, according to this despicable Bapu, this is how it goes : a woman’s most effective weapon when faced with a rapist is to whip out a handy raakhi ( never leave home without a few, ladies!), grab the  man’s arm , tie it quickly around his wrist and start whining for mercy. It’s either that, or you are dead meat. This crazed Bapu is 73 years old. Has a foul record which includes murder charges, land grabbing, molestation and assault. Despite all his murky deals, there he is ranting away while his followers applaud and shake their heads approvingly. If such a man can utter what he has and not generate vast degrees of absolute revulsion, it is not he who is sick, it is us. For he hasn’t come from Mars. He is also ‘us’.

As is Owaisi .

So, what do we do with such grotesque men? Arrest them? Gag them? Shun them? Forget it! We are stuck with them, for better or worse. And it is time to open our eyes to what is staring us in the face. These two are not alone. They have the sympathetic ears of a pretty large section of our society. If the Bapu has 300 ashrams worldwide and 20 million followers, Owaisi’s fans outside the court , and at the airport , were no less impressive in terms of numbers. These two fellows are merely the ugly faces of what we refuse to acknowledge – a pathological hatred, either towards women, or a community, or both. Both are guilty of waging war against humanity at large. But how does one punish such people? Is it even worth our while to do so in the standard way? You know the drill. Frame charges. Go to court. And then wait for eternity!

What has deeply disturbed people across India…. and increasingly, in pockets around the world, is the attitude of the ruling class. Damage control of the clumsiest kind is no substitute for concern. In any case, the time for mere concern is long over. If alarm bells are not ringing inside several pompous heads, they bloody well ought to be. What Nirbhaya’s death (and the reactions to it) has triggered off is a long suppressed rage against the way this country is run. The fact that citizens get screwed day in and day out, while so-called netas strut around amassing indecent amounts of wealth, is no longer viewed with the old chalta hai attitude. Nahi chalega! Each new detail that’s emerging about the tragedy is only adding to the disconnect. When a politician arrogantly states that ‘the government does not go to the people’, his remark strikes at the heart of the problem. It demonstrates the extent of the ‘ghamand’ that our elected representatives have consistently flaunted…. and we have docilely tolerated. This is one case where a convenient ‘setting’ is not possible. Perhaps Nirbhaya’s assaulters, including the under age monster, will be punished swiftly and severely. But even as we deal with them, thousands more will be guilty of even worse crimes involving women…. even, female toddlers and infants!

Bapu Asaram and people like him are as guilty as those hooded rapists we despise. Until we condemn and get rid of these Bapus, netas and assorted beasts in our society, women will remain soft targets. But even in their utter vulnerability, they will not carry raakhis in their handbags or beg tormentors for mercy. That day is over. And a brand new revolution is underway. We have our own weapon. It is called The Female Vote. See you at the polls, guys.

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India's Biggest Bores...

 We started the new year in Colombo. It was just brilliant! More on our Colombo trip ( avec pictures) in another post ). For now, I am still in birthday mode, after dancing my feet off at our Gangnam style house party! That was followed by a family dinner at our favourite Golden Dragon. This mellow picture with Aditya was clicked by Avantikka I have still to open my gifts and thank all the wonderful people who wished me. 

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 I rashly wrote this year ender for Outlook.... a week later, I am still alive! Phew! Yenjoy!!!!

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How incredibly lucky are we in India! Think about it…. so many essentials are perpetually in short supply. But the one thing we never run out of is bores. No dearth of bores in our great and good land -  that’s something worth celebrating, surely? We can do without diesel,water,power,food. Roti,kapda,makaan ko maaro goli! But bores? Mera Bharat Maha Boring. Mere Desh ke Bores in the Champions League. India would win all the major medals in the Bores’ Olympics. Well, at least we excel at something. Which is really amazing  given our  Boredom Threshold which remains pretty high. We tolerate bores…. indulge them…praise them… pamper them.Why? We are extraordinarily unkind to animals, children, senior citizens and women. But bores have it really good in our society. Have we not heard of terminal boredom which kills? Why then does the milk of human kindness overflow when it comes to putting up with a bunch of people who can generate nothing more than a yawn each time they pop up on our radars? Maybe we are secretly masochistic and crave punishment. Or maybe we see bores as harmless creatures. That isn’t it, is it?  Perhaps we are just too lazy to bother with bores. We let them be, just as we let roaches and other creepy crawlies be. Because we are used to them. Our in- built intolerance is reserved for more important matters. ‘Outsiders’, for example. We also hyper ventilate when we ourselves are monumentally bored – like during a cricket match when the run rate is so low one wonders whether the team is comatose. The rest of the time, is spent in a mild, good natured way, fighting dengue and other afflictions. Trying not to get run over by killer buses. Attempting to stay alive in cramped , barricaded apartments with murderous watchmen guarding us. Or ducking bullets flying around as brothers shoot one another. All in a day’s work, as they say. Bollywood be damned. The multi-star scripts of  our  daily lives are so action packed, they make Dabbang- 2,3,4 appear dull in comparison. The world is going nuts over Psy and his silly Gangnam dance. It’s nothing compared to Salman Khan’s buckle dance. Seeti maaroing is what we are pretty good at. Which is why one wonders how come we are so relaxed about those bores? Why don’t we let them know when their sell-by dates expire?Surely it has nothing to do with politeness? We are one of the rudest people on earth! Toh bhi, we remain chuup and when our bores refuse to khisko aside. Since hints and nudges have not worked so far. It’s time to give that bloody shove…

Lists are always subjective, arbitrary, annoying and entirely forgettable if not totally irrelevant. That was the exact thinking when I was asked by the Editor of Outlook to compile this one. My first thought was, “ Kyon boss, aur koi bakra nahi mila kya?”   I had guessed correctly . Who else would be idiotic enough to do this?Clearly, the Editorial team wanted a reckless someone to name names and bell a few cats and tom cats. Chalo. I conceded. It’s a dirty job. But someone’s got to do it…

Having put my foot into it, I was very tempted to start with myself. That was one name that would not have been challenged or contested. And I am neither fishing, nor being falsely modest. I jauntily assumed such an inclusion would be shot down by the chivalrous editor. However, in case some of you have strong feelings on the exclusion, do write in…

The difficult part was simply this : how does one separate maha bores from ordinary bores? We decided to be fair (but not lovely), and just list out the Top Ten Bores in no special order.

Anna Hazare: Poor guy. It was never his fault, okay?Here he was, minding his own (rather messy) business in Ralegaon, whipping a few wicked drunkards, threatening to cut off the hands of those who thieved…  ordering womenfolk to stay indoors at all times… all pretty lofty methods of ensuring dem village folks behaved. Anna himself  led a Spartan existence, sleeping in the courtyard of the temple and majestically dispensing justice. All for the good of the people, of course. One fine day he decided it was time to take on the corrupt of the land  and demand major reforms in the rotten state of India. This entirely unique idea found several takers. Soon, sweet old Anna was appropriated – not just by his super smart Gang of  Four, but by the entire nation. Initially, Anna looked bewildered. But soon, he was an absolute pro at it. By the time he arrived in Delhi to begin the first of several protest fasts, he had become national property. And his coterie had developed the enviable skills of top international event managers. Anna  himself  became incidental. He was  produced and used as and when required, mainly for photo-ops. And then left to go hungry, while the coterie hogged the limelight, pranced and danced for the cameras, and provided pithy quotes which were attributed to poor Anna. His many followers wearing the trademark topis declaring ‘Mee Anna Hazare’, soon reconciled themselves to the loss of power of that particular imagery. Anna himself, lost the plot … and the coterie. His tedious harangues sounded monotonously recycled. And sure enough, the trusting, naive candle-bearers moved on looking for the next Messiah. Anna was never the new Mahatma. He was just a simple- minded peasant with good intentions . Now, he is just one more cipher nobody is interested in. Pity.

Manmohan Singh :  Mr. Blue Turban has his last and final shot at redemption coming up real soon. If he shrewdly grabs it and performs a chhota sa miracle with India’s flip flop economy, he’ll still be given credit for ‘liberating’ the country from its original socialist experiment that yielded little more than a gargantuan bureaucracy. India has been bored and fed up with the Prime Minister for the longest time. You know why? We often wonder whether he exists! His maun vrat on most issues has frustrated citizens to an extent they can’t help but mock him publicly. Even that doesn’t elicit reactions. Not an expression crosses his face. His eyes remain blank and stony no matter what. And the few times he does open his mouth, one hears uninspiring gobbledegook that is horribly aggravating. And yet, he hangs on… and on… and on. Because he suits the system. And mainly because he suits Madam. Between these two exceptionally inarticulate people, India struggles to make some sense of what’s going on. Imagine our pathetic haalat – suspended between the Sphinx ( Sonia G) and the Robot ( Manmohanji).

Narendra Modi  : Sorry about getting personal, but in Modi’s case, it’s impossible not to. He has carefully constructed a persona that is designed for media. Nothing but nothing about Gujarat’s Chief Minister is either natural or accidental. And how can it be? Given his controversial history, Brand Narendra Modi is bound to attractpassionate  comment. From his rapidly expanding girth, tightly sheathed in a peculiar short sleeved garment ( neither a kurta, nor a bush shirt), Modi Bhai generates heated debate each time he steps out. One gets the feeling, he loves it… thrives on it.But what is the man who is lobbying so obviously and so hard to become the next Prime Minister of India, actually saying? Very little. Yes, his pitch is consistent and it basically boils down to this : Come to Gujarat and make money. Terrific. That’s the sum total of his inspiring message. Who is he inviting to Gujarat? Fat cats who already have scads of lolly. Who does that benefit? Modi! Do his followers mind? Not at all. Does anybody dare raise the ‘G’ –word ( Godhra) any more? Naaaah. It’s old hat. The ‘new’, ‘ improved’ Modi is as good at white washing  sordid recent history as that ‘new’ ‘improved’ detergent cleans soiled clothes.

Mamata Banerjee : The minute someone in Kolkata addresses a woman as ‘Didi’, you are doomed. There are countless Didis floating around West Bengal’s chaotic Capital. But there is only one Mamatadi – thank God! What can one say about this one woman toofan? She is so out of control as to be almost funny! How can anybody take this Didi seriously? Her tempestuous style of running her government is worrying.Slaps and shouts have replaced files and rules. And yet, the fact that nobody protests ( errr… remember, you can be thrown into the clink for doodling), does make Mamatadi India’s Tyrant number one. Her hysterically pitched speeches impress her devotees in Kolkata’s teeming bustees. But make zero sense to others. Raving and ranting in a manner that overshadow a banshee, Mamata has made a career out of disruptive politics. The Commies are puffing on their pipes, swiveling Scotch and having the last laugh. They know they’ll be back. Let Didi  hyper ventilate for now.

Abdul Kalam : I want to be the ex-President’s hair stylist! Whether as the occupant of India’s grandest, most ostentatious address ( Rashtrapati Bhavan), or more recently in his latest avatar as a free wheeling speaker on a permanent lecture circuit, the loveable, affable Abdul Kalam has never neglected his silvery locks. Not a single hair is out of place, as our friend travels across the country talking to students about how to lead a more meaningful life. He says the same old stuff. But he repeats it in such an engaging  way, that it doesn’t really matter. His child- like delivery crammed with clichés that would have made Dale Carnegie blush, attract large crowds. His books which package the same messages, continue to sell well. And yes,his trademark silvery locks ( slightly thinning now), remain impeccably coiffed. Maybe he uses Aishwarya Rai endorsed L’Oreal hair products, because like Rai, he’s ‘worth it’!

Sachin Tendulkar : Sachin’s a swell guy.Really. He, the God-like creature we  have unconditionally worshipped for 26 years, through good times and bad, through tennis elbows and back injuries. Through curly locks and distressed tresses. Through non-sawaaris on his Ferrari. Through centuries and ducks. Now what’s left for the newly minted Member of Parliament to do?  Errr…. there is the Bharat Ratna , his devotees keep demanding. And had Pranabda not beaten him to the Rashtrapati Bhavan, there were absurd murmurs about Aapla Sachin as Prezzie . Anything is possible when it involves a canny marketing team positioning the Master Blaster. Anything at all…except retirement. Bring up the ‘R- word’ at your own peril. It is not an option. God never retires. Which is fine. And may Sachin continue to bat for India even on his 60^th birthday.But one thing he has to promise : no more interviews!

 N.R. Narayana Murthy : First things first. He has an amazing life – and an even more amazing wife! Many books will be written on him. Sudha, meanwhile will write many more books that are not on him. There will be a monsoon of books featuring or written by the Murthys. By any standards, they are an extraordinary couple. ‘Simble and humble’. Very. When ‘others’ in the same financial league  are building extravagant homes and leading lives defined by super luxury, Murthy is busy making his own bed, perhaps washing his own shirt-pant, and generally leading the deliberately super frugal life of a billionaire who hates ostentation. This a bit bizarre. What’s the point of all that wealth creation if the wealth remains notional? I’m sure Sudha likes nice sarees (not that hers are not nice). And a few baubles now and then. But Shri Murthy will have none of it. Which kind of spoils the billionaires’ party. The rest start feeling guilty and embarrassed. They hesitate to book the Versailles Palace for their darling daughter’s 16^thbirthday party. They decided a couple of private jets for a family of four are enough and cancel the order for the third. They keep that beach villa in the South of France on hold. And hastily sell the brand new super yacht for peanuts to that pushy builder next door.Narayana Murthy continues to spread goodness and light, ignoring the taunts of  his less Gandhian peers.Please Sirji, don’t make everybody feel this guilty! If you have such disdain for money, why did you make so much of it in the first place?

Subhodh Gupta : Each time we look at our stainless steel buckets, kitchen bartans and lotas, we see multi crores. That’s what they are worth when piled up at the centre of a fancy art gallery in London. What do we know about High Art that is making a major statement about popular culture ? What our untrained, plebian eyes see is hundreds of daily use utensils stacked up in a frightfully posh foreign setting. And we are authoritatively told by big ticket art critics that those buckets and lotas are not just buckets and lotas. They are major works of art which are sold for millions of dollars Nobody dares to argue. We go back to our own kitchens and bathrooms and start rearranging pots and pans hoping someone will notice the artistic vision behind the positioning. Stupid thing to do. Subhodh has already done it! The possibility of Gupta running out of pots and pans doesn’t arise in India. Our mandis are full of them. So, as long as the Western art buyers continue to put down serious money for desi bathroom accessories, Subhodh stays in business. Apres la lota…. le deluge?

Aamir Khan : He insists he is not Bollywood’s ‘Thinking Actor’. Let’s believe him. But if he can be as spectacularly successful without wearing that mantle, it makes him  the one and only Awesome Aamir. Wow! In his ‘talaash’ for perfection in all that he does ( which includes travelling overseas with his newborn son Azad, strapped to his chest), Aamir has set near impossible standards for others to emulate ( in vain, in vain!). His limited edition TV show got the numbers and the moolah. He wept. His interviewees wept. Viewers wept. It was a Sunday weepathon like no other.Awesome Aamir does not believe in half measures. He is an all-or-nothing guy. He shuns labels, refuses to acknowledge he’s a control freak, but has the last word  in everything regardless – whether it’s in the way his movies are shot, edited, packaged and marketed, or in his absolute, unchallenged say in other aspects of his life - from endorsements to investments. Smart, hardworking, focused and intense…. Sure, Aamir is all that. But fans and foes alike are waiting for their icon to slip up – just once. Do something wild and unexpected. Get into a public brawl like the other two Khans. Punch co-diners like the fourth Khan. Be human, without wearing the tee declaring as much. The Mr. Perfect persona is a little too predictable. Even the unpredictable Kiran will agree.Go on, Aamir. Make a mistake – even a calculated one. More fans guaranteed!

Rahul Gandhi : Here’s an upfront admission: I have a  soft spot for the Reluctant Prince of the Congress party. I had a soft spot for his dad, as well. What to do? These guys are like that only. Good looking, non-threatening…and those dimples!  Rahul Baba kitna sweet lagta hai! But one can’t lead a party or run a country armed with nothing more than those darling dimples. Or….. or…. can one? Going by the manner in which Rahul Baba is being pushed, it is entirely likely. If that’s scary, relax! It could get a lot worse. Think of the alternatives – Nitin? Narendra?Nitesh? Rahul’s a chweetie-pie. One wishes he would just be left alone to do what comes naturally -  hang with his buddies, party in London, attend fashion shows… in other words, do what any good looking, immensely wealthy, well connected, super powerful single guy would do – chill and have fun. But no! There are those ( mama Sonia, included), who want to see him as the savior. Saviour of what? India … or their own skins? Poor chap has no choice but to pretend he’s interested in a life in politics. There he is gamely addressing the unwashed masses… occasionally putting his foot in the mouth, but otherwise sticking to the script given to him by his minders, Rahul Baba is still to outgrow his political diapers. But is anybody listening?

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How does one shame the shameless????

What a shame that my first column for 2013 has to be this grim....

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This appeared in The Sunday Times today...

This is not an empty rant against the ruling class. It is much more – it is an expression of utter and total condemnation. It is a notice. The entire country stood as one ( a rare enough occurrence) behind Nirbhaya who passed away in Singapore on the 29^thof  December.  Her tragic death generated deep anguish, yes. But there was also deep disgust. Citizens raised their voices across platforms and demanded that this day be permanently marked as the Day of Shame. Will that happen? More importantly, will that help? How does one shame the shameless in any case?  Behind all the emotional outbursts, one thing was constant – the  vociferous demand for justice.The demand for change.Not years from now. But immediately. Perhaps, this is precisely the tipping point India has been waiting for. Here was one case which touched countless hearts and pushed an important concern to centre stage in a way no other case or movement has in recent memory. It  took a horrific rape to expose our politicians. Suddenly the netas of Delhi were stripped naked. And there was no place to hide. Years of strutting around pompously and grand standing during one crisis after another, provided zero protection to these people as enraged citizenry took to the streets crying out for  better governance, sickened by the apathy and abuse of power . The moment of truth was finally here. And the reins got seamlessly transferred into the hands of the people of India.

Announcing a commission to examine what went so horribly wrong in the 23-year-old girl’s case, is a ruse that will no longer work. Those days of buying time and fobbing off angry citizens with empty assurances of  ‘looking into the matter’ are over. This was the old way of doing things. Young India is not ready to play ball with such deception. As was amply demonstrated at India Gate ( yes, by those very dented and painted people). The arrogance that came through from those who ought to have known better ( from Sheila Dixit to P.Chidambaram), eventually backfired on them. And this is going to be the fate of any politician resorting to lofty rhetoric instead of addressing a problem head on. Had even one of these leaders bothered to meet protestors during those early days when storm clouds were rapidly gathering over the Capital, perhaps this clumsy, even callous debacle could have been better managed. The young girl would have died regardless. That was a given from the word go. But we would have been spared the farce of watching the meaningless airlift to Singapore. That was the final straw. It was the wrong decision taken for the wrong reasons, by the wrong people. It fooled nobody. If anything, it further fanned the flames of collective anger. Citizens instinctively saw through the political game that was being played out in such a brazen manner. That high minded gesture was not about saving a critically injured girl. It was about saving their own face. And faking concern. It was already too late. The time for such hypocrisy and sham is unequivocally over.

If those in positions of power refuse to recognize what this crisis is all about, it will be their tragedy. While a disenfranchised woman’s heart rending plea (“Mummy, I want to live!”) fell on deaf ears and was dismissed by deadened souls, it was left to the people of  India to continue the struggle, while our leaders  resolutely and foolishly refused to meet protestors.  Such aloofness! Such cowardice! It is going to cost! And cost big time.

Leadership is about engagement. Real leaders do not run away from crises. But ours have specialized in burying their heads during any emergency hoping it will resolve itself and disappear on its own. This was one time they miscalculated – and how! The courageous young girl is dead. But there is an elephant in the room. An elephant that refuses to turn tail and leave. Ignoring the animal is not an option. But which of our mighty leaders is ready to take on the challenge and deal with not just the elephant, but the hungry beast that is on the prowl. It is a beast without a name. It is ferocious and cannot be tamed.The power of this beast is bigger than the State. This insatiable creature is about to gobble up Delhi. Water cannons, lathi charges… even bullets, will not stop its march.

2013 belongs to the Citizen of India. Happy New Year, readers!

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