What do we do with our neighbours and netas...?

This appears in the latest issue.... let's hear it from Blogdosts.... thumbs up???

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This appeared in Asian Age today...

                                  What do we do with our neighbours and netas???

Now that the Punjab Government has declared Sarabjit Singh a martyr and given him a state funeral, tension levels on both sides of the border are bound to escalate, till one or the other blinks. India has been blinking a lot of late. The official Pakistani version is that Sarabjit Singh, who was brutally attacked by co-prisoners inside the Jinnah jail in Lahore , died during a ‘scuffle’. He was referred to as a ‘terrorist’ on several panel discussions and we were casually told that such things ‘happen’. This, at a time when he was in a coma with no hope of recovery ( murderous head injuries had made sure of that). Despite this blatant display of  inhumanity , Pakistani spokespersons tried to make light of the matter . Fact remains Sarabjit was killed in cold blood . Pakistani authorities compounded the tragedy by failing to extend plain decency to Sarabjit’s mother, wife and young daughters, when they went across the border to plead with them  to  allow a seriously injured man to return to his own country, his own people. Today,while we are aghast at the heartlessness of it all,  are we,on our part ready to ask ourselves a few tough questions? Could Sarabjit Singh’s life have been saved had our government handled the case better? The answer is obvious: as usual we screwed up on every level and on all fronts.Yes, we should have stepped in much earlier. Yes, we should have taken more interest in the case, especially after Azmal Kasab and Afzal Guru were hanged. Yes, we could have saved him. But we were indifferent and did nothing. In a way, the Indian Government is also responsible for Sarabjit Singh’s murder.  Sarabjit Singh was killed twice over – by Pakistan and India.

While we are dealing with details of this tragedy, another one has been playing out simultaneously on the streets of  Delhi.The brazen and shocking acquittal of Sajjan Kumar ( accused of having been one of the key perpetrators of violence during the 1984 riots that killed over 3000 Sikhs) rocked the Capital the day the judgment was announced.  Considering this acquittal came at the end of 29 long years  of  bungling, lies and waffling, there was not just outrage and anger displayed by Sikh protestors, but something deeper and graver. If we choose to keep our blinkers on and exonerate this bekaar sarkar, then we are inviting trouble. Big trouble.  Today, we are soft peddling an aggressive Chinese intrusion into Indian territory in Ladakh. We are ignoring the seething rage expressed by a deeply distressed and disillusioned Sikh community which can lead to further alienation in Punjab . Add to that the growing problem of  illegal Bangladeshi immigrants, simmering resentment in Sri Lanka ( will the prickly Tamil issue ever be solved?), and we have an India that is effectively gheraoed on all sides by  neighbours who loathe us and distrust our every move. This is an awful situation to be in. And to think we have brought it upon ourselves.

The thing is, even if Manmohan ( Fevicol) Singh finally listens to the raucous chorus of critics who want him to resign forthwith, and quits, will that solve a thing? Day after day, we demand resignations from our leaders. By doing that, we are in fact, letting them off the hook a bit too easily. There is nothing heroic about resigning. If anything, it’s a cop out. A resignation that culminates in a fair trial  has some matlab. But just a token throwing in of papers is meaningless. When leaders are accused of misdemeanours and crimes, they are obliged to explain. Same as everyone else. The problem in India is nobody dares to nail netas . Who has the guts to nab even one of the Big Boys?  An Arvind Kejriwal can name names and get members of his team to bring up issues and personalities on television. But Arvind has zero clout. And no resources to fight the powerful. He may have public support. But that’s never enough. Going after even a chhota mota player, forget the prime minister , requires enormous will and more importantly, pots of serious money. Today, there is really no difference between our various political parties or leaders. They are all terrible.There is no ideology. No commitment. No vision. And worst of all, there is no ‘sharam’. When levels of shamelessness are this high, every crook and scoundrel in and out of government is protected. That being a given, nobody is scared. The culprits  know that after a few weeks of protests and demands for resignations, it will be back to dirty business as usual. Every neta has dope on every other neta. They also have dope on journalists and media owners. Whether it is the self righteous BJP persons or the complacent Congresswallas, both operate on the same principle – you open your mouth and I’ll open mine. The interests of the country be damned.

But despite widespread cynicism, mercifully there are still a few untainted, independent voices left in the country. Occasionally, one gets lucky and hears them. Those voices are pretty confident there will be a genuine and major parivartan (not the Mamata variety!) soon. The abominable and high handed handling of  both the Sajjan Kumar and Sarabjit Singh cases may prove to be the tipping point. With the Sikhs on the boil and Punjab once again on the brink of  revolt, some instant and convincing damage control is desperately needed. If that requires Manmohan Singh to show the way and step down with what’s left of his tattered dignity , it would be worth doing. Before it’s too late for him. And too late for India.

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Bayelsa Books and Craft Fair...

Yes, it got off to a good start.... and the timing was appropriate, as rich tributes were paid to one of the greatest writers of our time ...'' Remembering Achebe'' attracted several admirers, and even though there were a few glitches, the Fair was declared a hit by writers and artists. Next year promises to be bigger and better. Way to go, Onyeka and Peace..
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This appeared in The Week....

                                           Life begins at 8o…!

“I want to live my life in a fully ‘bindaas’ way …” This is not a statement made by a sexy Bollywood starlet, but by a lady who is well into her eighties. She lives in the locality and we share a masseuse.  The big difference being that the common maalishwalla is booked by me just once a week for a Sunday massage. It is the one weekly indulgence I greatly look forward to.  But the octogenarian widow is so hooked on the masseuse’s magic fingers, she uses her expert services for two leisurely hours, 365 days of the year, starting as early as 5.30 a.m. And mind you, this is not a therapeutic massage intended to provide relief to arthritic joins. It is  more a relaxing pummeling of tired muscles, designed to take care of urban stress . But for the merry widow, it is what kick starts her busy day. Once she is done with the pampering in a special Spa-style room in her luxury apartment (complete with aroma candles and lounge music), the lady hits her home gym, works out with a personal trainer, and plans lunch at her favourite restaurant or club. Her wardrobe is contemporary and expensive. She has several fashion designers at her beck and call, and prefers her outfits customized. Her salon treatments ( hair, facials, nails) take up the rest of the afternoon… and then it’s time for an evening aperitif and dinner. You may be wondering where the family fits in? Aha! It doesn’t! This is the interesting part.

Soon after her businessman husband died, leaving a substantial portion of his wealth to his widow, their three sons decided to claim what they believed was rightfully their share (over and above what the Will stated). From this point on, the story follows a predictable track – haughty daughters-in-law demanding more and more and more, with the bullying sons exerting enormous pressure on the old girl to sell the spacious flat and move into a small apartment. To her credit, she flatly refused to buckle, arguing it was her late husband’s wish to see her live well and enjoy his money till the very end. And that was that! The miffed sons promptly broke off further contact with their old mother once they discovered she wouldn’t play ball and pay up.On her part, she decided to reorganize her schedule, rejig her priorities and enjoy her life to the hilt on her own. Today, she has a support system of close friends, a couple of neighbours who look out for her, and of course, family retainers to take care of creature comforts. She is cheerful and full of enthusiasm as she plans short travels to hill stations and pilgrimage destinations across India. She looks no more than 65, with  good skin, her own teeth and long hair. She knows her sons are waiting for her to die before they swoop down and grab everything in sight. Perhaps, what they haven’t factored in so far, is their mother’s will power. She has seen through their selfishness and avarice. Here’s a lady who also makes time to educate girls from under privileged backgrounds. She may also have ear marked money for various  other charities she supports. Since she relies on the kindness of strangers, who knows, some fortunate ‘ajnabi’ may be at the receiving end of her generosity. But till the time for her to say ‘adieu’ to the world comes, she is making the most of her privileges. Like several widows I know in the city, she has come into her own after her husband’s death.  She also has the wisdom to recognize the futility of keeping up appearances. If her sons have abandoned her, so be it. She will not resort to martyrdom or victimhood in order to conform to society’s fake expectations. Boldly and bravely, she is going it alone. In an environment that is increasingly materialistic and openly hostile to senior citizens (“Why do these oldies have to live forever….?”), here is a gutsy woman who refuses to slip away quietly or surrender her rights. I love her for loving life! For not giving up on herself. For deciding to live on her own terms. There is no time to brood or dwell on depressing family truths. She has sensibly eliminated such toxins from her life. It’s a pity these ‘toxins’ happen to be her flesh and blood. I thought of   her before falling asleep last night. My dreams were indeed pleasant. And I woke up with a smile! May she rock on!

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Chuddie-Buddies...

Last year my daughters and I were right here in glorious Corfu. This summer is looking a little bleak. No specific plans so far. Just vague mutterings of , " we must do something...." I am a planner. Not an obsessive one, mind you. But I feel good with a ticket in my hand. So far, no ticket. One daughter may be starting a brand new job and as she puts it, " It won't look nice to ask for leave two months after starting." No, darling. Definitely 'not nice'. I shall mope and wilt and dream of cooler climes.
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I watched Bombay Talkies at Lightbox, which I am told is THE preview theatre of choice for Bollywood. The place was crammed.... not a seat to spare. Apart from Zoya Akhtar, the other three directors were present and seemed a little nervous! This was great, given their standing as film makers of repute. All four movies are superbly conceived and expertly directed.They are also twisted and somewhat sad. All four deal with identity and loss. Let me just say that Rani Mukherjee was luscious, ripe and ravishing. Her performance was intelligently nuanced and she stole the show from some of the other big ticket names in this unusual four-in-one movie that is off to Cannes next month.
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This appeared in Mumbai Mirror...

                                         BFFs and Chuddi-Buddies for life…

Go ahead. Call me Granny De. It’s official.Plus, I enjoy playing granny. Particularly with ajnabi bachchalog.Lots of really young people are asking me tricky questions. And like my friend Arnab would thunder, “The nation wants to know.” And India is a young nation.So, like him, I am taking a position on this vexing issue : Can a boy and girl be ‘buddies’? The jury may be out on this one. But I am not. The answer is a flat ‘No’! So, when young people (YP henceforth) wonder whether it was significantly different ‘in my time’ (pre-historic), I have to tell them the truth and nothing but – yes, it was! Being friends, just friends, with the opposite sex was never an option. Not even with ‘Bhaiyaa ke dost’  ( oh… come on… we know that story!).Today, there are so many bewildering layers and categories of  boy-girl friendships, even I am lost. Let’s see this from a girl’s point of view…there are boy- friends, guy friends,work friends, gym friends, club friends,ex-es,flat mates, chuddie-buddies, bff’s and others who are merely addressed as  ‘Bro’ or ‘Boss’ (no, Rahul Gandhi does not possess a patent on the word yet). These are all supposed to be gender neutral terms. But please note, they are in fact most gender specific. They are errr… unambiguously male! Fine. I really don’t see guys calling each other ‘Sister’ anytime soon.Nor does ‘Panties-Buddies’ work as a term of endearment. But here’s a warning, ladies: The minute you hear a guy you fancy address you as “Bro”, get the hint, read his lips and move on!Behind the ‘Bro’ talk, lies a subliminal message. Girls who want to hang with the guys and become one of them, will be treated likewise.If  you want to go bowling, watch cricket, smoke, drink, cuss and talk dirty, know that you are sending out ‘Bro’ signals. Levels of  physical intimacy are carefully calibrated by the YP as well. It doesn’t mean a thing to hug guy friends rather intimately during a night out and post those pictures on various sites.  Apparently, YPs know how this complex grading process works, same as how expert pearl merchants know how to grade their Basras and South Sea strands. If someone you are fond of  but not in love with, gets touchy-feely in public, it is okay, so long as you don’t kiss on the mouth. You can hold hands and cuddle openly, too. It just indicates closeness. It does not mean the couple is having sex. Being ‘in a relationship’ definitely means you are sleeping together. ‘Seeing each other’ is a little vague… it could mean you look but don’t touch… whatever. ‘Having a scene’ with someone, generally suggests that the  someone is in a serious relationship with someone else, and you are casually and shamelessly poaching. “Hitting on someone’ is self –explanatory. ‘Dating’ makes everything much more official. And I recently discovered ‘Hooked up’ has a new connotation that is specifically sexual, and does not involve an engagement ring!

Wow! Is this a maze or is this a maze! But nobody’s head reels. It is pretty clear to  theYP what all of this means. But to address the larger question of  Buddies Vs. Boyfriends, it is still as big a mess as it was back in those Paleolithic times (mine!). Kaafi confusion hai, boss! If you communicate with someone 24x7, does it add up to something or not? But if that person claims to have zero romantic interest in you and vice-versa…. sorry, someone in this set up is lying.Can the dynamics of the sterile relationship  change someday and turn romantic?It’s possible.But most times, after dozens of popcorn movie outings and Starbucks encounters, the rather sad truth has to be squarely faced when one of them chickens out and confesses all. The sham is suddenly over. Heartbreak follows. All that nonsense about being nothing more than chuddie-buddies is thrown out of the window.And life limps back to normal after much rona dhona and feelings of martyrdom.To all those out there who may be deluding themselves that such goody-goody relationships are possible forever and ever  – bhool jao yeh bakwas.Bewakoof mat bano. The laws of attraction will tell you Plato was a liar. There is no such thing as a purely Platonic relationship. I am sure even Plato didn’t have one. I mean… come on… think of all those steamy saunas and Toga parties!

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Women @ Work....

Still time! Go for it....it's a good initiative and worth supporting.
I am pretty excited about the WIFT (Women in Films and Television) project and awards. I'll be there to present an award, because I believe it is imperative to acknowledge the contribution of women in both these powerful platforms. Especially since we are celebrating 100 years of Cinema.

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Aarushi's Monster Parents...

The tulips were 'sent'' to me by our Blogdost Nitin Rai. He shot them close to his home in Oregan and promptly emailed the images in order to cheer me up! I received quite a few virtual bouquets. Thank you, all! I wasn't really depressed. Just sleep deprived1 So, after a short afternoon nap, I requested Anandita to click a more cheerful picture of me and Gong Li - surely Gong Li qualifies as the best stress buster of them all??

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 I wrote this on 4th January 2011.... at the time, there was much outrage at what I had suggested - that Aarushi's parents were the culprits. I received a lot of hate mail and a few nasty phone calls asking me to back off and zip up. 

Well, the startling revelations by the CBI officer today insist it was Ramesh Talwar who clubbed and killed both Aarushi and Hemraj, and then slit their throats. His wife helped him to dress up the scene of the gruesome crime. What sort of monsters are these parents?? And even after the cop's testimony, will these two be convicted and punished?

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                                      Who Killed Innocence….?

There is something exaggeratedly sinister about the brutal twin murders of an innocent 14- year- old girl, and the domestic who worked for the family ( nobody bothers about his death… are you surprised?). As things stand, the case has reached a bit of a dead end and there are any number of theories floating around. While it is true that the media has been conducting its own trial night after night and pretty much stating : the dad did it, the response of Aarushi’s parents has been puzzling and bizarre , to say the least.Grieving parents behave in a different manner. They are broken in spirit and rendered almost incoherent with grief at the loss of a loved one. An only child at that. Not these two, though. Sorry if this sounds like pop psychology gone wrong… but the conduct displayed by Mr. and Mrs. Talwar appears a bit too calculated, even cold blooded to viewers. It conveys just one thing : Catch us if you can. There is defiance and challenge built into every statement. ‘Where is the proof? What evidence do you have?”   Aarushi’s mother keeps demanding aggressively, as if to suggest, “We’ve taken care of every small detail… covered each track…so there!” For a mother of a dead girl to project such steely determination during what must have been the most harrowing time of her life, seems a bit unnatural. I have spent enough time consoling mothers who have lost their kids to say this is perhaps the first time I have observed a mom whose sole objective seems to be to put up a feisty defence for herself and her husband.Both the Talwars have a script that reads like a law manual. Their faces are stony, their eyes, strangely devoid of any emotion. When they mention Aarushi, they could as well be discussing their neighbour’s kid.

  Poor Aarushi.

God alone knows what prompted this ghastly murder. Did the young girl witness something she wasn’t meant to? Did she stumble across a dark and dirty family secret? Had she become an ‘inconvenience’ to her own parents? Who was she about to embarrass – herself or her parents? The crime has been committed by skilled, educated, clever people – that much is obvious. The devious master plan behind destroying key evidence and manipulating records can only be accomplished by people who are aware of police procedures and well up on forensic investigations. The early attempts to blame Hemraj, the slain domestic , therefore fall flat. Similarly, the subsequent efforts to implicate three other domestics remain equally unconvincing ( good thing those tortured and humiliated young men are seeking compensation) .Let’s leave the bumbling CBI blokes out of this space for now. The Aarushi murder goes beyond the killings of an only child and the man servant. It acts as a mirror to our urban lives .  Here are two busy professionals - parents who claim they slept through the murders that were taking place a few feet away from their own bedroom. They also slept through persistent phone calls the same night and didn’t know who sneaked into their home at that late hour  and cut the internet connection! More, they had no idea that someone had helped himself\herself to whiskey after the murder, and left the bottle on the table. Nor did they hear any strange activity on the terrace even though a body was being dragged there and a heavy, blood stained mattress was being flung out. No screams… no noises associated with struggle…. nothing disturbed these parents. The Talwars blissfully slept the sleep of the dead. Ironically, it was their daughter who had died!They heard nothing… knew nothing. But were up at 6 a.m. to throw down the house keys to the maid, call her up to Aarushi’s  room and  calmly show her their daughter’s neatly covered and cleaned up body! Unbelievable? Perhaps. But so smartly set up that the best sleuths in the land remain baffled… and clueless!

 As of now, it’s a case of the perfect murder! Not all the top brains in the country have succeeded in getting leads that nail the culprits. The Talwars can continue to sleep in peace. One thing they have proved is that their nerves are made of steel. Young Aarushi has taken many secrets to her grave. So has Hemraj, the man who was being blamed for Aarushi’s death. Even if the culprit is eventually found, and the Talwars get off the hook, the country will continue to be stupefied by their stellar performances on television night after night. No tears, no sorrow. Just  icy arguments proclaiming their own innocence. Aarushi must be weeping …

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Dekho Sessions at the Sea Lounge...

This was taken on Anandita's phone by her in house photographer Kanti, who is from Jharkhand.... our life would come to an absolute standstill without her!!!

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This appeared in Mumbai Mirror...

                         Dating games in the city…

Thirty odd years ago, nobody went on dates-dates. Sounds absurd ?But it’s true! Dates happened in Archie and Veronica comics. Dates were viewed as dodgy boy-girl outings invented by wicked Americans ,and specifically designed to corrupt the world. Well…. here comes the shocker. In most cities of 21^st century India ( including Mumbai, let me tell you),  dating remains a pretty shady, clandestine practice indulged in only by the very daring. Parents do not approve! Society does not endorse! Paradoxical… but there it is. Which is why students still lie when they join dubious ‘tuition classes’ or bunk lectures just to hang out with ardent partners . Poor kids. They really don’t have a choice! Their parents won’t ‘allow’ them to go out or bring a girlfriend / boyfriend home.  And even those progressive parents who sensibly refuse to play ostrich remain stubbornly unreceptive  when it comes to daughters. I have heard mothers of  hulking big fellows announce in crowded elevators, “ I don’t mind if  my son goes out at night… but, my daughter? No way! Who’ll marry her if she’s seen here and there, with this fellow and that fellow? We have to guard our daughter’s reputation…. or else, zero future!”

It was ditto-ditto when I was growing up. The only ‘dates’ that were deemed kosher were those set up by parents, that too, strictly after the official ‘dekho’ session . That is, after a potential alliance had been fixed and the girl was on the “ seen and approved”  list of candidates. Once there was a basic understanding in place between the two sets of  parents, the children were allowed to go on a weird , supervised ‘date’, generally to the Sea Lounge, and strictly during daylight hours. Girls were advised to wear sarees( no sleeveless cholis, please) and tie up long hair ( “only chudails have loose hair”).Strictly,afternoon tea . Never dinner. Sweet. As if one can’t do by day what one does when the lights are switched off. But such was the protocol. And that’s how it remains. ‘Sea Lounge’ is still the preferred (some say, lucky too!) venue, with the romantic window seats permanently booked. Over sev puri and cold coffee ( standardized ‘dekho’ menu), with a chaperone seated two tables away, a boy and girl are expected to make one of the most critical decisions of their lives, preferably in under one hour. Mind you, such decisions were (and are) indeed taken in good faith.  Countless marriages thus sealed over sev-puri, have survived , even thrived in this cruel city of ours.

The script has hardly changed. Each time I go to Sea Lounge, I look around and spot at least three ‘Dekho’ sessions in full flow. I talk to young friends of my daughters and they tell me they’re fine with it. “After all, our parents know us best.” And dating? Don’t these youngsters long to break a few rules, hang out with thoroughly inappropriate companions… and anger their folks? Disappointingly enough, not! Most families want to stick to the old rules. And horror of horrors, so do their children.Romantic dates? Runaway shaadis? No way. The guys wouldn’t know where to begin.And the girls are confused. They ask, “ But… what does one do on a proper date? How do I dress? Where do we go ?” These are genuine issues. Does a dosa-date qualify? Would a coffee at ‘Starbucks’ add up to a bonafide date? What about an Ayub’s roll after a multiplex movie? Or a post-dinner Sea Link drive followed by a gelato? Trekking over the weekend? Extreme sports? A cupcake date? Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf  moments?Ooof. There has to be a solution. I’d say, any outing that has a  romantic underpinning to it qualifies as a date. Couples hold hands on dates. Couples kiss. And that’s just for starters. Parents need to wake up and smell that latte. The more you intimidate and suppress your children, the worse the problem becomes. I have seen more engagements go kaput ( yes, even after all the screening and scrutiny by marriage brokers, well meaning aunts and other agents) where the parents have tried to ‘protect’ their children against the evils of dating .

It’s time to let go that harsh ‘lagaam’ of parental control. Especially with young girls of today. Trust your daughters a little more. Credit them with good sense. Let them make their own mistakes. Remember, even Archie and Veronica had a happy ending.

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A tale of two Gandhis...

 I have succumbed! Finally! And acquired a new phone (Samsung Galaxy S 111). It is much, MUCH smarter than I am. Which is a good thing. But It is so darn smart that I can't use it! Well.... here are a few family pics I shot as soon as I got it. I am very pleased with the results. About other apps.... do I really care?

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This appeared in Asian Age...

                             The real fight will be between the two Gandhi Babas

In what is being seen as a masterstroke by Narendra Modi, Varun Gandhi, the volatile and articulate son of Sanjay and Maneka Gandhi has been promoted to Class Monitor, after being treated as the Class Bully. There is good reason for this altered status. For one, Varun has done his share of standing on a bench in front of the Principal’s office. For another, he is a chip of the old block ( blocks, actually) and carries his Gandhi legacy with as much arrogance and chutzpah as his parents. Sanjay Gandhi’s style of functioning during the peak of his power, makes Narendra Modi look like a docile lamb reciting Baa Baa Black Sheep. Sanjay was far more in your face  -  an unapologetic tyrant with a weak voice and a loud manner. There was nothing ambiguous about his attitude. The man meant business. It was his way or the highway. You crossed his path at your own peril. His loyal coterie bowed and scraped in his presence in a manner so pathetic, it makes Mayawati’s fawning admirers look good. But that was Sanjay for you – Indira Gandhi’s adored son, who could do no wrong. His widow Maneka ( famously referred to as the kutta-billi mimister) has mellowed somewhat, but you don’t want to mess with this lady either. Varun is the product of fiery parents, who ( decades ago), had shrewdly capitalized on a turbulent environment to establish their own political credentials. Unfortunately for the little boy, his father Sanjay was killed in a chopper accident. His mother was thrown out of the marital home. And his reticent pilot-uncle, Rajiv Gandhi was compelled to fill the vacated position created by Sanjay’s death. India’s history got rewritten, as it were, virtually overnight – and a new monarch was born. A monarch who also had a young son to occupy his throne someday.

It is interesting that both Rahul and Varun are creatures crafted out of enormous personal tragedy. Rahul too lost his own father in equally tragic circumstances, leaving him to take care of a grieving widow ( Sonia), much like his cousin Varun before him. Rahul was fortunate enough to also have a loving sister to cushion the tragedy. Priyanka’s presence may have provided the much needed salve to both, Rahul and his mother. Varun had nothing and no one to fall back on. The few friends Maneka had when Sanjay was alive, soon drifted off to find new patrons. Varun was left to pursue his poetic passions and sent overseas for a formal if lonely education. That he was (and remains) the most political animal in the Gandhi family cannot be disputed. That his IQ is far higher than Rahul’s is known to all. That he is far more aggressive than his mild cousin, is pretty obvious. Now all that remains to be seen is which of the two Gandhi men will impress voters in 2014.

Rahul’s start to woo a picky electorate has been pretty dheela and shaky. Varun is clearly waiting for his big Debutant Ball. But his recent elevation within the party cadre has already sent out several signals. Rahul’s minders are gearing up for a major showdown as the election wars hot up. There are rumours of a Gandhi Vs.Gandhi maha yudh in the offing. Modi campwallas are betting on their  Saffron Gandhi taking the pants … err… pajamas, off the Congress Gandhi. Varun’s fire and brimstone speeches have got him into hot water earlier. Today, he presents a more sober side to the world ( perhaps marriage has mellowed the man?) and minds his language during public discourses. Rahul’s oratorical skills … well, let’s leave those for now, boss! He has much harder tasks ahead of him than to invest his energy trying to impress CII types with his schoolboyish vision for India. How this star rivalry between high profile cousins pans out in the coming months will be fascinating to monitor. One Gandhi is a mild mannered, dimpled darling, with a limited attention span and a self effacing manner that pleases but does not impress. Let’s describe Rahul as a cuddly cocker spaniel. The other Gandhi is hot headed, with a volcanic temper and unapologetically rabid views. Let’s say he most resembles a pit bull terrier. Both men will be used and exploited by the propaganda meisters of their respective parties. Maneka will be pitted against Sonia yet again, albeit in dramatically altered circumstances. This time it will be a lethal fight to the finish with the winner taking it all. In terms of charisma, both men are well-matched. Rahul has his fan following of fida female voters…thanks to his single status. Varun is admired by asli mards… and, of course, women who like their men married and macho.Rahul has a free run of the party. Varun still has to toe the Modi line. If Varun doesn’t allow his ego to get the better of him, he will willingly suck up to Modi and play second fiddle for now. Varun’s time will come later, much later. But Varun is smart enough to know all eyes will be on him as he takes on his cousin and aunt. But Rahul still has the trump card in his hand. It is Rahul who can say, “Mere paas maa hai…. aur behen bhi.” Priyanka Vadra will be the biggest game changer in 2014. But that master stroke is obviously being saved for the  dhoom dhadaka finale! Till then, let’s just enjoy the Gandhi Vs. Gandhi show at prime time.

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