Mother's Day ....

The celebrations are still on as I key this in! They started last evening with Anandita giving me my all time favourite flowers - Tiger Lilies. And this beautiful mug which states "' You are the crowning glory of our family."" Now.... I have to live up to that, or else. Little Anansuya Devi was hard at work creating hand crafting gifts for her mother and naani (me!). In an hour from now, we'll be popping champagne and then heading out for an orgy of dim sums at Hakkasan's. So much for bachcha log ka pampering. I am seriously wondering whether I deserve it!
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This appeared in Sunday Times today...

Attn: Neelam, Saira                         Politically Incorrect         10^th May 2013

                                            How much thicker can our skin get….?

 Two rhinos down! More to go! Forget the Bengal tiger,the great Indian Rhino ( rhinoceros unicornis) ought to be declared our national animal. And we needn’t go into the swampy basin of the Brahmaputra to look for these lumbering, ungainly creatures. We have the world’s most impressive collection of human rhinos in Delhi. Most of  them make their clumsy way through the corridors of power pretty effortlessly. And both houses of parliament are overflowing with their kind. It’s come to a point when from being declared an endangered species, ruthlessly hunted for the phallic horn, the asli rhino is now much in demand for its thick skin. The rhino hide has gained in value during the past few years.The slimiest muck slides off  without leaving a trace.We have so many of them… bureaucrats, cops,clerks, fixers, wheelers and dealers, middlemen - we are in the fortunate position to offer our hardy, tough , sasta and tikao  political rhinos for export to the rest of the world.India breeds human rhinos faster than any other country. And with each new generation, the hide gets thicker. Nothing penetrates that tagda layer. Nothing sticks. Everything bounces off. Our rhinos are unique and priceless.

Last week’s  Railgate / Coalgate developments threw up some more members of this extraordinary species. This was an interesting development as some of these bulky creatures had effectively disguised themselves as lions and other noble animals in the past. Union Law Minister Ashwani Kumar emerged as the most impressive rhino. Along with the Railways Minister Pawan Kumar Bansal ( so what if both were compelled to resign – rhinos they remain). Ranjit Sinha, CBI Director is another jabardast rhino. The slightly dodgier rhino in this mess is the Indian government’s top law officer, Attorney General G.E. Vahanvaty, who emphatically distanced himself from everything by cleverly stating, “People have lost sight of the fact that I am not a political executive.”  (In that case, Sir, kindly refrain from conducting yourself as one.) But the rhino of rhinos is undoubtedly our Prime Minister, Dr. Manmohan Singh, who left it to poor Renuka Choudhary to field questions about the imminent sacking of Ashwani Kumar ( “… you have to wait before you jump the gun.”) and to provide a weak alibis for her leader (“ The P.M. has said he is aware of full facts of the case and that he will find a solution.”).Like he has to a myriad other blights plaguing the country, Ms. Choudhary?

There must be several shadowy  human rhino spirits  in heaven looking out for the Congress party, or else it would have been khel khatam after what the learned bench of the Supreme Court had to say to the CBI  in the Coalgate case ( “ You should make yourself solid as the rock, but you are like the sand…”). Unfortunately, this pointed indictment got diluted before the message could sink in. The Congress win in Karnataka  temporarily took care of the heat generated by the burning coals in the country’s furnace.  Many fortuitous factors kicked in all at once… and those hides got thicker. This suited all the rhinos just fine. While the Indian people were fed parables and fables involving goats and parrots. Even after the two high profile resignations, the big question remains unanswered : Where is the looted money? Who is going to get it back?

Our  Delhi rhinos need not worry.  They are a protected species. Nothing and no one can touch them. Their population is growing steadily and rather than being considered an endangered lot, their burgeoning numbers are actually posing a danger to other animals and life forms. Survival of the fittest being the rule of the jungle, chances are these formidable beasts will continue to roam unhindered throughout India, secure in the knowledge there is zero challenge or adversary in sight. This is what happens when there is no Lion King in a jungle. Hyenas, jackals, even vultures and similar scavengers assume control. Anarchy  prevails. Unprovoked attacks occur. Bloodshed takes place. Smaller critters scamper for cover.The abject helplessness of the weak is taken advantage of  by stronger animals, who think nothing of trampling over those who stand in their path. For now, the rhino is calling the shots in India. The worm has still to turn. But watch out when it does. Rhinos are gigantic… but slow.Their size is both an advantage and a liability.Where and how can a humungous rhino hide? When the time comes to run, rhinos falter. And they fall.

 The CBI will do well to pay attention to Justice R.M. Lodha. The Bench has asked a pertinent question : “Is the job of the CBI to interact or interrogate? Is this a collaborative action going on?”

The Chief Rhino must answer. Or go.

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Daddy Cool....

More Alibag pics. I love the one of Aditya and Anandita in front of a mithai shop. The other two are an extension of my new love affair with shooting into the light...
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This appeared in Mumbai Mirror.... on the eve of Mother's Day, it's time to give Fathers a break... what say??

                             Daddy Cool….

It needed a seriously gutsy guy to break this particular bhanda. And has he broken it! Journalist Toby Young has triggered off a world- wide debate on men and babies, with his brutally honest views on parenting and the entire work-life balance jhanjat that plagues career people these days.Young has four kids under the age of ten. His wife expects him to switch gears at 6 p.m every evening and take over baby duties from her. These duties involve bathing the kids and getting them ready for bed. Young admits candidly he hates doing this! It’s tedious and boring, besides, he’d rather spend the same time working late at the office or hanging out with friends. He says it’s the same for women (his wife is a full time home maker) and most mums find childcare equally tiresome and difficult. But can never admit it. Which is why he goes along with his wife’s wishes even though he finds the whole thing ‘horrendous’! In addition to these delightfully blunt opinions he also points out that most men would rather spend  time pushing personal career goals than changing nappies. What’s more, they really wouldn’t suffer from the slightest guilt! In his book, men really don’t worry about not getting enough time with their kids. On the contrary, they resent not having enough time for their careers. “ I don’t think it’s just me,” he states flatly, adding most men he knows don’t enjoy hanging with children. Young adds, “Call me a bad father…” Ummmm. Okay. You’re a bad father,Young!

I am sure countless Daddy Cools reading Young’s piece will agree with him and roar ‘Rah! Rah!’ I frequently observe young dads playing caring-sharing New Age fathers in parks and around swimming pools. They dress for the part, act the part, but their pained expressions give the game away. They really and truly look abysmally bored, as they try and soothe/amuse a bawling brat , or feed an obstinate toddler who spits out every mouthful. Yet, the pressure on this hip, studiedly trendy young dad is such that he dares not step back from daddy duties, even when all he probably want to do is bond with guy friends and swig chilled beer. Give these oppressed chaps a break, girls! See how sheepish they look with infants strapped across their manly chests ( only Hritik Roshan can carry off this look) . Agreed hunks with chunks ( babies) look pretty hot. And kiddos often make great arm candy/ fashion accessories ( better  by far than the mini iPad). Even so, I notice there is a great deal of pressure on aak kal ke daddies to attend kiddie parties, organize play dates, get involved with pre-school activities, supervise homework, play football in the  building garden, befriend parents of other brats, work on the kid’s extra-curricular interests, doodle, play games on the ubiquitous  iPad , watch annoying cartoons with the kid for the umpteenth time, keep an eye on the fancy stroller, manage the myriad moods of temperamental toddlers and fussy nannies on holidays…. Oh God, a thousand other equally irritating responsibilities that didn’t exist a decade ago.

An older generation of dads had it much easier. They produced  kids. And forgot all about them till the sons/daughters were adults. It was the mother’s sole responsibility to raise children. And uss zamaney ke moms didn’t have the guts to demand more participation from their husbands. Not even when kids were sick! I have heard fathers exclaim, “  God knows when these children grew up!” Today’s scene is straight out of a Woody Allen film. Not only are young dads expected to share bachcha responsibilities 50-50, the poor fellows also have to fake loving it. Wives insist on hubbies waking up for night feeds or jumping out of bed when the baby cries , quite forgetting the established fact that most men are stone deaf when it comes to hearing an infant’s ear shattering screams at 3 a.m. They aren’t pretending to be deaf, dear mums – there is a genuine medical problem! Accept it.

Mommies, let’s give Daddies a break. At least during the long hot summer. Let’s offer them a chhuti from bachcha  duty. Instead, make them work hard in other areas which need their expertise  much more. Like shifting heavy furniture around… going off to Lohar Chawl to look for electrical fixtures and bathroom fittings. Leave babies to  experts – bais, ammis, daadis, aunties, naanis, nannies, nurses . Relax.It’s official now – hubbies and babies don’t make the best combo. Unless , of course, yours is the exception. Yawwwwn!   

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Pretty, pretty Alibag....

Was delighted to find Alibag still lush green and bursting with summer blooms. Mr. Goswami had thoughtfully filled all the urlis with flowers.... which was so kind of him, considering we weren't sure we'd find the time to stop off at home for a hurried lunch. But we did! And was it well worth the effort!

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Mudh Mudh Ke Na Dekh,Mudh Mudh Ke!!

Gong Li giving me one of those looks, outdoes  the sultry Nadira with her long cigarette holder, swaying and singing 'Mudh Mudh Ke Na Dekh'' This is come hither at its best. Sometimes, I park Gong Li on the dining table while I work / slave away. This evening I had an interesting visitor from Vienna - Dr.Edit Schlaffer, Executive Director of Women Without Borders. She is a determined lady on a special mission. Edit has started SAVE  ( Sisters Against Violent Extremism), because she firmly believes the only way to tackle terrorism is by working with mothers and sisters of troubled young people. Youngsters who could be inducted into terrorist organisations ( like in the case of the Boston Marathon Bombers) by agents looking for vulnerable recruits. She believes it is through sensitising mothers  of youth in troubled areas, that  a change of heart will take place. She exhorts mothers to watch out for certain signs ( brooding, alienation, suspicious activities) and then act on them ( talking more to their children, drawing them out, getting them to reveal their inclinations, persuading them to turn their backs on violence)  that transformation will eventually come about. Her husband is a psycho analyst. And they have two wonderful children. Edit is constantly on the move around the world, taking her message to places as far flung as Palestine and Pakistan. She has just returned from a trip to Kashmir, where she spoke to several mothers who have lost their husbands and sons to Jihadis. She's in Mumbai to plan a series of workshops and meetings around the 5th anniversary of the 26/11 attacks. Our brain-storming session went very well indeed. When Edit left, I wondered what has made this affluent, successful, happy Austrian lady invest so much time, effort and money on such a difficult but worthwhile mission. I have supported Women Without Borders for a while now. And happy to do so in future. If you'd like to know more about this initiative, log on to www.women-without-borders.org.

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Hips don't lie.....!

Summer is definitely here! And I am not going by the crazy mercury levels! Just look at these magnificent Brazilian Copper Pods in full and glorious bloom right outside my window! The streets are strewn with flowers.... who notices the dirt beneath that carpet of gold?? That's my attitude to life as well - focus on the fragrance... the delicate beauty of seasonal flowers.... ignore the kachra. You'll be a lighter, happier person. Promise!
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This appeared in Mumbai Mirror....

                             Why jeans matter more than genes to women…

Let’s face it… most Indian women ( I instantly include myself) are hip heavy. We  prefer to call our body type by slightly more flattering names, insisting we are blessed with ‘child bearing’ pelvic girdles. This is utter rubbish, of course. I mean just look at Victoria Beckham’s unreal proportions (damn her genes and jeans). Here’s a woman who has produced four gorgeous babies phataphat.And is a size minus zero. Closer to home, there’s our very own desi Posh, the luscious, lissome Shilpa Shetty  ( for proof, check her out on the cover of the latest Hello! with toddler Viaan on her hip). Look at those dangerous curves. So… out  goes that silly child bearing hips theory. Popping out multiple babies is not connected to the dimensions of  ones girth, especially that annoying ‘hippy’ statistic. And since we are at that time of the year ( summer vacations), when women across the world want their bods to be bikini-perfect, let’s not get too ambitious for now and just stick to the jeans crisis. Bikinis can wait. Last year’s favourite denims no longer fit, right? But they are still there in your closet, teasing and taunting you to try them on. You don’t dare, because you know the awful truth. Deep within your heart, you have accepted defeat. But you refuse to admit it.Finally,you resign yourself to what the mirror is shouting out at you, and shame- facedly settle for track pants ( how I hate them!), telling yourself, it’s fine to travel in tracks….if  Katrina Kaif can, you can. Idiotic reasoning. I mean… have you seen Katrina’s toned butt? It gets worse. You start digging for still older pairs that are hidden inside the deep recesses of your closet.Surely, you’ll find something that fits? No?? Then why are all those discarded  jeans still there? Aha… ha ha ha … because you live in hope! You are convinced ‘one day’ you will be back in shape and able to squeeze into them! Those perfect denims are a symbol of  desperation and aspiration. You hang on to them. You cling! Because you are a true believer in your own will power. Besides, you hate throwing away a “perfectly good pair of hardly worn jeans!” Obviously, you have never paid close attention to Shakira’s mega hit ‘Hips don’t lie.”  Please…. take a good look at her booty…. and go die! Huge, yes. But worth a million bucks – literally!

Giving up on your hips is the worst thing a woman can do. Give up on other body parts if you must, but not those hips. Remember, not even the best constructed gown or clingy saree can effectively camouflage love handles. If you have them, you have them. That’s the time to blame it all on genes. Stare at old, faded photographs, fondly remember your granny (‘naani ki yaad’ gets a new spin), reconstruct the family tree … and console yourself. What can you do if you are unlucky enough to be born into a family of women with generous hips? I made my uneasy peace with this particular problem a long time ago. Someone smart advised, “Sit on your base and look after your face.’’ I was forty at the time. Sensible advice, I like to think. There are some unflattering home truths that need to be accepted with grace. What’s the big deal? Yes, you should continue with your daily work out, eat sensibly, drink lots of water, sleep well…. blah ,blah,blah. But should a couple of inches ( okay… more than a couple) ruin a much needed summer break? Never! Should you chuck those old jeans? Never! They are motivational and needed. They tell you what even best friends don’t. You hate them for it. Fine. But it’s key to pay attention. And lose weight. Oh… not rightaway! After the vacations will do. And while you are out there, shopping cheek-by-jowl with ladies who could be Posh… or Shilpa, don’t despair . Move as far away from them as possible and search for jeans that really, really s-t-r-e-t-c-h from Milan to Mumbai. Or stick to caftans. About those bitchy beach babes staring pointedly at your derriere…. Honey, hasn’t anybody told you about the ultimate izzat savers also known as sarongs??? 

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Oooof! Kitni saari outrage, yaar!

Rishikesh memories.... because it is Radhika's birthday today. And I wish she was here. Though I know she is where her spiritual self has taken her - to Arunachala.
But she also loves delicate tea served in beautiful cups... like this one.
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This appeared in Sunday Times....

                             Yet another  ( C )Hit-and-Run case….

India is suffering from a serious case of Outrage Overdose.There is just so much  outrage floating around,  we don’t know where to take it, nor what to do with it. Night after night we strain our vocal chords and express anger/anguish/sorrow/contempt/disillusionment/revulsion/horror/desperation/impatience/cynicism…. Oh, a whole bunch of emotions, as if on cue. We switch on an invisible internal button… and go for it! Mercifully,the cast of characters and racy script have been changing at an alarming speed, but essentially, we now have a nightly, high adrenalin show featuring  an official list of Seriously Outraged People. Sometimes, I join this gang myself. I guess letting it all hang out occasionally is therapeutic, even cathartic. Whether or not it is useful … does it matter? Last week was an outstanding one for mass outrage.So much awful stuff happened, it was almost impossible not to go totally ballistic.That’s the problem. It’s now reached a stage where one wonders how outrage on such a mega scale can possibly be topped? What would it take to really, really shock us? A nuclear war?Till then,what we can comfortably take in our stride has been established clearly. Let’s see… we can aaram se handle an eyeball-to-eyeball confrontation with China, our  beloved neighbours , in Ladakh. We can look them in the eye and say ‘Boo’! Niccee! Never mind that they refuse to budge.We can say ‘Boo!’ till the cows come home and they’ll still be there. And Salman Khurshid will still be there, too. Perhaps he can’t resist a trip to China because he loves Peking Duck.

Topping the latest outrage charts was the Chor Bizarre episode involving crores and crores of  ‘poor people’s money’, even as Mamata Bannerjee ‘made red,red eyes’ and ticked off  those who dared to criticize her.For our part,we dutifully expressed outrage. On her part, Mamatadi sensibly ignored it. And it was business as usual in West Bengal (which is really a joke, since no legit business seems to be happening in that state). The Commies went ballistic over ‘poor people’s money’ (is it different from rich people’s money?) getting looted. And we stepped up our outrage to the next level.Nothing happened. Nothing is likely to. The poor will continue to be looted and get poorer, not just in West Bengal, but across this great and good land of ours. And high profile lawyers like Nalini Chidambaram won’t blink before charging a one crore legal fee in the same ‘poor people’s money’ context. In this particular case, our outrage was naturally more subdued.

 Saradha Reality Ltd . has shut shop. And the smart folks at SEBI have woken up. India now knows that there are more than half a dozen Cheat Funds juggling more than 7,000 crores of  ‘poor people’s money’ (awwww! Bad boys).Of course the country remains seriously outraged. Sudito Sen, the naughty man who masterminded the Ponzi (we love the sound of that word!) scheme before squealing on co-conspirators, is currently cooling his heels in the clink. In the recent past,Sen, a true patron of the arts, had spent millions on acquiring masterpieces painted by his Chief Minister, the multi talented Mamata Banerjee. Several gifts were also generously given to the lady’s party, and the level-headed Didi  refused to look this particular gift horse in the mouth. If only that Sen guy had not decided to go public with all those revelations, we could have conserved our rapidly depleting reserves of outrage.

  After all, there is a limit to how much outrage can be expressed by an exhausted nation. Just a few days ago, we were in outrage overdrive because of a 5- year-old girl called Gudiya and the unspeakable sexual assaults on her tiny being. There were just too many uncomfortable truths to deal with in a compacted period of time. The ugliest four letter word ever (R-A-P-E) refused to go away, even as those brave and dashing Delhi cops decided to express their own outrage by slapping a female protestor or two. Naturally their hugely popular and greatly admired boss, Neeraj Kumar, hung around stubbornly, while we did what we do best – you’ve guessed it – demanded his head and expressed outrage. Now that we are over our eyeballs in outrage, we are a little stumped what to do the next time something terrible happens. It’s getting a little boring, not to say tiresome, to keep cranking the levers of  that ghasa peeta outrage machine. The nation wants to know which emotional button one should press next. India wants an answer – should moral outrage be replaced? If so, what should replace it? How about… err… sincerity? The time to take a position on this burning issue is NOW!

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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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