Jiah Khan

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Monday, 14 January 2013

Posted on 10:51 by Unknown

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

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 21st 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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Saturday, 12 January 2013

Posted on 07:20 by Unknown
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

Posted on 00:54 by Unknown

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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Tuesday, 8 January 2013

India's Biggest Bores...

Posted on 01:02 by Unknown


 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. 
                                                             ***************

 I rashly wrote this year ender for Outlook.... a week later, I am still alive! Phew! Yenjoy!!!!
                                                        *******************
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 60th 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 16thbirthday 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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Sunday, 6 January 2013

How does one shame the shameless????

Posted on 00:04 by Unknown

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

                                                                                *****************
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 29thof  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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Friday, 28 December 2012

R.I.P Nirbhaya - Fearless daughter of India!

Posted on 23:54 by Unknown
No. We will not forget!
Shame!
What a tragic way to end 2012.
Au revoir, injustice!
 2013 will see a changed India.
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Blogdosts. It's time to say good bye to our shared space for now.
Till next year.... and new beginnings.

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Monday, 24 December 2012

Posted on 22:54 by Unknown

Just to take my mind away from the young woman hanging on to life  in Delhi, I am posting this image of Skittles - a proud and beautiful mother. Her littlest one, will be mine soon...I have named her Gong Li! Merry X'Mas.... stay positive. Believe in life...
                                                                     ***************
                                The rape of  Delhi…
I refuse to pack chilly powder in my hand bag each time I step out of the house. I will not advise my daughters to master martial arts or acquire cans of pepper spray - ‘just in case’. I will encourage them to wear what they want, when they want. And I certainly won’t be looking over my shoulder constantly when I leave home. This is no way to live. This is no way to deal with a crisis. We are making an even bigger mess of an already horrific reality by running scared. By hiding. By diving for cover. The streets, stations, subways, buses, autos, trains, over bridges, cabs belong to women as much as they do to men. We should reclaim what is rightfully ours, without being browbeaten into scampering away in fright. Why retreat at this stage? If anything, the moment to go ahead and change the rules of this dastardly game is now. If we weaken our resolve and move even an inch from the position taken, we’ll have surrendered a basic right. The right to freedom. The right to safety. Worst of all, we will be passing on a nasty message to our daughters and their daughters that all men are potential rapists – it’s only about opportunity.
It takes one incident to galvanise people. Nobody can predict which that incident could be. Why this particular rape? Newspapers carry worse reports involving equally brutal acts of violence against women on a daily basis. Often, there are as many as six blood curdling stories on the same day, each one as grisly as what happened to the brave 23- year- old  girl in Delhi earlier this week. Yet, it was this gruesome rape that   has outraged and shaken up India. One can only hope this case won’t become another played up tragedy that goes nowhere once something ‘more important’ hits the headlines. But what can be more important than the lives of our women? Or am I asking a stupid question? We know the answer. A female foetus is not safe even in a mother’s womb. And we are discussing the safety of women who are ‘allowed to live’.  But this is not the time to feel martyred. There is no room for self pity. This is the time to demand real change. And by that, I don’t mean the death penalty. Ironically, it is other hardened criminals locked up with the accused in Tihar jail, who have decided to teach the beasts a lesson that goes beyond beatings. Reports say, one of them was made to eat his own excreta. Humiliation can’t get any worse.
But that is not a ‘solution’. It is merely a reaction. The solution lies in our hands. And those hands need not reach for chilly powder. If we adopt defensive strategies to ‘protect’ ourselves, we are admitting weakness and anticipating defeat.How many women in scary circumstances will have the physical strength and the presence of mind to reach for those chilies ? The onus of staying safe was never on us. Let’s not foolishly take it on ourselves at this critical stage and let the real culprits off the hook. And those culprits aren’t  the rapists. Criminals take their cues from society at large. A society that condones and looks the other way when politicians rape, loot, kidnap and murder with impunity, is a society that is inviting trouble from the lumpen. Men like the Delhi rapists who must have believed they’d get away with the crime – just like all those netas whizzing around the Capital,followed by a convoy of security cars to ‘protect’ them. It is this blatant abuse of power that we need to put up a fight against. Until that changes, our women will remain soft targets.  Sheila Dixit, the Chief Minister of  Delhi has displayed very little real concern. The top cop has been shockingly blasé, resorting to platitudes and excuses to cover up his force’s lapses.Through all this, an extraordinarily courageous woman continues to fight for her life and let the world know she wants to live. It’s a poignant war cry from what could soon become her death bed. Yes. The situation is grim. And this is a national emergency which must be recognized as one. No woman in India should ever be told to arm herself with chilly powder. No woman should even feel the need to do so. This is what the fight is about. Get real, Sheila Dixit.Women must be able to take safety for granted. Just like men do.  For, when Delhi gets raped, India gets raped.
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