Valley of Wonders...Limone

This appeared in The Robb Report...

                              Honeymoon alert: Limone - Valley of Wonders

Not for nothing is this extraordinary destination in the heart of the Italian Alps known as The Valley of Wonders – they really never cease! The wonders! Today, this incredibly beautiful valley whose history goes back to Roman times, attracts skiing enthusiasts from across the world. With 80 kilometres of slopes and 15 ski lifts, Limone Piedmont is rapidly acquiring a reputation as the premier skiing mountain resort, with beautifully appointed chalets dotting the alpine scenery. What makes this area even more alluring is the ancient history behind the lush valley. The Romans created a trade route through the rugged range, making it possible to reach the slopes of Col di Tenda taking the Via Augustea. In the Middle Ages, it became a key stopover for caravans of traders from Savoy. From the end of the nineteenth century, Limone was recognised as an attractive tourist destination.Years later, with a convenient railway connection to the French Riviera, and the introduction of  Italy’s first ski lift here, Limone Piedmont took its place as a top ski resort that sees international celebs enjoying the perfect slopes.  In fact, so ideal are skiing conditions here that Limone was selected as the perfect venue in the Alpine region to host the Italian Championships. In 2006, Limone also hosted  a competition during the Turin Winter Olympics.

Nestling cosily in the heart of this picturesque region, is a very special chalet called ‘Wonderfall’, which boasts of seven luxury themed suites inspired by the unique design traditions of America’s Wild West ( think Montana, Wyoming….). And here’s where the connection to America kicks in… but ssssh! It’s one of the valley’s best kept secrets. Kate ,  part owner of  Wonderfall Chalet , is the cousin of Princess Grace of Monaco. Kate who is also blond, beautiful and elegant ( it runs in the family!), built Wonderfall Chalet twenty years ago when she fell in love with the area. Today, Kate and her partner Didier, divide their time between Wonderfall and ‘Stars and Bars’ their very popular restaurant near the Monaco harbor. But it is their brainchild, the stunning Four Seasons Wonderfall Chalet, which is their absolute pride and joy. And why not? The beautifully appointed Four Seasons Chalet is spread over 1400 sq meters, and is rented as a whole  unit. Given that skiing has become the new Polo for India’s young and adventurous, a resort like this one makes perfect if pricy sense! It is undoubtedly an inspired and inspiring honeymoon destination, but it also ideal for those in search of a perfect break during a hectic European jaunt. Now that sociable honeymooners often travel in packs and prefer to take their bff’s with them, what better than to book a sprawling chalet that offers just about everything  ( from a resident chef who customizes menus and offers superlative cuisine, to fabulously well appointed themed suites) to make it a memorable, heavy duty bonding holiday – even if skiing and adventure sports are not your main thing.

The best way to get to Wonderfall is by helicopter ( the chalet has its own helipad). Not only is this the most exhilarating 20 minute chopper ride (1500 euros for 5 passengers) you are ever likely to experience, but at 1300 metres above sea level,  and the 360 degree vistas that are nothing short of breath taking, trust me, it is worth the steep price. To your right you can enjoy the most spectacular views of the French Riviera, with the glittering Cote d’Azur  kissing the beaches, and just over the next snow clad peak lies Italy! Sandwiched in between these two contrasting visuals is the jewel like Principality of Monaco. A unique and fascinating combo which makes it possible to start your day lazing by the sun drenched pool in Monte Carlo, then jumping into a HeliAir chopper and heading for some energizing skiing down those amazing slopes with  20 feet of fresh, powdery snow, followed by going for an après-ski  drink around a roaring fire,  enjoying  canapés and an aperitif  while relaxing in the large family lounge at Wonderfall Chalet, and then heading back to the Casino in Monte Carlo to try your luck at the tables. Oh, not to forget a nightcap at the buzzed American Bar at Hotel de Paris next door. If you still have the energy for some more serious partying, there is Buddha Bar down the road, or the world famous  Jimmyz across the Opera House.  This is just for starters!

My own recommendation is to start with a weeks’s stay at Wonderfall Chalet. During summer, when the snows melt, the valley is transformed into a sylvan paradise, with a gurgling waterfall ( Cascate del Piz) that drops down right next to the chalet. There are forest trails to explore and horse riding with expert Alpine guides. Nature walks in and around the chalet attract die hard romantics, who spend hours wandering around the woods that circle Wonderfall Chalet. Since the chalet is less than a two hour drive away from Monte Carlo, it is easy to nip down for an evening on the town and get back for an after dinner cognac at the chalet, which, incidentally, boasts of an exceptional cellar and a well stocked humidor. The resident chef prepares menus of your choice and uses the freshest local produce. At lunch, I  sampled smoked wild boar stuffed with melting cheese , while others at the table heartily tucked into their sirloin steaks! The staff of eight at the chalet work seamlessly to make sure your stay is both enjoyable and comfortable . In case your party includes young children, activities like a kiddie party under Red Indian tepees, are organized for them. While adults can take Yoga lessons, enjoy Spa treatments, or just relax in the outdoor Jacuzzis and sauna near the private pond. Massages come at 70 euros. But Yoga and the Spa are included in the price. Aha – the price. It is indeed pretty hefty. Hold your breath – the rate per night for the chalet is a staggering 10,000 euros (25k for three nights).Benjamin Boutemmy, the ever smiling chalet manager, along with his team, ensure you are never bored! During the salubrious summer months, one can go rafting, cliff climbing and canoeing, apart from taking riding lessons at 30 euros per hour.

The best way to get the most out of the Alpine trip is to include a decadent weekend at the historic Hotel Hermitage in Monte Carlo, either before or after Limone. The Honeymoon Package at L’Hermitage is particularly charming, with lots of lyrical and romantic flourishes thrown in. None of this is modestly priced, of course. A junior suite with a jacuzzi on a terrace that overlooks the Port of Monaco, is the ideal way to break into the laidback Mediterranean lifestyle that defines Monaco. Not only can you enjoy great views of fantastic yachts of the staggeringly rich and the fabulously famous bobbing around in the harbour, but you can do so while sipping  Cristal Roederer champagne and nibbling Laduree macaroons while immersed in the outdoor Jacuzzi. The prices for this indulgence start at 1274 euros a night. Don’t gulp or blink! But think of the romantic potential it offers  love birds celebrating l’amour  in as magical a setting!  The Hermitage Hotel (280 rooms, 26  suites, 24 junior suites) offers free access to the swish Monte Carlo Beach Club and the Thermes Marins Spa (which boasts of the best health food menu ever at the  attached Hirondelle restaurant). Once you are done with lavish beauty treatments at the Salon Bleu, you can soak in the pleasures of a traditional hamam, before heading out for a one hour photo shoot with a professional photographer ( 360 euros for the session with the CD of images).To help you get into the mood for the lovey dovey pictures, buckets of  perfectly chilled bubbly are always on stand by! There’s no better way to feel like a celebrity couple! 

This is the life, honeymooners sigh, as they head to the Casino yet again , for a final fling at breaking the bank! And just in case you have forgotten to pack your tux or evening gown, worry not  –  the best couture houses are but a few paces away. And while you are in the mood to splurge, why not pop in to the Cartier boutique downstairs to take a look at their latest, limited edition ‘Crash’ watch? Unless, of course, neither time nor cash is of any consequence at this stage…in which case, surrender to excess at every level… after all, that’s what honeymoons and holidays are meant for.

Read More

A bend in the river....

This appeared in The Asian Age...

                                A bend in the river….

So now we have an infuriated Goddess as an alibi. That conveniently lets off all those scoundrels responsible for the deaths of so many pilgrims in Uttarakhand. Poor Goddess. Yes, she was displaced from her abode recently. Summarily removed from her temple and relocated to another higher level. Or so the gullible locals have been told. The real story is likely to be dramatically different. The Goddess was clearly in the way. It wasn’t her safety alone that was at stake, it was also the future of an ambitious, lucrative mega hydel power project. The ancient shrine of  Dhari Devi had to be uprooted to facilitate those plans. God knows what the pious pujari was told by lobbyists. But move her, he did. The exact date of that shifting remains hazy but in retrospect, those who took that decision must be nervous indeed. That’s India. We believe in stuff like this.Equally,when all else fails,we conveniently blame the Gods.  After all, the displeased Goddess cannot go to court , nor file an FIR, or even take the RTI route. She can merely sulk in silence and do her worst. We have seen the terrible consequences of that! Her wrath has devastated a tiny but  hugely strategic State ( China breathes down its neck), killed countless innocents, ravaged the region and destroyed virtually everything that lay in the path of those furious flood waters. With the rivers on a rampage, India once again bowed to the will of the Gods. That said, it is time to assess with ruthless honesty ( if we have the guts), what actually went so horribly wrong in Uttarakhand. Is it that tough?Let’s start with basic questions :  here ,we are talking about a historic pilgrimage centre that has existed for centuries. Millions of pilgrims have trekked up those treacherous paths over the years. The numbers have only grown. And yet, successive governments have done nothing to address the perils faced by believers? The inconvenience of the faithful who risk life and limb to make the hazardous journey year after year? And hello! Is the Indian Monsoon an unknown phenomenon?Do we not know the magnitude of the havoc those rains wreak across India season after season?  So why are we behaving like we were dealing with something entirely alien and unpredictable? Even in the past, those nasty landslides have claimed many lives ( who can forget dancer Protima Bedi’s tragic death while on a pilgrimage?). Despite all of this being a given, our response to the calamity has been abysmal, dismal and sickeningly callous. Thank God for our valiant men in uniform! One shudders to think what might have happened had we left it to our politicians to handle the crisis on their own.

Well… we do know what some of them did after disaster struck. Vijay Bahuguna,the Chief Minister of  Uttarakhand, reluctantly cut short his European junket and came back  to utter the usual platitudes. Allegedly, he was compelled to give up his Moulin Rouge moments when orders from Dilli sternly summoned him  -  report for duty, or else! Ditto for Birthday Baba Rahul Gandhi who was kicking up his heels in London, and enjoying the services of his favourite barber there. That’s when Mama Mia advised him to forget his quiff for a bit, and come right back ( maybe it was his barber’s day off for he took his time ). This was after Mama Mia’s aerial sortie and view from the clouds, as she surveyed the devastation from the plush aircraft, along with a stone faced Manmohan Singh. Our P.M. repeated the same old lines from the same stale script (“Our hearts go out to the families of those…..”), making one wonder whether he has a set of  clichéd speeches handy for every crisis -   natural disasters/ terror attacks/ epidemics/ train crashes/ riots/ miscellaneous- developments- of- a- scary- kind. And how hard that poor heart of his must be working to keep ‘going out’ to victims time and time again!

Khair. What a despairing nation witnessed was apathy and ineptitude on an epic level, when it came to leadership. Netas of every hue shamelessly exploited the tragedy, converting rescue operations into nauseating photo ops.  We saw scuffles between politicians racing to get there first on aircrafts they weren’t paying for. And we saw the unfortunate tussle between Rambo and Dumbo, as Narendra Modi and Rahul Gandhi tried hard to win dubious badges of  honour for ‘doing something’ during the crisis.While politicians will be politicians and vie for glory even during a tragedy by milking any and every opportunity,  the apparent indifference of corporate India was even more distressing.Whatever became of those highly flaunted private jets and choppers they jauntily pose with for glossies?Where were our flashy Billionaires when we needed them? Here was the beleaguered Indian Army  coping with an unprecedented situation. Here were fearless IAF pilots giving up their lives to save others (along with nameless police personnel and compassionate citizens). Each one striving day and night to do whatever was humanly possible to rescue  stranded pilgrims and locate bodies of the dead.Commandant Nitya Nand Gupta, heading the NDRF, sacrificed his own life, along with his crack team of 20 rescuers when the Mi – 17 helicopter crashed. Yes, India will honour and remember their extraordinary valour. Is that enough?

The most shocking allegation doing the rounds involves the anti-environmentalists position taken by the State’s CM, Vijay Bahuguna, who has strenuously lobbied to clear ambitious hydel projects at the cost of  massive deforestation. He went so far as to accuse the MoEF of ‘blocking’ development in his State. Critics point out that there was much more at stake in those mega deals than just the hydro power potential Bahuguna refers to. Let’s leave that for now and begin on a fresh note with a comprehensive development plan for what is a very important pilgrimage site for Hindus. What about providing roads and supporting infrastructure to facilitate easy access in future? What about reviewing some of those lop-sided development plans, which have also permitted the haphazard construction of shopping malls and hotels, carved out of   those very mountains that finally protested by caving in?

The Goddess has every right to be furious. Dhari Devi ( a manifestation of Kali), legendary protector of four dhams in the region, will not easily forgive the promoters of the 300 MW  Alaknanda Hydel Project  that allegedly wanted her out of the way before starting work. We are a superstitious and sentimental people. The curse of an enraged Goddess can (and has) moved mountains. Rivers, too. Let’s not anger Dhari Devi any further. Why not ask her for forgiveness and bring her home ?

Read More

My Rishikesh...

Another time.... another place....
Arundhati and I had spent four idyllic days on the banks of the Ganga in  Rishikesh during October 2012.... mesmerised by the holy river..... at peace with ourselves....
 We are praying for all those still trapped ... praying for the dead..... praying for grieving families...
Such tranquility... such beauty.... these images are reminders of what nature wants and intends....challenge nature, and face its fury.

Read More

What gals really, really want.....

This appeared in Mumbai Mirror.....

                                Why would any girl want to be one of the guys???

I was ridiculously jet lagged when I watched 100 crores and still counting YJHD (first day, second show). I could have opted out. But it was a family outing. I was prepared to doze off, wake up half an hour later, and feel like I hadn’t missed a thing. I was so wrong! The movie was just what my brain dead self needed to wake up and enjoy the pop corn.  Let’s get it straight – it’s not an art house film. It isn’t made to impress critics at Cannes. It is what it is – a glossy, glitzy, urban formula entertainer with two extraordinarily good looking and talented actors in the lead. Period. Do they manage to capture the zeitgeist? Yup, they do.  Does the script reflect what’s going on in urban India? Yup, again. Is the lingo in sync with our realities? Do Naina and Bunny touch our hearts? Is the romance real enough to extract laughs and tears? Do we know/ recognize people like Aditi and Avi? Yes, to all the above. Apart from the almost absurd deliciousness of  Ranbir Kapoor and Deepika Padukone, for me, the two scene stealers and heart breakers were Kalki Koelchin as Aditi and Aditya Roy Kapoor as Avi. It was their far more convoluted and tumultuous relationship that took the movie beyond rom-com ennui  into a slightly more complex terrain. On many levels, this is really Kalki’s film, since she is the surprise package. Kalki does not possess either Deepika’s spectacular body nor her mass appeal. And yet Kalki is so much more ‘today’ in this film than the picture perfect Deepika. Kalki starts as a feisty, audacious, free spirited gal pal of the two boys, who later (disappointingly) transforms into the standard ‘I’ll settle for the guy with the BMW, thank you,’ bride. We have all known versions of Kalki . Girls who are not particularly attractive but are  immensely popular with the boys, often because they opt to become one of them. They choose to sign up as honourary members of the Boy’s Club, smoking, boozing, cussing, gambling with the best of them. They can be easily spotted hanging out with the all-male crew, dressed in cropped shorts and ganjis. At some distant point the boys become men. But they quite forget that the sole female member of the gang has grown into a woman herself.  Win-win for the guys. Lose-lose for the chicks. Which is what happens to Aditi. And which is why she loses the man she loves and sensibly settles for a Beemer instead.

The question her character raises is important.Why do so many bright  young women opt to become ‘one of the boys’? Is it to create a differential between themselves and other ‘girlie-girls’? Is it to win some vague trophy in the highly competitive popularity stakes? Or, snag a suitable boy friend at a later stage?  I keep encountering versions of  Kalki  in real life. Often, I feel like offering solid ‘aunty advice’ to these misguided girls who are busy playing poker, swigging beer, puffing cigars, talking tough and trying a bit too hard to conform and fit in with a group of  fellas. What for? I mean – really! Most of them are fiercely competitive and pointedly ignore other women. They can be heard sharing a laugh with the guys as they diss a ‘typical’ girl on the fringes of the group, mocking her for being a prissy lady. Sometimes, one hears airy comments like , “ Oh please…. I have nothing in common with other women, I feel bored listening to their inane gossip. I’d rather hang with the guys. I am just more comfortable with men.” Sure. Maan liya. Then what happens?

This is where Kalki’s story in the movie gets more interesting than the far more predictable romance between Ranbir and Deepika (though, their proposal scene alone is worth the ticket). Being ‘one of the boys’ is a cool option sometimes. But more often than not, you get treated like a guy, too. If that’s what rows your boat, go for it. But if you want to have your bhel puri and eat it, too, think again.  Remember, Deepika gets Ranbir in the end (and he, her). Whereas, poor Kalki loses dishy Avi  and marries a good hearted, over weight clown ( Kunal Roy Kapur, heartbreakingly adorable)…. plus, the BMW, of course.

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

Blogdosts I am having picture-issues. For some strange reason, all my Spain pics are showing up ulta or thedha when I try to post them here. They behave themselves perfectly in other spaces. I have been dying to show off my fotoo-takeouting skills ( some pretty neat shots in my repertoire, even if I say so myself), but each time I upload a couple the images they get inverted. Is that a cosmic phenomenon.... like the Supermoon? Just kidding! But I know there are quite a few really smart people out there and I am seeking immediate help. Merci beaucoup. Gracias! Dhanyavad!

Read More

Turmoil in Turkey.... Chaos in Mumbai!

This appeared in the Asian Age....

                              Turmoil in Turkey….Chaos in Mumbai…

Mumbai could be Istanbul…. and Istanbul, Mumbai. And yet, vast distances separate the two cities.  I am not talking about just the miles that separate us.It’s the distance in our hearts and minds. I left Istanbul a day before the Taksim protests paralysed this lively, buzzed area packed with tourists and locals enjoying the mild weather and bright sunshine. My girl friend in Turkey pointed out various historic landmarks that dot the heart of this stunning city which  kisses the shimmering Bosphorus Strait. “ This is our lung,” she proudly pointed out, drawing  attention to what is now a globally recognized symbol of  the Turkish people’s angst and sense of outrage against the present government – the Gezi Park. Nothing all that special about the modest nine-acre park, one would say while comparing it to Hyde Park or Central Park. I took pictures of the large gates and noticed the number of people strolling in and out of the tranquil park that was slated to be sacrificed and converted into a (shudder,shudder)  shopping mall. When my friend mentioned how upset the people were with the Government’s arbitrary, unilateral decision to destroy 60 acres of greenery, I didn’t pay too much attention to her remark. Little did I know then what was to follow a few short hours later, when riot police cracked down harshly on unarmed protestors, spraying them with tear gas, drenching them with water cannons and making it abundantly clear there would be zero tolerance towards any demonstrations that challenged the fate of the park.

At about the same time back in Mumbai, there were intense debates raging about the fate of another equally important landmark - the Mahalakshmi Racecourse (built in 1883 and over 225 acres). But with one significant difference. These debates were being conducted by various political groups and the citizens were conspicuously absent during the discourse. Well, there were letters in the press and panel discussions on television. But beyond that – nothing of any consequence.And certainly nothing to suggest the likelihood of riots breaking out to save the Mahalakshmi Racecourse . If anything, the battle lines were drawn between vested interests claiming dubious ownership over what is a staggeringly valuable land mass in the heart of Mumbai. There was an unimaginable amount of wealth to be made. And the vultures were circling overhead…. ready to swoop at the first chance.This was perhaps Mumbai’s biggest land grab opportunity and there were any number of players  waiting impatiently to pounce on it .What a stark contrast to what was taking place in Istanbul. It wasn’t just about the threatened Gezi Park, of course. Or the old trees the environmentalists were trying to save there. And let’s not even try and guess whether there will be a Turkish Spring . The key thing is that it was a spontaneous  uprising of  people across the country. Ordinary citizens who had bravely decided to stand up and be counted. And it was the people again, who had boldly  challenged the diktats of  a man who had successfully won two terms as Prime Minister, and was angling for a record third.  Reccep Tayyip Erdogan  clearly misread the mood of his people in general and the protestors in particular, when he called them ‘looters’. The damage was done. Instead of backing off meekly,the protestors stepped up the agitation and the escalated acts of defiance  stunned and impressed the watching world.

Nothing of the sort happens here in India. Or is likely to. Last week there were horrifying reports of   the wanton destruction of 50 acres of mangroves which were dubbed ‘invasive species’ and destroyed by rapacious builders ‘developing’ the posh Lokhandwala area. In another shocking incident bulldozers rolled into the 5.5 acres of the controversial Willingdon Colony and brazenly pulled down five bungalows without seeking clearance from the heritage committee. Never mind that this nasty move flouted all rules of the SRA ( Slum Rehabilitation Authority). There wasn’t a squeak of protest from anybody of any reckoning. The reasons for this apathy are simple : citizens are terrified of the consequences. We have unilaterally surrendered Mumbai and handed it over to gangsters parading as politicians.Every single political party  operating in and around Mumbai is after just one thing  - land. And to get that, these goons stop at nothing – murder included. What can the aam aadmi do? Go to the cops? That’s a joke. By the time a complaint gets registered, the land is gone! Besides, when it comes to the nexus between the Mumbai police, the Municipal corporators and the political class, it’s one big happy family that feeds off the many loopholes and laws governing our precious spaces. And that’s the way it has always been. When rulers themselves are gangsters collectively working to annihilate a once great metropolis, perhaps the resignation of citizens is easier to condone.

Even so, what happened in Istanbul serves as a valuable lesson to us in far off Mumbai. If we at all care about our city, we shouldn’t just sit tight and let those rogues take over what rightfully belongs to every Mumbaikar. Today, it’s the Racecourse, tomorrow it will be Hanging Gardens and next the Zoo. We watched silently as mill land in Central Mumbai was sold to overnight developers fronting for politicians. We did nothing about the wanton destruction of our life-saving mangroves. We care a hoot about our heritage buildings.We have become bystanders to all the rot around us. We weren’t always like this. So why have we given up the fight today without   even the fig leaf of resistance? Any answers?

My takeaway from the recent Turkey trip was this : the Turks have not lost their passion. They have not forgotten the past. And they are concerned about the future. It’s not just that one park that belongs to the people, it is the entire country – every square centimetre of it. It’s time we reclaimed our own.

Read More

Pretty Boys all in a Row

This appeared in The Week...

             Pretty Boys  all in a row…

I have stopped visiting my neighbourhood parlour. There are several reasons for that. But primarily, I don’t go in there anymore, because I feel what used to be a welcoming, estrogen-driven comfort zone in the past has now turned into a pretty embarrassing space. Why’s that ? Well for several years, there have been more men than women perched in those fancy chairs. I have absolutely nothing against male vanity ( swear!), but I so wish those blokes would stick to their own salons and leave us to ours. Visualise this : a youngish, attractive-ish  lady  is getting her upper lip waxed/ bleached/ threaded. Right next to her sits a burly, hirsute man getting his nostril hairs clipped….is this a pleasant sight for either of them to be subjected to? I think not. Here’s another common scenario : a middle –aged desperate housewife has pulled up her billowy maxi to reveal alarmingly hairy legs that are in serious need of depilation. Her regular girl is examining the hairs closely and offering a graphic commentary (“ Madamji…. Why did you wait for such a long time? You have a forest growing on your legs. This is going to pain! Why don’t you go in for our full body laser treatment? We are offering a summer discount. Or, there is another good package – get your arms, legs and underarms waxed and we’ll give you the bikini wax for free.”). The hirsute man is listening keenly. He butts in to ask, “What about a full body wax for me?” Aaaargh!

Most beauty parlour chairs these days are taken by beauty conscious men who somehow prefer to patronise newly made over uni-sex salons. Some of the guys are much prettier than the ladies. Certainly, they are better groomed. I notice their meticulously tweezed eyebrows, neat French manicures, shaped hairlines, tinted forelocks, pampered pedicured feet…. and marvel at how hard they’ve worked to look that way! By contrast, most women in the same salon resemble shabby laundry bags. They’ve turned up in crumpled caftans, flip flops, a make-up less face, straggly eyebrows, chipped nail varnish, and worse  -   dense hair on their visible body parts.Almost without an exception, they can be overheard complaining about the lack of time (“ I’ve been working like a beast without a break for two straight months. When I am not in the office, I am on a plane. There’s just no time for all this nonsense.”). The men listen in to the conversation and occasionally offer helpful tips. Wait a minute – was it all that long ago when we women formed the sympathetic audience nodding understandingly while men banged on about their mad work schedules and how they lived on airplanes?? Oh dear. The new order is far from appealing.We know the market for men’s beauty products is out-galloping every other cosmetics’ category. But sharing night cream and hand lotion with your lover/husband is a bit much! It’s almost as yucky as sharing a toothbrush.

Hmmm. A lot has changed. I am all for change. Change is good. Change is exciting. But this kind of change? Naah! If men really, really want to blow dry their hair, paint their toe nails, wax their armpits and fix various parts of themselves, can they not create their own spas and salons? This is the worst kind of male intrusion into our personal space since the introduction of common lavatories. I resent it vehemently and wish to reclaim the territory. But seeing the time crunch both men and now, increasingly women too, keep griping about, here’s an idea for Richard Branson : How about full- fledged beauty salons on board those wretchedly long flights? Once upon a time Virgin did offer similar facilities in the smashing Virgin lounge at Heathrow ( I had a terrific hair cut there). It’s time to extend the same facilities on long haul flights. But puh-leeze, Richard darling – separate cubicles, yes?We know you love drag. But do think of paying passengers who aren’t as adventurous, okay, sweetie???

Read More

I am back!

This appeared in Sunday Times today....

                                      SSC,First Class Ambika’s journey has just begun…

A young girl came to meet me just after the SSC results were declared. She had passed with flying colours – a first class, no less.She needed a little advice as she was very confused. At age sixteen, her state of mind was entirely understandable. Ambika 9 that’s her name) is a really remarkable teenager for several reasons. And here’s why: As a resident of an over crowded slum colony close by, she is the first person from her family to have attended school. Her mother is a sweeper in the area. And her father, a labourer. Both parents have worked tirelessly, often slaving for fourteen hours a day, to see her and her brother through school. Good schools, says the mother as she opens a box of pedas and asks her daughter to touch the feet of elders and seek their blessings. “Her life is going to be different – she will not clean toilets and scrub floors like me. She will go to college. She will study hard. She will make something of  her self… I am sure of that.” So she will. I am equally sure. She is not alone. There are thousands of Ambikas in India today. And they are getting a shot at changing their destiny, transforming not just their own lives but the lives of so many other hopefuls banking on India’s prosperity and progress.

These are just a few of the more powerful and positive stories emerging out of today’s India. And we should be proud of them. Twenty years ago, a girl like Ambika would not have stood a chance  to put her foot into a school. She would have been doomed and damned from the time of her birth.And she would have accepted her fate philosophically, just as her mother had accepted her own. The big question is,what becomes of an Ambika after she gets admission into a ‘good’ college, as she well deserves to? And this is the tricky part that has no clear answers. Here we are, still concentrating on non-issues  and negatives, squabbling, arguing and fighting among ourselves as to who will be the next prime minister of our country. As if, once that is sorted, all our troubles will automatically vanish. Two weeks ago, we watched in dismay as the BJP biggies met in Goa and applied the tilak on Modi’s forhead, while a patriarch sulked in another city and other family elders boycotted the event. It was a shabby show of churlishness and disunity that sent out a distressing message to Young India. In place of wisdom, sobriety and a grand vision , what the young saw was an ugly public rift that sent out terrible signals. It was a little like a huge family wedding going for a toss when the Grand Old Man starts behaving like a spoilt brat for not getting enough importance during the saat pheras. Absurd and demoralizing said our disappointed youngsters who had hoped for something far more uplifting and dignified.

Now, all eyes will be on the Congress to see how those guys handle what could be a similar scenario. They also have an elderly gentlemen with mega ambitions of  becoming the next P.M. ( again!). And there is a Prince waiting in the wings for the Queen Mother to organise his coronation .  Well, the sooner that happens, the better. At least, the young voter won’t be left in a limbo wondering: Who? What? When?  It is always the suspense in a thriller that creates the tension – not the climax.The BJP has taken care of that. It’s Modi. Take it or leave it. Next! Now all eyes will be on the Congress, unless of course, we are all caught off guard by a brand new candidate popping out of the woodwork. Either which way, let’s just get on with it. Young Ambika’s future is at stake. Her dreams are directly linked to India’s future. If she feels thwarted and let down, we are in trouble. Big trouble. But are any of our mighty netas thinking of her?

I wish I could have offered sage advice and reassurance when Ambika sought it. But I was sounding hollow to my own ears. Our bachchalog have a built in radar and can sense discomfort very easily. I backed off and quietly accepted the offered pedas. The next elections are upon us.There are just two key issues that need to be addressed : tackling corruption and creating jobs. If the country moves forward, so will Ambika. It will be a win- win situation for both. But if not?? Will Ambika resign herself to a life without promise, like her mother did? Unlikely. Ambika will strike back and demand her rights. Ambika’s time has come….ignore her and face defeat.

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

Why upside down??? Don't ask!!! Because our world is also ulta.....

Read More