The Cross She Bears

" Your mother has asked for a pair of gold earrings, and, necklace, for your brother's wedding. She says, the ladies in the neighbourhood have been urging her, to flex the mother-in-law muscle, and, demand jewellery from her daughters-in-law, so that, she will not look unadorned at her own son's wedding"

" Hmm..."

" She does have a point, you know. It reflects badly on the family, when, the mother of the groom wears no gold at all, at her son's wedding. All the more so, when her daughters-in-law are dripping gold"

" The gold prices have sky-rocketed, and, it would be foolish to buy now. Once it falls a little, we can think of getting her something"

" But, what about the wedding? If, this has become a topic of discussion in the village, I, don't want, to bear the brunt of every-one's questions at the wedding. Maybe, I should lend her one of my sets."

" No, no. That will only lead to more gossip, and, scandal, especially since we have never gifted my mother anything so far."

" So, then, let us give her one of my old sets and you can buy me a new one later. After all, she is your mother, and, she did sell her jewellery to educate you and your brothers. You do have a responsibility towards her, you know?"

" Well, I have two other brothers also. And, they are supposed to be as responsible as I am. So, what is the big deal?"

" The big deal, is that, SHE has asked me, and, if we do not give her anything, then I will be portrayed as the mean daughter-in-law in the village. Why should my image take a beating? After all, she is, YOUR, mother, not mine. It is your responsibility, not mine. She should not even be asking me in the first place"

" I do not have money to waste right now, especially when we are trying to survive this God awful recession. As it is, our expenses are soaring with your family living with us in the city. This is the problem with my mother. She does not understand how difficult life is or even, what a recession is!!! "

" Well, we have to do something"

" Hmmmm..Maybe, if she raises the topic again, you can give her one of your lightest chains and earrings too. You know, one of those which you wear to work. I will get you a much better one in a few months. But, don't say a word until she, or, one of the elder aunts, raises the topic"

Silent tears of pain coursed down her wizened cheeks, as she huddled into her little nook, shielded by darkness - her lone, trusted ally

Not even in her wildest dreams had she imagined this scenario.

To think, she, had, once, been the richest bride in five villages.
And, the most beautiful too.

Today, she, had to be, the poorest mother in five villages.
And, the most aged too.

Sometimes, motherhood, can be, the toughest cross, a woman has to bear.

The Changing Times

Once upon a time, not so long in the distant past, the term ' Bombay Sisters ' would have conjured up visions, of a pair of kanjivaram*clad matrons, with gargantuan red bindis,** and, a coil of fragrant mallipoo*** tucked into their dark tresses, singing soulfully at a kutcheri****.

They were, without doubt, entertainers of immense calibre.

Today, one, can never be sure, if the reference is to artistes, or,traumatised victims of abuse.

The Times...They, sure, are a-changing!!!




*Kanjivaram - A district outside Chennai, renowned for its heavy silk saris.
**Bindi - The coloured dot favoured by Indian women as a form of adornment
***malli poo - Jasmine flowers
****Kutcheri - Carnatic Music Concert

Will The Goliath Fall Again?

A grey-black rodent scurried across the room, startling kitty into irritable wakefulness.
Its temerity, seemed to amaze her.
And, roused, the blood-thirsty huntress, sleeping within.
As it did, the primeval need to protect, that, which was solely hers.

I watched kitty arrange her face, into a mask of intense concentration.
And, determinedly stalk the mouse, to a hidey hole.

As its tail vanished into the dark depths, she furrowed her fuzzy brows, and, stared.
Willing it to reappear.

Much to her disappointment, the rodent, refused to oblige.

Kitty looks over at me, questioningly.
And, is miffed, as I laugh in her furry face.

But, she was not to be denied.
Feigning disinterest, she, languidly, decides to lick her paws, as she kept vigil.

As I watched the two, at their game, I was reminded of another battle being waged elsewhere in our country.
Between, a modern day David, who, has had the temerity, to challenge Goliath, in the heart of his kingdom.

Well, maybe not David.

For, David was a man.
And, if my memory serves me right, David did not dance his way into fame.
Nor, did he boldly march, into the heart of enemy territory, to issue his challenge.

The challenger, in this instance, is an audacious dancing girl!

A lady, of immense moral strength, who dares pit her singular strength against the might of the saffron brigade in Gujarat. And, more importantly, against their prime ministerial candidate, L.K Advani, none the less.

Courage?
Integrity?
Idealism?
Or, has the famous danseuse, foolishly rushed in, where, even angels fear to tread?

Much has been said about Mallika Sarabhai's decision to toss her dainty anklets into the political fray.
Is she right?
For, those of us, who believe in change. And, a better India, for us, and, our children.
The answer can only be a resounding YES!

Mallika is a true daughter of the soil.
Having lived in Gandhinagar, and, being, firmly enmeshed in the fabric of its society, she has, behind her, the power of the social organisations, the support of luminaries, and, most importantly, as she claims, the might of the common man.

The Saffron Brigade, like my kitty, conveniently feigns disinterest.
Or, perhaps, it is beneath them, to acknowledge a dancing girl as a real threat.
Who knows?

India, it appears, cannot make up her mind.
Defeat seems inevitable.
And, yet, miracles are, also, known to happen.

Will The Goliath Fall Once More?

I sure hope so.

Imagine.

How deliciouly ironic would it be, if the BJP, & its rabid moral police squadron, were to taste defeat at the hands of a mere dancing girl???







Note: The reference to Ms. Sarabhai as the Dancing Girl, is not meant to be derogatory. Its usage in this post is with a good measure of sarcasm, as it is most likely, how Modi, Advani and the rest of the BJP goons would see the situation. Mallika Sarabhai is a highly talented individual, for whom I have the utmost respect.

My Body, My Rights!!!

Yet another blow has been struck at womankind.
And for once, I am at a loss as to how to react.
Voices around me register anger and outrage.I am tempted to join in and fume at the impotent guardians of this nation. I am tempted to demand of the media how they could stand-by, recording this moment of shame for posterity, when they could have help averted it. But above all, I want to demand explanations from the mute spectators at that Manglorean pub for their passive silence.

As I attempt to transcribe my thoughts to paper, my hands are stayed.Not because anger cannot find its voice. Because I do not know how much of my ire is rooted in fear.
Yes, Fear.
I never thought I would live to say these words. Me, who thought the world was mine for the taking. And, never was afraid of anything, except letting myself down.

I had always known that I would fulfill my responsibilities to myself. Being responsible for ME -body, mind and soul -kept me happy in my skin, all the more so because I got to make up the rules as I went along.
I worked for a living, not because I had to but because I wanted to. I favoured western clothes over the sari. I enjoyed being with myself & my thoughts. I pursued my passions with great enthusiasm. I prayed. I enjoyed the odd glass of wine. I relished my binges. I loved having friends in all sizes and shapes and, of both sexes. I travelled. I indulged myself when I thought I owed myself a treat. And today,I think I am all the more richer for my knowledge and experiences.
I think I am a woman who knows her mind and is not afraid to speak it.
I know I am a woman who is willing to take charge of her life & live it on her terms.
And, I sense I am a woman who would violently antagonise the Talibanistic mentality of our society.
Which is why I now feel the first stirrings of fear.
I cannot help but wonder if I have taken my independence and freedom for granted.
At first, I thought not.
After all, Liberty & Equality are basic human rights, due to me as to any other human being on earth. So why the fear?
It isn't the self titled defenders of the faith who worry me. When I see a Government which refuses to ban organisations whose members blatantly violate basic human rights.. the politicians who bay for the eradication of the pub & mall culture...When I see the media sensationalising to escalate TRP ratings than offer real solutions..And when the silence of the masses encourages crimes against humanity..I experience a frisson of fear. Because it becomes painfully apparent that while all Indians are born liberated and equal, some grow to be less liberated and equal than the rest....Like us lowly women?

Mangalore is not just an affront to women. It is a slap on the face of humanity. I do not know how many would see it that way. To those who would attempt to shrug away this blot in the name of Indian culture and Hinduism, I say remember Kunti*. Remember Gargi**. And, remember Durga***.
The ladies of yore show us the way forward.
To live our lives fearlessly by our dictates and of none other..
To raise our voices against those who seek to gag us...
And to guard our dignity from those who would crush it...
We must remember that if we do not stand up for ourselves & our sisters, no one else will.






* Kunti: The mother of three of the Pandava brothers from the Indian epic Mahābhārata, Kunti is a figure of great importance within many Hindu traditions. Kunti was given a special boon which enabled her to bear the sons of great celestial devas as many times as she wished. Kunti had four sons - Karna by Surya, Yudhishtara by Yama, Bhima by Vayu & Arjuna by Indra.
** Gargi: This ancient Indian female philosopher is mentioned in the Sixth and the Eighth Brahmana of Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, where at a philosophic congress she challenged the sage Yajnavalkya with perturbing questions on the soul. In Vedic literature, she is honored as one of the great natural philosophers.
*** Durga: In Hinduism, Durga is a form of Devi, and an embodiment of creative feminine force (Shakti). Durga exists in a state of svātantrya (dependence on the universe and nothing/nobody else, i.e., self-sufficiency) and fierce compassion. Durga manifests fearlessness and patience.
[Source: Wikipedia]

Long Live The Mob!

There are times when I am ashamed of being a Indian.
And then, there are times when I am embarrassed to be a woman.
But both at the same time?
That happens only once in an azure blue moon....Like this morning, when I chanced to read the story of young Saba Najam.
Saba Najam, a 20-something Pakistani student was roughed up in a Mumbai mall last week, only because she dared sport a tattoo in Urdu which thanked the Good Lord above.
Before you ask....No, this was not the handiwork of Raj Thackarey's goons. Nor was it a mob of rabid men using religion to crush a woman. This, believe it or not people, was a case of women using religion to break the spirit of one of their own.
And why?
Not because religious sentiments were actually wounded. I suspect it had everything to do with an over-possessive mommy who needed to vent her blind fury at the object her dearest sonny boy desired!!!
How else can we explain the alacrity with which Shabana Talukdar responded to her son's complaints about a brazen hussy in the mall who, heaven forbid, actually dared to have ‘Shukr Alham Du Lillah’[Thank you, God’] inscribed on her back?
Now, did mommy stop to ask her darling boy just what he was doing hanging around in the mall, scrutinising the figures of strange women?
No, she did not.
Did she try educating her son about living and letting others live?
Again, the answer is a resounding no.
But instead, the lady and her cronies marched over to the mall and proceeded to beat up a girl who was young enough to be her daughter!!!
Did anyone object? NO!!!
The mall authorities passed the matter over to a local police station where, despite her profuse apologies, young Saba was forced to submit a statement promising to have the tattoo removed within 3 days!!!
Ironic isn't it?
All the more so, when one considers the admission of the police inspector that" “There was nothing objectionable about the tattoo and there are no legal provisions under which we could have booked her. But since the group of people were agitated we asked Saba to give her statement in writing.”
The news report shamed me...As did some of the reader comments which showed no sympathy for the victim!!!!
What was Saba being penalised for?
Her nationality? That she dared assume ownership of her own body and embellished it as she deemed fit? Or was it because she had inadvertently attracted lust from a vicious mall rat?
All three, I suspect....Going by the responses of the people concerned.
Everyone - the whining pansy, his rabid mother & her cohorts, the by-standers, the authorities & even the media - has conveniently turned a blind eye to the real truth...The truth that this is not a legitimate case of religious impropriety or hurt sentiments, but one of assault on an innocent girl.
Saba Najam has returned to Lahore...
Riyaz Ahmed Talukdar says he is happy she is gone...
His mother must be gloating in glee...
Viva La Mob Power!!!

About Respectability & Honesty

A storm broke last week....And it continues to rage on....
An incredible amount of sound-byte has been expended on the description and analysis of this catastrophe. I guess it will continue until the next sensation rocks us.
Last night, I happened to watch an interview with Mr. N Narayana Murthy, the face of Indian IT, where he stressed upon the need for creating an environment of respectability in corporate India. He also called upon the media to undertake an annual publication of the 50 most respectable personalities in India, so that respectability became aspirational.
Mr. Murthy's word of the evening surprised me.....Respectability???
Not Honesty. Or even Integrity. But, respectability!!!
I took umbrage to Mr. Murthy's call for respectability for one simple reason. That Respectability is Not a Synonym for Honesty!
Satyam was a company that reeked of respectability...Pretty much like Infosys. It was listed on foreign stock exchanges...Certified to the highest industry norms...Rated as one of the best employers and has to its credit, an enviable string of awards. However, all the hype and medals did not make Satyam an ethical organisation.
As I watched Mr. Murthy speak, I was reminded of Infosys's moment of shame in 2002, when NRN's protege and Infosys were slapped with a sexual harassment suit. Those who followed the story would remember that the lady in question elected to move the American courts rather than seek justice through Infy's much lauded internal mechanisms of corporate governance.
As the the Demi-Gods of Infy raced to patch the damage sustained by their shield of respectability, I wonder if they had, at any point, paused to allow the painful truth to register.....That Ms. Maximovitch did not trust her employer to ensure justice was done by her.....And if one employee lacked faith, then how many more walked amongst the multitudes that throng Infy's plush campuses?
For some in India Inc., respectability is closely integrated with truth. For many others, it is all about maintaining appearances.
If we take a cold hard look at facts, we will see that the central theme of the Satyam story is not about the lack of respectability. It is about dishonesty. And negligence. And irresponsibility.... As much on the part of the auditors, bankers and a host of certifying & regulatory bodies in India and Abroad, as on the part of Team Satyam and the Rajus.
Respectability, in my opinion, merely masked the problems within!
So, would that make Respectability the answer Corporate India is really looking for?
I am not entirely sure....
Idealistic as it may seem....Difficult as it may be.....I would STILL vote for ethics and integrity!!!

Not Enron, Just Satyam!

The Satyam Fiasco has caught every one's fancy.
Software pros across India are either ruing their bad luck or thanking their lucky stars, depending on the brand they sport on their corporate gear.
India Inc. can't stop talking about it...
And the media just can't stop licking its chomps in glee....
Why ever not? After all, we have our very own 'Enron' now.
The nation's acquisition of a corporate debacle in the true American mould comes hot on the trail of India's 9/11. A few short weeks ago, Mumbai writhed in the vice grip of terrorism. Of course, at the time, our over-enthusiastic media conveniently forgot similar incidents of terror which has been rocking the nation at regular intervals over the past couple of years.....Such was the media's eagerness for an attack which would place it at par with the World Trade Center tragedy.
And now, we have been given the Enron moment.
Our eagerness to liken and brand our national tragedies with those of another nation baffles me.
Isn't each nation's sorrows and shame unique to itself?
We didn't call the Bhopal Gas Tragedy anything other than the Bhopal Gas Tragedy. Probably because there wasn't an industrial disaster of its magnitude in the annals of American history. The Bhopal Gas Tragedy remains the world's worst industrial disaster and yet, no where in the world, have we seen a similar catastrophe being rechristened as Bhopal.
So why Enron? And why 9/11?
Why not just Satyam and 26/11?
Can't help but wonder what's next on the cards....Ku Klax Klan episodes? Or perhaps, Palin moments in the next elections? Or maybe, India will find her Obama!
Your guess is as good as mine!!!

The Importance Of Not Being Different.....

Last evening,I saw a young woman break down because the pressure of being 'nice & stable' wrecked her nerves! "People just push me" she wailed disconsolately "Sometimes it is such an effort to be nice.The nicer I try to be, the more they push. And when I crack, they crib about me being temperamental and weak or a b****, if not both? "
"Why not draw lines and tell them a firm no when the impossible lands on your plate?" I asked curiously.
I was rewarded with a blank stare. "That would still make me a temperamental b****, wouldn't it?" she retorted exasperatedly.

*********

A dear friend worries about her son's refusal to fulfil his filial obligations by marrying a suitable girl. She is tired of answering to family and friends about her eldest-born's singledom, which more often than not triggers off a guilt induced bride hunt. At particularly bad moments, she even worries if he is gay.

The merry bachelor,who is a romantic at heart, has denied the charge many times over and in a moment of weakness, had even offered himself up as a sacrifice on the altar of parental expectations...Just so that his mother's mind would be at rest. But, that only brought on fresh waves of maternal guilt.

"It's a catch 22 situation" she mourned " I understand his need to find the right partner and he does make perfect sense, but when people approach me with that look in their eyes and ask me why he is still single, I feel miserable...All the more so because his friends, peers and cousins are married and most even have a couple of kids...As much as I love him, I just wish he would fit into the mould!!!"

*********

My mother had a near meltdown when I blithely announced that I just might adopt at the ripe old age of 60."Why adopt? " She inquired with shock and disapproval." One never knows about an orphan's genes" she intoned like Cassandra, probably visualising the infant Jack the Ripper or maybe the chain saw murderer toddling after her on all fours.

"What will people say? Why can't you just get pregnant and have a baby the way normal people do?" She wailed in dismay.
I tried explaining that it is because I just like the idea of adopting..And that it is something I think a lot more people should be doing..Not as the last alternative but as the first.
But she doesn't get it.... As probably a large section of our combined social circles wouldn't either.

*********

An old friend from home was divorced recently. Much to her sorrow, she also lost custody of her beloved child. Well, not exactly lost.....Surrendered would be the more appropriate word. For when the battle got vicious and nasty, her gentle soul had no choice but to surrender.
One lazy Sunday afternoon, we met for coffee and some old fashioned girl-talk. But as we worked our way through endless cups of coffee, the conversation became deeper, stronger and more honest.
As she bared her soul that afternoon, it became painfully apparent that the divorce had not only robbed her off the comforts of domesticity and motherhood, but had also unravelled the various strands of life, as she knew it, into a tangled mess.
Friends and family had melted away, shying away from being saddled with the physical and emotional responsibility of a young single woman....Not that she asked for it. People had no compunctions about mindlessly judging and labelling her as " selfish", "headstrong" and even "wanton". All at once, she had become a social pariah....A loose end her society did not know what to do with.
Indeed she had followed the dictates of her heart, but she had also paid too high a price for her choices. Aloneness.
" I never realised that life could be so difficult for a divorcee. Sorry, a divorced woman" She corrected herself with a wry smile. " People think I am un-motherly to have given up my child. They will never understand why I did so. Even my immediate family does not hesitate to brand me as immoral and as a monster....And imagine, if I had been unhappily married, I would have been highly acceptable..." She ended bitterly.

As I held her hand in mute sympathy, promising her that the shadows would, one day, dispel and that she would find happiness again..I could not help but wonder just why it was so darn important that we all conform?

Why is it deemed a luxury to follow one's heart, if it makes us different?
I know, I know..This is a radical post...
But seriously, how wrong can the voice of our soul be?

Being Type-Cast

A cold blustering morning. The chill in the air threatened to permeate my head, lungs and sinus.
So I casually flung my black pashmina over my head & sought an opinion from the lady in the mirror. Casual Chic, she confirmed smugly as I stepped into my black heels and put on my over sized dark glasses.

I swept into work with my head held high...a little like Greta Garbo, I imagined.

But my aplomb was soon to be shattered into smithereens!

" Oooh, you look like a Parsi lady" squealed one.
" No, Parsis do not wear head scarves...You look like a conservative Muslim woman.." pronounced an erudite second.
As I haughtily opened my mouth to educate the lesser mortals on the differences between a hijab and a casually wound scarf, a third quipped up
" You really should wear a bindi....how else will people know you are a Hindu?"
* deep sigh*

Terrorists? Naah,..This Is Chennai After All!!!

Never send a man in to do a woman's job, proclaim the male-bashers. Or better still, if you want a job done right the first time, send in a woman.....
Easier said than done, my friends.
What does one do when the woman who is supposed to do the job not only refuses to do so, but also confounds the daylights out of you by shadow fighting invisible demons around you?
This was what I had to contend with at the Chennai Railway station early this morning.
Considering the increased security at all stations and airports, I assumed that I could no longer indulge in the luxury of racing in at the last minute and chasing my train down the platform as I was want to do.
So for once, I was at the station early...
Truth be told, I was rather pleased with myself as I alighted from the cab with my countless bags.
And why ever not?
Here I was, being a responsible citizen and doing my bit to keep the motherland safe....The very thought put a spring in my step, even at that early hour!!
I cheerfully flagged down a semi drunk porter, who fortunately was too far gone to take umbrage. A few terse sentences later, we had arrived at his price and were on our way towards the friskers,beepers and the men in khaki.
My bonhomie went down a notch at the first entrance, which much to my surprise,seemed quite deserted. Even the guardians of the detector frames were missing in action. Every now and then, a stray citizen with a heightened sense of patriotism dutifully walked through the detector wearing a baffled expression that questioned the purpose of his act.
I would have liked to stop and stare and ponder on the mystery of the deserted entrance but the speed at which my inebriated porter was racing ahead precluded any such thought. So I raced after him through the bustling crowds as if my life depended on it. And in minutes, I had joined a score other passengers in a queue that slowly snaked towards the beepers. Beside me an indolent, pot-bellied cop yawned..Once...Twice....And then I forgot to focus, because my attention was arrested by the sight of my porter who adroitly sidestepped another slumbering man in khaki to run around the beepers and into the station.
I grimly looked around for a vigilant officer of law, half expecting one to spring out from behind the detector frame and pounce on the porter. But no one emerged. It appeared that the only eyelid being batted in surprise was mine. Apparently, miscreant porters dashing past security lines was quite the routine and no acts of terror anywhere else in the country was going to effect any change in the system!!!
As for my rogue, did he even stop to glance back at me?.... Oh no, he did not!...
He forged on ahead to goodness knows where, while I fumed in the queue and bid goodbye to my worldly belongings. Fortunately for me, he was not just drunk and without sense, but was also unschooled in numbers and alphabets. As I watched his retreating back, he stopped short in front of a display board and stood there swaying, with my bags on his head, peering uncertainly at the streaming information.
Heaving a sigh of relief and sending up a prayer of gratitude to the powers above, I turned my attention back to the business of being frisked and searched.
Indignant complaints about the miscreant porter died on my lips as I realised that people ahead of me in the queue were merrily dashing through the beepers and past a lady cop with a frisker who seemed more interested in practising her backhand than frisk people. This was indeed a state of affairs to be remedied...
Patriotism rose to my mouth as bitter gall as I watched her prancing around sweeping and stroking the air around her...and occasionally jabbing some invisible foe.
" Excuse me, but I am waiting for you to frisk me"
" Oh, that's OK madam...you can go on"
" Are you not going to frisk me???" My voice dripped with saccharine sweet venom which glided off her back with no seeming effect. Clearly, her invisible foe merited greater attention because with a long suffering expression she tried to wave me on
" Madam, please carry on..."
" How can you not scan me??? Or anyone else? Did you not hear about the attacks in Mumbai?? It started in the railway station...."
" Madam, I can see that you are not a terrorist..." She explained patiently, all the while eyeing a point beyond me with increasing malevolence. If I didn't know better, I would have assumed that she was trying to turn her xray vision on to my form to scan for concealed arms and ammunition.
" And you are allowing porters to walk around the detectors...Do you realise how easy it would be for anyone to put a bomb in the station or any train??..."
Behind me, I could hear a gentle rumbling. Aha, more patriotic citizens making their displeasure felt, I gleefully thought as I wheeled around to deliver a rabble rousing speech....But, much to my dismay, I was faced with a series of cross, disgruntled faces. Someone in the crowd said I should take my argument elsewhere. Another grumbled all too loudly about modern day girls who were all too anxious to seek trouble where it did not exist. People, it seemed, had trains to catch and lives to live which did not offer much scope for terrorist involvement.
As I swallowed down my anger and frustration, the lady Don Quixote in Khaki sought to reassure me
" Don't worry madam...which terrorist will come here? After all, this is Chennai..."
Numb with shock, I could only allow myself to be carried forward by the surging crowd...towards the perplexed rogue porter who was still peering at the streaming information.
I think I shall be a wee bit more careful the next time I am tempted to moan and gripe about Chennai. After all, one can never say when one's words will come back to bite her on her posterior!!!
Talk about cosmic retribution...
* deep long sigh*

How Dare They???

Sonia Gandhi who now declares "We can no longer sit back....."
This after almost 5 years of governance!!!
Sure you can't sit back, lady...Not with elections round the corner.

L.K Advani & Raj Nath Singh who refused to participate in the Government's all party meet because they wanted to go campaigning...
Non participation makes the blame game so much easier, does it not?

The CM of Maharashtra who visited the Taj with his entertainer son and a film director in tow...
Gifting Idea for the Deshmukh family: A copy of Julius Caesar with the "Caesar's wife must be above suspicion" quote flagged for easy reference???

R.R. Patil, the Dy. CM of Maharashtra, who claims that such incidents can happen in a big city
What if it had been the state Government which was held hostage in its seat of power?

Abhishek Singhvi who told the survivors of the ordeal, & an entire nation, that if R.R Patil remotely meant what he said, to trivialise the acts of terror in anyway, he would be the first to condemn him.
Seriously Mr. Singhvi, who bloody cares what he meant?

Interestingly, in the NDTV show 'We The People' aired earlier this evening, Barkha Dutt mentioned that the channel had attempted and failed to rope in several politicians to participate in a discussion with the survivors of the ordeal and a few leading citizens of the city. Apparently, Abhishek Singhvi was the only one who accepted the gauntlet.
So why didn't Ms. Dutt name the politicians and expose them for the yellow bellied skunks they are?

Post Update
And just when we thought the politicos couldn't sink any lower, Mukhtar Abbas Naqvi of the "lipstick & powder" gaffe and V S Achuthanandan of " ....Even a dog would not have visited that house" fame, stepped up to restore the public's faith in the Slime Quotient of our politicians.

When will we see light at the end of the tunnel???

Salut Mumbai!!!

The terror and carnage is back....Once again, India bleeds. This time, we have been hit where it really hurts!

Mumbai is a city besieged...And the nightmare continues even as I type.
Like millions across the country, I can only suppress my horror and pray for some reprieve...Mumbai needs our prayers like never before.
Brave men have laid down their lives....Civilians, Commandos, Policemen, Tourists......Innocent people are still being killed. May God keep their souls and grant their loved ones the strength to cope with the loss. The media, as expected, is turning this into a circus. The only saving grace is that the blame game is not on...Thank goodness for small mercies!
The name of the outfit responsible matters no more....The Lashkar, SIMI or Mujahiddins of any nomenclature....What is in a name, after all? Terrorists, by any name, are still terrorists.
The only thing that matters is that the situation be dealt with with an iron hand... By the concerned agencies, the Government and by each and every denizen of this country.

When I spoke to friends and colleagues in Mumbai this morning, I was amazed to hear that life still goes on. People are out at work, on the roads, thumbing their noses at those who would tear asunder the fabric of our nation...
Bravo Mumbai, Bravo!

Jago India Jago*!!!

A live bomb defused in Bangalore this morning, thanks to the vigilant citizens who are now quite determined not to bow down to the weak terror threats. I am rather proud of my adopted city..for the resilience it has displayed and the alacrity with which it has bounced back on to its feet. But the sense of exhilaration was short lived. This evening, as I cut through the bustling crowds on Cunningham Road to one of my favourite bookshops for a much needed browse, a rather excited DSK rang " Have you heard the latest news?? Serial blasts in Ahmedabad.....there were 7 blasts....oh oh oh..its 13 now!!!....This sounds more serious...the bombs were in tiffin boxes and on cycles...there are people hurt and killed....Are you outside??? Please get yourself home fast, ok?" And that was the end of an evening jaunt for many of us. Clearly, the word was spreading and people were heading home to safety and to tune into the latest news.
Shucks, what is happening in India???...It's almost as if the Toiba thugs are conducting practical recruitment tests all over our country to rope in fresh candidates!!! When will the powers-that-be wake up and do something???

* Jago = wake up [hindi]