Bitter vs. Insecure: The Natwar Singh-Sonia Gandhi Saga

Natwar Singh is right about one thing: Sonia Gandhi should have kept quiet. The one-time Congress loyalist and senior minister has written his memoirs in which there are some unsavoury references to the Congress party chief. Irrespective of whether he wrote it out of bitterness (he was made to leave after the oil scam), it would be quite a natural thing for him to talk about his tenure in the government, and it might include his perspective on the people he was interacting with.

Sonia Gandhi told reporters in Parliament:

"I will write my own book and then everyone will come to know everything... the only way truth will come out is if I write. I am serious about it and I will be writing."

This is disturbing. It assumes that her truth is truer. Just as there are people who will not buy all of Natwar Singh's 'truth', there will be others who would question her version. The one incident that seems to have had an impact is that she refused the prime ministerial position not because of the "inner voice", the touted reason, but because Rahul Gandhi gave her 24 hours to refuse because he thought she too might be killed like his father Rajiv Gandhi was.

To any observer, both seem relevant. A son wanting to protect his mother is a most natural emotion, and a woman cast as an outsider might realise that this space has its own niche and abjure overt power. A good sixth sense, or inner voice, has saved many.

She is a politically pragmatic person. As I wrote in The Accidental Prima Donna:

While her slain husband and two children were hesitant to enter the fray, Sonia Gandhi was never a reluctant politician. Her refusal to be the prime minister was also a political act that stood her in good stead. Indians connect emotionally with detachment. She came across as one not ambitious for herself.

Therefore, the Natwar natter would have just fallen by the wayside had she not responded. Now, people with some sense will expect a sanitised book from her. They will read it, but might doubt its veracity even more. For, if he is a "bitter man", then she is a defensive woman. Such statements make it only worse:

"I can't be hurt (by revelations), I have seen my mother-in-law riddled with bullets, my husband dead...I am far from getting hurt with these things. Let them continue to do this, it will not affect me... They can continue to do this if they so please."

By saying this she has exposed her hurt more sharply. Which secure person would in a flash decide to write a book to clarify their own position? And why is former PM Manmohan Singh saying, "Private conversations should not be made public for capital gains"? An expensive book in English reaches a limited number of people.

Dr. Singh probably does not like the fact that he is portrayed as someone who had no real power, and all files went to Ms. Gandhi. In retirement he would want to salvage his reputation. Circumspection is a good thing, but responding to the rash isn't particularly circumspect.

The Congress Party members will all huddle together anyway, and certainly not protest against their leader only because she listened to her son. If anything, they will see him as someone who has real influence on her and is therefore the leader they believed he ought to be.

Natwar Singh quit the party only in 2008; he was forced to resign in 2005 for the Iraqi food-for-oil scam. This itself is revealing. If he was bitter, why did he not leave the party immediately or prove his innocence then, as he claims now?

It would take naïveté of some kind to blindly fall for his interpretation, especially if he comes up with statements like these:

"No Indian would treat a man who was loyal to family for 45 years who had been very close to her and 30 years older. .... It is just not done in India. There is a part (of Sonia) which is ruthless."

And further:

Asked if that was her Italian part, he shot back, asking what else can it be adding, "some part of it is not India. Jawarlal Nehru, Indira Gandhi, Rajiv Gandhi would not be like that".

He is sounding like a political rookie, treating this as some sort of soap opera. By emphasising his loyalty he is inadvertently justifying her arrogance that he seems to have issues with. The India of his imagination is certainly not real. Age is not respected even in everyday social situations; in this case it was professional. His insistence on making it unprofessional is grating and obsequious, for ultimately he is holding a candle for most of the Nehru-Gandhi family even if it means ignoring their ruthlessness.

Natwar Singh also needs a quick visit to Italy to discover how they uphold family values. Or he can just get DVDs of 'The Godfather' series. The Italian mafia too respected the unit. In Don Corleone's words: "A man who doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man."


© Farzana Versey

I no knot what to do...

"You know nothing about the business of writing," he told me.

Then came the details. How to get off. Get it off. Take off. Take it off. Book launches. Public relations. Publishers and their demands. Reviewers and their demands. Readers and their demands. The format. The cover. The pages. The typeface. The people to meet.

"What's happening with your book?" I asked him.

"I don't know."

I returned to my soggy half-finished sentence and patted it dry.

© Farzana Versey

Land and religion: Bangladesh's fight

What started as protest against the grabbing of ten acres of land has become a sinister plot that includes accusations of blasphemy. I got to know writer-activist Salam Azad about six years ago (a reference to it is here). Today, his life is in danger as fundamentalist forces issue death threats. His crime? He wants the property of the Hindus returned to them.

“People of the locality started a movement to recover the land back and build a hospital and girls school in the Hindu owned vested land. Very few people are concerned about the plight of the Hindus. Slowly and naturally the people of locality placed me in the leadership of the movement. I told the local people, at first, we save the three Hindu temples and then recover the land they agreed with me. The movement still continues. This effort to save the Hindu Minority interest is not of interest to the average, aloof middle-class and fundamentalists. Meanwhile Mr Nuh-ul Alam Lenin, is former pro-Moscow communist and presently Publicity Secretary of Bangladesh Awami Legue Lenin, supposed to be a moderate, is hand in glove with Fundamentalists. On 22nd of June 2012 in Sreenagar stadium, about 50,000 fundamentalists gathered demanding vociferously to hang me. Some even went to my village home (village Damla, Police Station: Sreenagar, District: Munshigonj) and attacked my paternal home. It is very painful and horrific for me and my family.”

What is surprising is that in March 2010 he was shortlisted to be Dhaka’s deputy high commissioner in Kolkata. But Muslim leaders in West Bengal wrote to Bangladesh Prime Minister Khaleda Zia not to send him because of his controversial writings, indirectly alluding to Taslima Nasreen. So, clearly he was not considered unwanted by the political elite and was not averse to a political role.


His book of fiction, Bhanga Math (Broken Temple), was banned by the Bangladesh Government on July18, 2004. However, as he states, “There was no other charge, like Blasphemy against me.”

Now, the ghost of this banned book is revisiting him. Two cases were filed in June, including an arrest warrant issued based on his “slanderous” references in 2004. No mention was made at the time. For commercial gain some vile forces are using religion. Land grab is riding on charges of Blasphemy. His situation reveals how monetary gain surpasses everything else.

“The citizens in a Secular Democracy do not have the faint idea how dangerous it is to live in a fundamentalist place with the charge of Blasphemy, hanging over the neck. The Government also tries not to displease the radical elements, unless that is absolutely necessary for their own interest.”

The death threats continue. The police have the numbers of the culprits, but have done nothing, provided him with no security till date. “I am in a dangerous situation and need protection.”

He has not sought attention for his banned book or his contribution to the minorities. He was accustomed to opposition, but after living a few years in exile he returned home. A home that apparently cannot shelter him.


Another encounter

“Where are our guns?” asked the 20-something. I don’t meet Bangladeshis too often, but whenever I have there has never been such a vociferous reaction. His father worked in the corporate sector, but scepticism about the lifestyle and youthful rebellion made him run away from home. He writes occasionally for the Bangla papers.

Although I have earlier written about India’s stand on Bangladesh (The Bangladesh India Forgot), the man born much after the 1971 War has inherited anger that we refuse to believe. I tried playing devil’s advocate: “But did not India help the Mukti Bahini?”

“We are thankful for the help. But when Indians say that Pakistanis ran away, then who took away our guns, our gold? We were left with nothing…”

“Are you saying India looted Bangladesh?”

“It is still looting. Bangladesh has rich natural resources. Burma and India have easy access, and India knows what is where.”

“And no one can control it?”

“We have fighting inside. I am concerned about our wealth. So many families lost their means of livelihood. I ask the elders and they are silent. How can guns disappear? Where are the records?”

“Aren’t you more concerned about the way things are now?”

“It is because of what has happened. Now extremists are taking over or people are looting us, destroying our land.”

He hates the Saudis and he hates Indians. He feels nothing for Pakistan. He is not a Muslim.

The conversation left me with mixed feelings – a minority in a land that needed a language, but who thought that both RabindranathTagore and Kazi Nazrul Islam, contemporaries and poets that bound India and Bangladesh, were a waste of time and taught nothing about “how to live”. He did not speak about being a Hindu. He spoke as a Bangladeshi who will one day return home. A home without gold and lost guns.

(c) Farzana Versey

Nehru, Ambedkar and a Cartoon

Cartoon controversies have a way of becoming jokes themselves. The latest is in a textbook by the NCERT (National Council of Educational Research and Training). The government is trapped. Here is why.

As you can see, Dr. B.R.Ambedkar is sitting on a snail. Jawaharlal Nehru, the prime minister then, is standing with a whip. Apparently, there is accompanying text in the book that blames Ambedkar for the slow pace of the Constitution that he formulated.

There has been the usual house adjourning, shouting, resignations, apologies. Do we need a committee inquiring into this, or do we need a full-fledged ministry?

There are people who think we lack a sense of humour. I think we lack a sense of proportion. I do not like this cartoon.

NDTV reports:

Sketched by renowned cartoonist Shankar in the 1960s, the cartoon has been part of the NCERT book since 2006. Today, MPs waved copies of the cartoon in Parliament and said it insulted both leaders.

Did Shankar sketch this in the 60s? If so, the Constitution was well in place before that. (It transpires that it appeared in his weekly in 1949, which seems more appropriate.) The problem is not with the Constitution, but the execution of what it lays down. Therefore, this is an insult of the Constitution. It is rather amusing to see a crowd of ordinary folks smiling broadly at this display of Nehruvian aggression. The cartoon insults them, too, for it assumes that they the lowly who will get their rights only when things are whipped into shape. There is no concern for dignity of the human being.

Does it insult both leaders? I’d say it backfires on Nehru. He looks more like a horse attendant, than a trainer. Besides, standing behind with a whip, there appears to be an element of Brutus back-stabbing. Ambedkar remains a jockey steadfastly steering.

I’d definitely see it as misconstruing history, although young people these days have access to other avenues of information and such cartoons and derogatory references do not tarnish the work done by people like Ambedkar. Note: I use the term work and not image.

The politicisation has predictably taken on a high caste vs. Dalits hue. It will fall flat. Mayawati has just been exposed for her indulgences, spending Rs 86 crore on renovating her house. Despite rising to power, and I do commend her for managing it against odds irrespective of her personal whims, she has shown scant regard for the Constitution. She has misused Ambedkar’s name for personal glory and treated his persona as her personal fiefdom.

Our political leaders should have found other ways to deal with it. But, no. This is the age of shoo-shaa as we say. Waving copies of it only drew attention to something that most of us would not have noticed. Now, sides will be taken. As I said, the controversies become the jokes.

Modi reads from The Satanic Verses

...and the Anna-fication of a literature festival

Narendra Modi realised that all his efforts for the Sadbhavna mission fast were not going as great as expected. He had planned it meticulously, but he chose the wrong venue. Godhra. Wrong timing: a month before 10th anniversary of the train burning. No mention of the riots. He wants Muslims to forget that. He wants to mend fences. Nice guy.

This was about peace and harmony. 1600 cops and 5 specially-trained Chetak commandos and unarmed jawans guarding the place. Peace? Peace is based on trust, and he says that there have been no riots. So, what is he afraid of? I get it. He is afraid of Salman Rushdie. What if that bloke who is not permitted to visit the Jaipur Literature Festival decides to land in Gujarat? After all, Narendra bhai has been promoting it as the wonderful Disneyland where you may scream in terror as long as you can afford the rides. Modi likes Rushdie. He does not know why, but maybe it’s the old if A=B and B=C, then A=C.

Yet, for all his liking, he did not want to spoil the Jumma party. He waited and waited for some real Muslims to pay their respects. Finally, he just gave up. Peace can go take a long walk. He asked his men to get a copy of The Satanic Verses. He was going to protest against these Muslims. Those Deoband guys who did not treat his progressive Gujarati fellow nicely when he was made Vice Chancellor and that SIMI is really awful going after poor Salman. No one cares for freedom of expression.

“But, saab,” said his favourite police officer who was transferred for giving signals for an encounter killing, but had now undergone cosmetic surgery and was back at duty, “We took down posters, we threw out artists…”

“Bhai, jo, that is different. We are the establishment. Establishment has right to protect minorities.”

“Er…we are the majority.”

“That’s okay. I am not counting. We must feel like the minority.”

“So, what to do now, sir?”

“Bring me that book. I have many copies in that underground place where I keep all those files about 2002.”

“The book is banned in India.”

“We are not India. I mean, Gujarat has 5 crore people, so we are India within India.”

“This could cause communal enmity, saab.”

Modi guffaws. “This is the land of communal enmity. If you add tadka to cooking oil it will splutter but you get good food. Go, get me a copy. Cover it with green cloth.”

The man leaves hurriedly. A few mullahs come and shake hands with Modi. He says, “You are late.”

“We went to buy you a special edition of the Quran to promote this wonderful multicultural system you started.”

“Time is over for peace.”

“You are insulting Islam by not accepting a copy. Last time you did not accept skull cap.”

“You people’s sentiments get hurt all the time. But you cannot reach on time. I had arranged for your bath here.”

“Kya?”

“For your namaaz, I made arrangements for you.”

“Wazoo…it is called wazoo.”

“Don’t try and convert me.”

“We are only informing you.”

“Why you did not inform me about Godhra train?”

There is silence.

“Okay,” Modi continued. “If you want harmony, go and sit quietly.”

His officer brings him a copy of the Rushdie book.

The mullahs smile when they see the green cover. “Subhan Allah! You are our supreme leader. We knew you had a surprise for us. We will pass a fatwa against anyone who does not vote for you.”

Modi whispers in his officer’s ear, “How did they know I am trying to conduct a counter election campaign to get some mileage because everyone is talking about UP?”

“The Deoband must have informed them.”

“This is same group that does not want Rushdie, na? Now see how papers will be full of Gujarat.”

He opens the book and starts reading. The group says, “Wah, wah” in unison.

Modi is confused. “You know what I am reading?”

“Ji haan. You have a sense of humour. You are reading Gulliver’s Travels.”

“What is that?”

“In the madrassa some boys have copies, they told us about how he lands in place where tiny people are and they tie him up.”

“So, why are you smiling? Now where is your Islam? It does not get insulted if book is covered in green?”

“The grass is also green and we walk on it, Khomeini saab.”

“I am not Khomeini,” Modi says disgustedly.

“Uff, mistake. Please continue reading, we are your prajaa, the little people.”

The CM shifts uncomfortably. The thought that he would be tied up by these little people worries him.

“How did these illiterates start reading books?” he asks his assistant.

“Because of Rushdie.”

“Does it mean if I read this book, I will become Muslim?”

“Saab, anything is possible. But don’t say this loudly. They will call it Islamophobia.”

“Take this away.” He returns the copy of The Satanic Verses. “Bring me some other book. These Muslims like stories. Even for peace mission, they want stories. It is always about god.”

The officer gets an idea. “I will get The God of Small Things.”

Modi shakes his head. “What things? These minorities will start thinking their god is the best again.”

“This is not about god.” The officer mentions the writer’s name.

“Arre, the same one who went jogging with comrades in Cuba?”

“Not jogging, only walking. Not Cuba, in India with Maoists.”

“Then send copy to Chidambaram.”

“What do get for you now?”

“Aladdin and the Magic Lamp. Muslims like fairytales. They think by rubbing a lamp, a genie will appear. They forget this is idol worship.”

“I cannot get it, sir.”

“Why? Is it banned?”

“No, your copy has disappeared.”

“How?”

“Sanjiv Bhat took it as evidence that you were plotting against minorities.”

“What happens to my freedom of expression?” This time he asks aloud.

The audience looks wide-eyed.

“Say something.”

“We thought you are reading from the book.”

“No. I want to know. Why can I not express myself however I want?”

The crowd starts to leave. He calls out to them.

A small voice says, “How can ashes answer what freedom the fire must have?”

- - -

Reports say that today, the opening day of the Jaipur Literature Festival, some writers read out excerpts from The Satanic Verses, since Salman Rushdie is not allowed. This personality cult is seen as protest.

Was Rushdie going to read out from the book? A bunch of huddled up elites in their cocoon thinks this is freedom of expression. Would they have permitted Modi to read, had he written a book? Who are they catering to? A small group, and that includes the media, that knows precious little about such expression, that muzzles dissenting voices, that sells its space without ethics for ad revenue, that pushes political agendas, that also pushes religious ideas; this applies to publications in regional languages as well. It is, however, the English-language media that plays god. We have discussed this already in Salman's Atheist Shrine.

These interests sponsor the JLF and grabbing eyeballs is part of the strategy of making it commercially viable. If they have some enthusiastic pseudo martyrs, they will benefit. Incidentally, Taslima Nasreen and Arundhati Roy, both ‘victims’, have not been vocal about this. Taslima had a fight with Rushdie about Twitter followers and his misogyny. Roy has got to guard her Muslim constituency. Everyone is on their own trip.

This reminds me of Team Anna and the singing-dancing brigade exercising their freedom. Rushdie had attended the previous festivals, so cut it out. If it is so important, then I would like to know why the writers have not sent a petition to the government asking it in clear terms to arrest those who issued threats. Do that. Exercise your freedom, instead of sticking out your tongue.

The festival is already overcrowded. If this were a movie, it would have been all about buttered popcorn.

(c) Farzana Versey
- - -

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Modi’s fast ‘unto’ death: Gujarat’s shame

Character Assassination

Due to the untimely demise of one of my characters, I was in mourning and could therefore not submit the story on time.

This is a real note I sent years ago. A colleague had entered my name for a short story competition by the British Council. I was not terribly enthusiastic about such events, but since it required imagining, it was par for the course. I thought nothing about it and since I was not accustomed to writing for a reason, I wove the words at a leisurely pace.

A tap on my shoulder and a thick envelope served as reminders that I paid no attention to. The date of submission was gone. I folded the sheets of paper and put them in the envelope – the address and stamps were ready. My friends were still enthusiastic. I quickly grabbed a page from my diary and wrote down the note:

“Due to the untimely demise of one of my characters I was in mourning and could therefore not submit the story on time.”

What else could I say? I am not good with formal letters. Besides, it was succinct and happened to be the truth. The cat in the story had died. Obviously, I had killed it. Yet, its death was a departure, a turning point.

Recently, an Indian media house gave an award to a novel and the jury used a curious phrase for its choice: one of the reasons was “for its non-judgmental attitude to the characters”. How does a writer not judge a character when s/he has created it? This is not immaculate conception. You sweat over it, love it and get suffused in it, for however brief a time. The judgement lies in the nature of the relationship. The writer is the initiator and woos the character. It is possible that the character might mirror the writer. Introspection is also judgement. You are pronouncing a verdict on your thoughts and feelings.

Any objectivity would be forced. The character is because you are.

Back to my old story, I had written it for myself. In those days, there was no audience I was seeking or speaking to.

A few days later, rather uncharacteristically, I got a note from the British Council. It said, and I will rely on memory and promise not to exaggerate, that indeed I had missed the date of submission and rules would not permit my work for consideration. However, my accompanying note was rather interesting and caused much amusement and they could not but let me know that although the story would not be included in the competition, it was noticed.

I wondered whether dead cats could lick the cream.

Who moved my 'journalistic space'? The Age of Twitter Set-ups

Why the hell is ‘journalistic space’* being taken over by micro-blogging? Why is it that when one person breaks wind there, a whole bunch of people queue up outside the loo?

Hmm…I had just finished my morning adulations, and ignoring the Toffee-nose of India (TOI), I went to the stapled sister. I like Mumbai Mirror. I like mirrors. Now, in the midst of all the light frothy gossipy stuff it mentioned a “corruscating review” about a recently-published “social Bible”. It did not specify whether it was the Nobu or the Antillia version.

What follows here is a reaction to the responses to the riposte to the review and the rejoinders to the remnants that remain of the righteous rumblings.

Since those who do not read my blog are not acquainted with those who do not read everything else, I will have to introduce the characters that are not there and what they did not do.

An author Soul Setter, henceforth referred to as Setter because I want to sound like a Goan, wrote a book, a social Bible, if you must, called 'Getting To the Top of ITC’s Everest in a Chartered Plane: Ten Rules for Being Moses'. The Setter has friends and clients. That is his business – to make clients feel like friends and friends become clients.

It is simple enough. Learn to get all the Gifts of the Magi without being Christ. Or, if the atheists prefer, how to lay eggs without being a hen.

A lot of people might have bought Setter’s book because they were friends and clients and wanted to read about how they were making people.

Then, what is the problem? Setter is popular among the television channels and is always on panel discussions. He is a marketing guy and many of the big companies would like to see him talk about the state of the nation while he is selling their soap suds and hotels.

According to my sources – okay page 2 of the paper – the Setter read that “corruscating review” and went into “an indignant, inelegant splutter”. Fine, the couple of examples I read weren’t exactly nice, but then wasn’t the review “corruscating”? Setter was blinded. Hurt. Setter could not control. Setter blurted out: “So @me-churma (name changed) reviewed my book for a magazine no one reads. Am not surprised! He is supposedly an unemployed economist for an unread mag!”

What followed is truly weird. A news magazine that we read for taped conversations, excerpts from the editor’s book (oh, no, will leave that for now), and four-page essays by Oliver Twist asking for more Mao jumped into the buzz. It went full-throttle into an excavation expedition and besides Shivaji’s personally autographed copy of Adil Shah's memoirs, they found tweets from the time of the Cripps Mission. Standing apart were those about the Setter controversy. It turns out that a month before the “corruscating review” appeared, Setter had praised the magazine – let us call it Craven – addressing its senior editor with the shining words: “and by the way I love the way your magazine CRAVEN is doing in the journalistic space*…super stuff…” (italics mine)

This should tell us that Setter is a bit displaced. He needs to shout, as he has done by typing the name of the mag in all-caps. However, I do not see any disparity in the two comments. He loves (or loved) the magazine in a confined space to which he supposedly has access (remember the chartered plane and all?). He is telling us that not everyone has that access. “No one reads” clearly means he is not No One; he is Someone. He is also hoping it goes unread. This is Setter Subconscious. The personal attack on the reviewer is because he assumed a slight directed towards him.

I have not read the book (extracts, yes), but did go through the review. It seemed like the reviewer went into the deep dark woods to figure out a bonsai plant.

The problem for people like us is that everyday we find little bon mots, and not all by bon vivants, which Setter claims to be, and we often do not know the context. Recently I came upon some exchange between the Diva and other divas about maids. Suddenly, out of nowhere, another best-sailing author’s name cropped up. Let us call him Chattan Bang. It transpires that he was being sarcastically awarded something for watching films with his maids.

Now, Chattan really likes films and his latest watch is The Dirty Picture: “The movie breaks so many new grounds, and opens the door for Indian biopics.”

If it is breaking so many new grounds, where will there be place for doors?

He is so taken up that he even gets patriotic: “Few Indians make me proud of being Indian. Vidya Balan is one. She isn't just an actor, she is an artist. Superb performance.”

I am told the boobs and midriff prosthetics are not made in India.

Then, this: “If a dog keeps on barking your name, he makes you famous. The dog, however, remains a dog.”

And the bark remains a bark, no?

Unless you have a dog named Google, like Setter does, who can find the doggie doo even in coruscating darkness.

What the Dickens

 Should an unfinished novel by a writer whose works have a special stamp be completed and adapted for the stage? How can anyone complete Charles Dickens’ novel? It is an adaptation for the stage, but will it then go without an ending?

Between now and 140 years ago when he died, people have apparently been curious as to how “half the psychological thriller” he wrote might have ended. In this time, I doubt if it was curiosity that killed those that passed on. Besides, on what basis is it assumed that The Mystery Of Edwin Drood was half finished? At 23 chapters, it might have been almost towards the end, or maybe it was intended for the long haul and had only just warmed up, slowly.

BBC Two has entrusted the drama to Gwyneth Hughes. She said: “The tragedy of the erotically obsessed cathedral choirmaster, John Jasper, throbs with sexual menace, murder and opium addiction. But alongside his story runs a brilliant small-town social comedy which is often laugh-out-loud funny. After all, this is Dickens, the great emotional extremist, and master of the rollercoaster ride. It’s just the most enormous fun.”

Jasper falls in love with his nephew Drood’s 17-year-old betrothed, Rosa Bud. A small portion from the last written chapter may give some peek into the story:

That he must know of Rosa's abrupt departure, and that he must divine its cause, was not to be doubted. Did he suppose that he had terrified her into silence? or did he suppose that she had imparted to any one - to Mr. Crisparkle himself, for instance - the 
particulars of his last interview with her? Mr. Crisparkle could not determine this in his mind. He could not but admit, however, as a just man, that it was not, of itself, a crime to fall in love with Rosa, any more than it was a crime to offer to set love above revenge.

As subjects go, this is as relevant today. Emotions are not dinosaurs, although there can be half-finished emotions that remain on the cusp and wait to be realised. While Hughes is not working on the novel, the act of giving it a finale when there was none is a bit disconcerting. It is like adding icing to a half-baked cake. Theatrically, even a chapter can be staged, but one would be aware of the work in its entirety.

Would this qualify as an adaptation of Dickens? Then, on what basis is the end assumed? We are talking not only about one form as opposed to another but also about one writing against another. We are not talking about assembly-line Mills & Boon or, for that matter, the James Bond franchise. When I see a film based on a Jane Austen novel or watch a play by Tennessee Williams, it is the authorial voice that comes through. Despite several innovative interpretations of Shakespeare, the core of the bard seeps through the props, the characters and the sheer power of language, however much it might be ‘simplified’, or indeed made pretentiously complex.

Dickens had said all those years ago: “The whole difference between construction and creation is exactly this: that a thing constructed can only be loved after it is constructed; but a thing created is loved before it exists.”

This is a cogent thought and might well apply to the current situation. However, I’d like to examine the two terms outside the context. The BBC is in the business of construction (rather peculiarly it has described the work as “a strange, disturbing and modern tale about drugs, stalking and darkness visible”). The raw material is there, but the blueprint is not unfinished. It builds the skeleton of a structure, start piling on the bricks and mortar, adds the plumbing, the wires, but the last few floors – let us assume the penthouse or boutique apartments – have no design. Being in the construction business it will follow the module of the lower floors. Or will it experiment and give them a special touch? Can one architect replicate another’s unspelt-out ideas?

When Dickens talks about love for the creation before, it is as conceiver. The creative process is ongoing and the creation itself grows over a period of time. Does the love for it and of it alter too? Does the pre-emptive love negate the very creativity, in that it falters? Is it weighed down by the fact of how the constructed work will ensure love?

With some writers, the love is in the lines. And that includes the fine lines on the face of a work. It is completion.

Indira Gandhi Booked

The history of the Congress party being written by a group of people from within the fold is like the skin covering the flesh. But, as expected it has got politicians to react.

This is supposed to be some sort of commemorative effort because of the completion of the party’s 125 years.

The Congress’s history, written by a group of experts, has blamed Indira Gandhi’s policies for the party’s collapse in the Hindi heartland, including its stronghold of Uttar Pradesh, triggering surprise among leaders about the growing tolerance in the party over an alternate viewpoint.

Rubbish. This is not an alternative viewpoint but passing the buck. It is edited by Pranab Mukherjee, who is an acolyte of Manmohan Singh, who in turn is an obedient student of Sonia Gandhi, who in turn has to think of Rahul Gandhi, who in turn has failed to do much in UP, which in turn is the big trophy for any political party and had the whole thali of vote banks – Muslim, Brahmin, Dalit, farmer, zamindar, gun culture, culture and some of the most power-hungry people ever in this country sitting in positions of office.

I doubt if all those who are barfing now have read the book. The Congress probably leaked out the juicy bits about the Emergency, which no one can do anything about instead of more current and relevant issues. Of course, it is history and history will mention such events. I would like to read about the anti-Sikh riots and see whether they have shown up those characters who continued to hold office until recently. I want to know if Rajiv Gandhi’s comment after his mother’s assassination is mentioned. I want to know if Rajiv-Longowal pact is mentioned. I want to know if the role of India with regard to the LTTE is mentioned.

The Congress does not even know who the writer is. At least that is what cross-over politician V.C.Shukla said.

“There are only views and thoughts of some leaders in the book. Actually, Indiraji had done a good job in her tenure.”

Great. Indira Gandhi gets a certificate from the man who was a Sanjay Gandhi loyalist, then stayed on to get the goodies, left a while ago to join the BJP and is now back in the Congress.

The BJP has its own take on the book:

“The party is personality dominated and there are differences on every issue. Whether it is the Maoist issue or other ones, the party lacks unanimity on issues.”

Yes. Now tell us why did Sushma Swaraj and Nitin Gadkari squabble yesterday? What were the dynamics in the relationship between L.K.Advani and A.B.Vajpayee? Why does the BJP play one game and let the RSS act as its boss?

This is just a book. If only all political parties would reveal what is between the lines of their own chapters and verses.

The Interview

I was on the other side, being interviewed. It wasn’t the first time but I constantly found myself asking the questions inside my head. It’s part of the experiences I have had. So, before I get to me, I shall get to them.

How does it feel to get into the mind of someone, I am often asked. The answer is always: Challenging. Almost all of my one-on-one interviews have been rather intense. It is two people in a room, not unlike the relationship between a psychiatrist and a ‘patient’, except that the roles can and do get swapped. It is amazing how much you discover about yourself in the very nature of the queries you pose. Even after all these years, I like to have some questions ready; there on I take off from the response I get.

Then, a Pandora’s Box opens, and the treasures could be precious memories, newly-formed opinions, or skeletons, and there have been occasions when the person has broken down or felt elated or got angry because what had remained submerged suddenly spurted out. The catharsis was not expected. I still recall this woman quite literally jumping on the sofa I was sitting on, her rage barely contained. It was a large house filled with antiques. Should I leave or leave her alone? The answer came in the form of tears - mine. I sat there, plunging my nails into the upholstery. She had calmed down and reapplied her makeup. There was a smile on her lips and her long fingers touched my hand.

One thing I know. If you are not honest, you won’t get honesty. It may sound strange but I have met honest politicians, or at least whatever was discussed was done so honestly. Recently, I had to make a sort of list of the interviews I have done and the range includes industrialists, gangsters, people from films, academics, science, sports, activism, feminism, theatre, writing, media, astrology, psychology, sexology, religion. These are what may be called ‘names’ in their respective fields, but there have been very many others who were interviewed on themes. It could be a story on beggars or eunuchs or nuns. (Me: “Sister, what do you fantasise about?”)

How much of oneself enters into the subject’s voice? It depends on how the interview has progressed. I do not buy into the theory that one must not express an opinion in an interview. I spend a minimum of an hour and besides the words recorded there are the background sounds and images and my own voice.

“I was looking for your voice,” said a writer-colleague about my book. “It was there throughout but I found it most evident in the section with interviews.”

“But, they were speaking.”

“Your questions were what created this chain and sometimes you’d just move on, almost impatient!”

It was a perceptive observation and quite true.

So five months ago, in October, when I got a call from Khaleej Times (UAE) asking for an interview, I did not at the time know anything about the media there. “Why,” I asked.

“Because of your book.”

“That’s been around for a while,” I said.

“Yes, but it will be interesting for our readers and we will also talk about the other issues you write about.”

She told me she had been “warned” that I was very particular about whether she had really read any of the stuff and promised me that she had and will read more before we met.

I walked into the hotel lobby where we were to meet. My foot was recovering from a fracture so it was in a stopgap air cast. I would have been easily identifiable although the white slacks did cover the pumpkin green cast. No, she did not spot me. I just went up to the lone young woman sitting there in a hijaab. We moved to the coffee shop and the first thing she said was, “I was told you are a veteran.”

“Hmm, well, yes, I guess so…”

“You don’t look…” and the thought trailed off.

I told a media friend from that part of the world about it and asked how one was supposed to look like a veteran and why did I not, and he was quite exasperated, “A normal person would take this as a compliment.”

The interviewer was honest. I could sense it. There were questions about inspiration, the book, my political views, the process of writing, and some fun queries. It went on for over an hour. I did not want a photographer around. Now, I don’t have a portfolio and I took a few self-timer pictures. It shows.

I got a small shock when I saw the paper (it was in the main section and not the supplement and was duly announced in an earlier page). The low-resolution image had been blown up. I immediately knew what had happened. It helps being a ‘veteran’. Most of the quotes had not been carried and it must have been a last-minute decision. People who know informed me that my views are not always ‘proper’, so they had to temper it. Why could they not use a long blurb, instead? It was also referred to as a new book, but again my friend said, “Some people think Anna Karenina is a new book.”

The problem is that if you have been an interviewer for long, you do tend to be understanding: People at the desk only know that chop means chop from anywhere, including have an abrupt end without any context. I was particularly distressed about discovering that I do not read. I do not read maniacally other people's views on the subject I am working on. It does interfere.

This is one more aspect to note. I research a person only to an extent that I know the background or the specific topic of expertise. In my case, I have already spoken quite a bit, written a lot, there are reviews, so rather unfortunately a good deal of that seeped in and the interviewer’s fresh queries and my replies went wasted, except about how the book happened which I have not spoken about yet. Heck, she should have asked me about favourite fragrances or something and there would be more words rather than the grainy picture.

But you know what? Most people don’t care for what you say or how you think. For them a big picture is the big picture. So, text messages were exchanged about how I was in the news. I found it embarrassing, which is why I held back until now. Because now I can see the humour when an acquaintance who does not have any interest in writers or writings had held the paper against the lamp in a Chinese restaurant and said, “Man, I did not know you had been mainlining. You look like you’ve been out of rehab.”

“Hrmph, so has Lindsay Lohan. And I am a veteran.”

- - -

The interview is uploaded on 'A Journey Interrupted blog' here.

Yes, there is a scanned image and I have never mainlined or mainstreamed for that matter!

Business is now comic-al

“Why?” was my first instinct. Why and how can business books adapt into comics? Then it struck me that with the graphic novel gaining currency – fiction has always been considered the hallmark of imagination – showing a ‘How To’ series should be a more natural progression.

The little I have seen of graphic novels, too, does not intrude into the manner in which words are used. It is just a different way of seeing. Being personally more inclined to imagery and metaphor, the idea of a pictorial depiction may take away from the reader’s way of looking at the work. But then, if the work is different from one’s ‘area’ in a manner, then the graphics add rather than take away from what is being conveyed. It is like watching clouds and then you see flashes of the sky that has already been ‘painted’. It gives a different dimension to how we watch the cumulus disperse or words tumble.

Non-fiction of a certain kind lends itself wonderfully to such pictorial depiction. As a report states:

SmarterComics is to produce a line of comic books based on bestselling business, motivational and personal self-help titles. Among the titles coming out next month in graphic novel form are personal motivator Larry Winget's business bestseller 'Stop Whining & Get a Life', sales and marketing guru Tom Hopkins' 'How to Master the Art of Selling', performance psychologist John Eliot's 'Overachievement' and technology magazine Wired's editor-in-chief Chris Anderson's 'The Long Tail: Why the Future of Business Is Selling Less of More'.

I do not read self-help books (ah, whining gives me a chance to dine and wine and, occasionally, shine), but it is a huge market and there could well be titles that I would find cumbersome to read because it just isn’t my territory but would like to know about. Of course, there is pretty much everything available on the Net, yet I would be curious about how a book like I’m Ok, You're Ok would translate in images. It is such a psychological journey and it just so happened that at around the same time I was reading Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman, which I think would be an absolute delight as a comic book. I do tend to visualise and even imagine while reading non-fiction, the drier it is the more vividly I think about the characters or ‘players’ or ‘scenes’.

Unfortunately, the publisher’s targets are the “Twitter and Facebook generations” for whom the books will be “lively, visually appealing comics, for a generation of readers who want valuable information in easy to understand bits”.

I think there is no specific generation anymore on social networking sites and the need for valuable information and easy to understand bits need not be seen as dumbing down. Serious issues can be dumbed down, poetry can be dumbed down in the manner in which they are interpreted. It would be quite educative if instead of drab graphs one can watch the more complex works made accessible, rather than easy. And the difference lies in placing before us a well-laid out meal and spoon-feeding.

Even at the most basic level, if the works reach a wider readership, there would be some who might want to explore it in greater detail.

To give another example, I discovered many old folktales in their pure forms after reading comics.

Long before Indian television gave us garish images of mythological caricatures, there was the Amar Chitra Katha series of comics. As a comic book aficionado, I admit that except for the Panchtantra series, there was not much that kept me regaled. It was a simple and simplistic rendition, but so are most text books. However, what these books did was to make children conscious of our epics. Anant Pai, the founder, writer, illustrator kept at it till his death recently, because he noticed that youngsters knew more about the Greeks than Lord Rama. Of course, he did not realise that this would become a household name for entirely different reasons.

From mythology he ventured into stories of real people, the heroes. Again, I can well imagine how much more wonderful it must be to read these with quote bubbles and loud drawings for a mind that is transfixed by butterflies and in a hurry to chase them.

One should hope children grow up and grown ups can retain a wide-eyed wonder.

Blank Sex

After five minutes of deep contemplation, I am ready with my book 'What Every Woman Thinks About Apart From Sex'. It will have blank pages to convey that no one knows what a woman is thinking of, even regarding sex. Of course, to make sure that I am taken seriously I will refer to the ‘painstaking research’ that went into the effort.

Will it be a bestseller?

If my luck is as good as Sheridan Simove’s, then yes. The Oxford graduate’s work 'What Every Man Thinks About Apart From Sex' has raced ahead of Harry Potter and Dan Brown. It is listed at number 744 on Amazon. The 200 blank pager that is supposed to suggest the answer to his thesis is “nothing” is sheer gimmick and one is surprised at the stupidity of the ‘readers’ as well as, I am afraid, the ‘writer’. You might say that a man who has such entrepreneurial skills cannot be stupid. It depends on how we define entrepreneurs and stupidity.

He explains:

“This book is the result of 39 years of painstaking research and practical study into the subject. I left nothing to chance and really threw myself into my work. After many years of hard work I finally realised that men think of absolutely nothing apart from sex. It was a shocking conclusion and I realised that the world needed to be informed of my findings.”

Huh? He is 39, so has he been studying and practising this even while he was burping out baby vomit?

For years different studies have been telling us that men think about sex every two seconds or whatever. What sort of hard work did such discovery involve? Did he speak to men from different cultures and spheres of life? What did he notice when men were performing other tasks – did they get moony-eyed or cast lustful glances or went all the way and got spasmodic? What exactly constitutes ‘thinking’? Did professionals doing their jobs imagine sexual imagery in their work areas – like cardiologists saw a hole in the heart and the mechanical engineer looked for the right lubricating agent?

Students in Britain are happily shelling out £4.69 for the book. It has become a “craze”, but they are taking lecture notes on those blank pages. Any person who feels it is “gratifying to see my book outselling many other academic works whose authors claim to have worked even harder than I to break new ground and further the extent of human knowledge” would pause and question his posture. Not so, Sheridan:

“I never anticipated that my book would be used for students to take their lecture notes in. In a sense they are proving me wrong by filling my book with content. But I wonder how many of them go back to thinking about sex once the lecture is over. I’d be willing to bet that answer is 100%. In fact I would go even further and estimate that 99% are thinking about sex even during the lecture. They probably think using my book as a notepad will help them get laid. And they are of course totally correct in that hypothesis.”

This is the sit-down version of stand-up comic stuff. He is so obsessed with the idea of thinking about sex and his now-popular ratings that he imagines the use of his work as a notebook will help the students to get laid. He has threatened to write a similar book about women, but as of now he knows precious little. Women do not get excited seeing men/boys reading books on sex, especially if they are empty. Women don’t like vacuums or the vacuous.

And guys may think of sex often, but they grow up and find it sexier to hit the ball or the competitor harder. Now if only Sheridan had tied his labour of lust with a nice leather whip then both men and women might have had something to do besides taking notes on calculus.

Why I did not become PM

Too many daily soaps or soap in the eyes?

Does Sonia Gandhi, as reports suggest, have to write a whole book to tell us why she refused the prime minister’s post? One sentence should suffice: “Jab my thee-whee deck-na chhaatee hu toe moo-jay remote khan-troll haat my chhaayiye.” (When I want to watch TV, I need the remote control in my hand.)

Or, another one, paraphrasing a song: "Moo-jay kootch bee na chhaayiye, moo-jay mey-re haat may remote dey do." (I want nothing, just hand me the remote)

George WMD Bush

"The reality was that I had sent US troops into combat based in large part on intelligence that proved false…No one was more shocked or angry than I was when we didn't find the weapons. I had a sickening feeling every time I thought about it, I still do.”

– George Bush

This might be a politically-motivated comment, but surely we cannot ignore its ramifications. The US troops were not sent into combat because Iraq was not fighting America. They were sent to combat a figment of imagination that purportedly claimed ot be ‘intelligence’. He sent out the army, he says, based in large part due to this information. What happened later? Why were the troops not removed? Why was Saddam Hussein done away with? It was not to restore democracy in Iraq. The WMD issue and the state of the population’s aspirations are different. Iraqis did not ask the US to save them.

George Bush had a sickening feeling – when? Immediately on not discovering and for not discovering the weapons? Or was it much later when he lost power? Or is it now when he needs to reassert his position to nullify the Bush in Clinton clothing, Barack Obama? Or is it, once again the old ruse, to help sell his memoirs?

Has anyone pulled up the intelligence agencies? And the world is supposed to not only look up to but trust what they 'suspect' happens in places they might never have heard of before. This is the former US President saying he acted on misinofmration. Can you imagine how many countries would be taken for a ride by such callousness and ignorance?

Blaring isn't quite tony

Muaah, I am a yankee poodle

Tony Blair is the sort of guy you would take home to your pet orangutan provided your pet orangutan is upto it. Yes, of course, I refer to the former British prime minister’s confession to being an animal in bed. One marvels at his ability to keep 10 Going Down Street in fine fettle, and we shall refer to his beastly instincts in a bit.

First, his memoirs are called ‘A Journey’, and without reading it I have formed a fair opinion since it has been publicised a good deal.

It has, like most books these days, to do with publicity. In fact, he has written a six-page introduction for his transatlantic readers that says:

“The book, in many ways, is a story about America as well as, evidently, a history of my time as British PM.”

This reveals how he seems to have meshed the roles of PM with that of keeper of America’s political policies. He even audaciously writes about the US:

“Mere mortals are still inspired by a certain awe.”

I understand awe; people do admire characteristics of nations and societies and even some leaders. But, what does being mere mortals have to do with it? Are the US and its leadership god, whatever is the herd or individual definition of such a god? It is ironical, then, that the qualities he admires are based entirely on practical considerations:

“These Americans can be smart – really, really clever. Homely, folksy, in certain aspects disarmingly simple: but don’t let any of that fool you. Underneath all the pop culture, old-fashioned courtesy, Disney, McDonald’s and the rest of it, there beats a brain.”

Pop culture and the rest arise from a canny mental ability as does consumerism. You don’t get apple pie only because your heart beats for it.

“I have come to love America and what it stands for. The essential values it embodies are so much more fundamental to our fortune than even Americans themselves may appreciate. America is great for a reason. It is looked up to, despite all the criticism, for a reason. There is a nobility in the American character that has been developed over the centuries.”

Fine. If he is talking about values embodied in the Constitution; if he is talking about the everyday American. But can character be generalised? What have the British learned from the Americans? What nobility is he talking about and what centuries? It would seem he is talking about some ancient civilisation that has fought off several conquests by outside forces.

It is clear that he is not referring to the America of the people but of the politicians.

On George Bush: “The stupidest misconception was that he was stupid…He also had – has – great intuition.”

On Barack Obama: “The personal character is clear: this is a man with steel in every part of him.”


On Bill Clinton: “an extraordinary mixture of easygoing charm and ferocious intellectual capacity. Probably . . . he is the most formidable politician I ever met.”

Blair comes up with an smart analysis of the Monica Lewinsky affair. As stated in a report:

He says Mr Clinton had a curiosity in people. With men, this would result in friendship, he says, while with women there was a sexual dimension. “In this, I doubt that he is so very different from most of the male population.”

Right. This ignores the fact that the curious men are with women who might be curious themselves. They do not get the same respect in society or by the likes of Blair. He justifies Clinton’s lies as “not wanting to embarrass his family”.

Do families not understand curiosity? And it is precious that while he accepts with equanimity the affair of his minister Blunkett, he dismisses the scandal to his choice of the “wrong woman”. She was married. A woman’s marriage is a problem with this curiosity business, it would seem.

Tony Blair has had a rather interesting recollection of when he tried to rid himself of anxiety when faced with a leadership battle. I don’t know whether it is wife Cherie or his opponent Gordon Brown who can take credit for this!

“That night she cradled me in her arms and soothed me; told me what I needed to be told; strengthened me; made me feel that what I was about to do was right... On that night of the 12th May, 1994, I needed that love Cherie gave me, selfishly.

“I devoured it to give me strength, I was an animal following my instinct, knowing I would need every of emotional power and resilience to cope with what lay ahead. I was exhilarated, afraid and determined in roughly equal quantities.”

If there is a potent connection between sex and politics, then this is it. More importantly, Blair has done it with tremendous delicacy. Selfishness and instinct are married rather well. It is also a great analogy for the survival need that regresses to evolve to withering heights.

A seatful for a million dollars

There is literary merit in the fact that J D Salinger’s toilet seat is up for auction. Think about the ideas many creative people say they get when they are digesting more than thoughts. Is there any truth in this phenomenon?

As a somewhat creative person, I do come up with the most imaginative description of post culinary indulgences while responding to pathology tests. One doctor even guessed I was a writer based on the poetic justice I did to what appeared to be a drab report that exposed me not only to amoebae and bacteria but also to a future reader.

Given this little episode in the nascent stages when my literary yearnings got a boost, I can conjecture with a degree of certitude that it has to do with the seating arrangement.

It is said that Rodin’s The Thinker is in such an inspired pose. With feet on the ground, while the left side of the brain is occupied in logical activity, the pressure reaches the right side and sparks off the dance of the cerebrum. There is also the psychological fact that something is leaving you; although the departure is welcome in this case, it harks back to a past. This becomes the manure to fill the fertile soil of the future. The mind suddenly has ideas and on occasion they could be psychedelic. It is quite akin to a state of deliriousness as closure is being reached.

The difference between a scientist and an artiste is that the former can soak in a bath tub, think up something and run out stark naked screaming ‘Eureka’ because he has a hypothesis; the latter, due to the peculiar task at hand cannot leave until it is over and therefore there is time to ruminate and think it through. You can later always say that you were preoccupied with your Muse.

- - -

“I'm the most terrific liar you ever saw in your life. It's awful. If I'm on my way to the store to buy a magazine, even, and somebody asks me where I'm going, I'm liable to say I'm going to the opera. It's terrible.”

(Holden Caulfield in Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye)

Bared? Marilyn, Oprah, Sunanda…

I do not know which of these ‘outings’ is the worst.

THIS:

Fans of Marilyn Monroe will be able to bid for an intimate snap of the star at an upcoming auction. An xray of the stars chest is set to go under the hammer. The medical photograph was taken at a Florida hospital in 1954 when the actress was being treated for endometriosis. The x-ray shows Monroe’s ribs as well as the outline of her famed cleavage.

I would understand a dress from some film, a personal belonging. This has become quite the norm for the public that seeks such vicarious thrills. But the woman was ill, for god’s sake, and it is an x ray. Isn’t there any shame left? And, why is there a mention of her cleavage. This is beyond disgusting.

OR THIS:

Oprah Winfrey has repeatedly lied about her upbringing and made up stories about sexual abuse to boost her reputation, claims biographer Kitty Kelley in her new book. Where Oprah got that nonsense about growing up in filth I have no idea, the New York Post quoted Winfrey’s cousin Katherine Carr Ester as saying in the book. I’ve confronted her and asked, why do you tell such lies ... Oprah told me that’s what people want to hear, the truth is boring.

Kitty Kelly has her kitty full of tell-all tales. I have my reservations about Oprah’s modus operandi that caters to the most basic instinct – voyeurism. It has often been camouflaged as catharsis, but you can see right through the tears, which often reveal that some of it has been staged. She is also her best subject, using everything from her weight to her money. Just as well. However, I can understand exaggeration as a possibility, but to make up stories of sexual abuse, especially as a child, somehow seems unlikely. If it is true, then it is cruel. Cruel to the telly-viewing world that trusts her implicitly, cruel to herself for needing such a ruse. Also, I’d like to know a bit more about this high moral ground adopted by her cousin. How much was she paid for telling this 'truth'? If she knew about it and felt so strongly, why was she silent all this time? There are hundreds of tabloids and channels waiting for such exposes.

OR THIS:

Sunanda Pushkar's face recently launched a thousand IPL controversies. However, if you've had enough of it, you could try an older variation. The one you've been spotting these days is only a new and improved version. City sources say that the woman, who is in the eye of the Modi-Tharoor storm, had a nose job done by a leading Mumbai-based cosmetic surgeon ten years ago. Sources said that Pushkar also had two other fat reduction surgeries before the nose job.

(Latest reports say she has withdrawn her stake in the IPL.)

Take her to task for the franchise deal, but this is low. The Medical Council should take note of the plastic surgeon Dr Ashok Gupta for revealing these details. It goes against the ethics of his profession. Incidentally, Mumbai Mirror that carried the story showed the before and after pictures and amazingly in all of them the lady is wearing the same lipstick. Is it her fealty towards a certain shade or is someone tampering?

Besides this, it might help if those who socialise with bottle blondes stopped mentioning this aspect of her. It is amusing to see the ladies who lunch get all concerned about power women, which of course Sunanda is not because she has not yet had a chance to appear on Page 3. She is an insult, apparently. She is telling us what to think about Tharoor. How dare she? Phew. People who opine about piffle should not be wondering about how her opinion does not count.

- - -

The sainted and the tainted - Lalit Modi with the Dalai Lama:

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A Little Birdie Told me

That albatross round your neck is a loyal dog, but adultery rules in the avian kingdom. Bird-watching has got a fresh connotation in an upcoming book The Bird Detective by Bridget Stutchbury.

This might not have ruffled my human feathers at all for the simple reason that the concept of institutionalising relationships is the trait of homosapiens and the world of fauna is fairly liberal, if we see this as one aspect of liberalism, and not tied down by any moralistic constraints. It is true that birds too try their best to attract the opposite sex; they too cohabit like good people of religion for mainly procreative purposes, although their faith rises when the heat in their bodies does; they like building nests, laying eggs, taking care of their young. But we also don’t expect them to be steadfast since no one is going to sit in judgment and shame them.

Therefore, I do not understand the purpose behind such a book venture and, more importantly, the findings. Take this one example:

The book shows male Acadian flycatchers fertilizing females far away from their home nests, and female blue headed vireos premeditating divorce by checking out new mates before they abandon their young.

The main discovery is that so many birds do divorce for what humans would describe as selfish reasons, Stutchbury said, noting that females may seek out males that are more colourful and better singers, or look to step up in the world and move to areas that are safer and have more food.

How can the word divorce be used here? Abandonment, yes. Multiple partners, fine. Glad eye, okay. Selfishness, true. How do birds divorce? Does the erring partner make it clear that s/he is quitting the home-nest? Is there an understanding about territory? Who gets custody of the children? Now, in this respect there are anyway fairly clear ideas regarding who does what that Discovery Channel tells us.

From the little bit that one has read, it seems the females are really on top. Some choose the rakes; others the security. And they plan their moves.

99 per cent of the flamingoes have broken marriages and the wandering albatross merely wanders and returns to the spouse.

I don’t think I will be able to look at any of the birds in the same manner. I know there is a crow that keeps staring at me while I write. He perches himself on the cable wire outside my window and looks. I blush sometimes, but all along I thought he was being a moral support. Or that parrot that occasionally sits on the kitchen window sill? Does she want a bite or does she want me to help her out of a sticky situation? There is a kite that appears rarely. Now I know why. Fidelity is not on the cards. As for the pigeon, I can hear him moaning and groaning and I get irritable or listen quietly depending on my frame of mind. Now I wonder whether he was in desperate need of counselling.

And for those whose cuisine includes fowl, have we ever thought that the bird must have been suicidal anyway after Monsieur Cock gave Madame Hen the documents to undo their ‘I do’?

I am warming up to the author’s effort. I think it should qualify as chick lit!

Was it bad for you?

What exactly is bad sex writing? Is it having bad sex while writing? Or is it bad to write about sex…cluck, cluck? Of course, all of you know about the Literary Review’s Bad Sex in Fiction Award. Many really good writers have ‘won’ it. No one has ever thought about giving a good sex in fiction award, it must therefore follow that it’s all just bad. The worse and the worst do not count. Just bad is good enough.

Auberon Waugh, the English writer, must have been reading something on a grey dry day, which is really about unrealised possibilities in case you have missed the metaphor, and decided to set up this award. I believe it was to “draw attention to the crude, tasteless, often perfunctory use of redundant passages of sexual description in the modern novel, and to discourage it”.

Those who are subtle would not really indulge in such careless passages, and if they do then perhaps they genuinely mean to be crude, tasteless and perfunctory. The modern novel, as opposed to classics (or is it conservative?), does use sexual descriptions. It might be redundant to certain readers and the only thing worth reading to others.

As a teenager my female friends would be given books by the boys that had specifically marked out portions of writing from the point of view of hormones. It worked as a learning experience as well as succeeded in conveying the intent of the one rewarding them with these precious jewels.

I say 'them' because I did not read those books, and when on occasion I was asked to “at least try” I took it up with the assiduousness of an experiment, looking for syntax where I ought to have been examining the possibilities of sin.

This year’s shortlist includes Philip Roth for something he has written in his latest book The Humbling – “the story of the seduction of a ‘full breasted’ lesbian by an ageing stage actor. The novel includes a threesome scene and has several references to a green-coloured sex toy”.

I am a bit perturbed by this. It suggests that lesbians may not be full-breasted and if they are their seduction is wont to take place only by ageing stage actors. Has the threesome scene been written from the point of view of one individual or all three? Would Roth manage a balanced perspective giving three sides of the sex coin, the third being upright and poised to roll?


Use of sex toys is fairly common among the living, so I assume characters in fiction might emulate real people. I am confused about the green colour, though. Is Al Gore still at it? Green is also associated with Martians, which again expresses that it could be an out-of-world experience. All good. However, since men are supposed to be from Mars, then political correctness would unfold its wrath on Roth for assuming that women cannot really enjoy such blissful moments on their own. Green is also the colour of nature, at least when it is not autumn in some parts of the world. To refer to nature and toy in the same breath is to take the breath out of nature.

The passage, however, does not have those twists and turns:

“There was something primitive about it now, this woman-on-woman violence, as though in the room filled with shadows, Pegeen were a magical composite of shaman, acrobat, and animal. It was as if she were wearing a mask on her genitals, a weird totem mask, that made her into what she was not and was not supposed to be.”

Paul Theroux’s attempt in A Dead Hand has also been nominated:

“Her hands were all over me, four hands it seemed, or more than four, and as she touched she made me weightless, lifting me off the table in a prolonged ritual of levitation.”

What does all this convey? I know it isn’t quite easy to write about how characters one has created would behave in bed. But authors do base personalities on people they know or read about. And they do have the power of imagination.


Now, what happens to the much-touted Kama Sutra, the ancient Indian manual on sex? It was written by the celibate sage Vatsyayana. It is considered a path-breaking work, and I suspect it has to do with it being an old text and less due to its inherent practical merits. Take this passage:

When a woman, having placed one of her feet on the foot of her lover, and the other on one of his thighs, passes one of her arms round his back, and the other on his shoulders, makes slightly the sounds of singing and cooing, and wishes, as it were, to climb up him in order to have a kiss, it is called an embrace like the 'climbing of a tree'.

Why would a woman stand on a man’s foot and place the other one on his thighs? Were all women way shorter than the men? And why must she sing and coo all to get a little hug?

Don’t ask questions. Visit any bookstore and this volume is around. Everyone has heard about this book.

The point is: Do readers give a damn? As Roth himself had once said, “When you publish a book, it's the world's book. The world edits it.”

Therefore, it depends on us. The bad sex is in our heads.

Om's Ardh Satya - a story of half truths?

Is this latest story salacious because of what it is or how it has been portrayed? Is it about the man or other people’s perspective?

Sensationalism is not to be condoned, but Om Puri does not sound particularly sensible when he lambasts his wife who has written his biography on one day and apologises the next – both publicly. So, if she gave a TV interview and responded to queries about his sexual experiences, he compounded the damage by clarifying in the newspapers. I have not watched her interview, but I read his views.

From the reader’s point of view he is, for the purpose of the book Unlikely Hero: The Story Of Om Puri, a subject. We might care that his wife has penned it only to the extent that it may have added dimensions of familiarity, although it is not essential.

There are some disturbing aspects to the way he has conveyed his anger and his regret within the span of one day. The few details so far mention his sexual encounter with his 55-year-old maid Santi at the age of 14; then followed a long affair with a woman for 14 years. Here is what he said about his wife and some more:

I was shocked by her revelations. It was so cheap. She was talking about my sexual encounters as though those were my biggest achievements!

In the interview, from the way he talks it appears as though he is more concerned about his reputation and he does mention it. It is like pointing towards a wart and saying, ‘do you think this is my face’? Even those who would not notice or comment on it will be drawn towards it.

Mahatma Gandhi spoke of his experiences with sexuality in The Story of My Experiments With Truth. But was that all there was to his life. I had hoped when my life was chronicled it would be an inspirational story.

We don’t know what has been highlighted and from her account the book is about the actor and the man. And while one appreciates that he had to collect money on the train and wear borrowed clothes, the fact is that he got to the Film Institute. Not many destitutes do. Also, this is the story about so many people in the film industry itself. Some have died in penury. And some made it due to talent or luck. After all, even Akshay Kumar was a chef. As for Gandhiji, he did not have problems marketing his experiments, in fact they may not be all he did but they have come to represent what he did not do!

Om’s wife says:

Om has all the human foibles, just like all of us. He had sex as an adolescent with his maid and then he had a long liaison with the other lady who was also a maid. This was his way of coming out of his other relationships and demolishing class differences. If Om has any objection to her being called a maid he’s just being unrealistic.

Demolishing class differences? Yech. What the heck is this? One would take issue with her over this, but listen to Om’s version:

This lady whom Nandita talks in such an undignified manner was Laxmi, who raised me and my brother’s orphaned children. My relationship with this wonderful woman was a homage to her loyalty for looking after me unconditionally. But it was not a furtive and sleazy experience. It was beautiful. Why make such a tamasha out of these very sensitive moments…

What is this – some sexual asylum? He was paying homage? Why did he not just go ahead and erect a statue or name a tulsi plant after her? Has anyone bothered to even ask what happened to the first maid? I was shocked to read that he is worried that now he’ll be compared to actor Shiney Ahuja (accused of raping his maid). This is sick. It is okay to do it but not be outed for it only because of a case in the news? His attitude of paying homage makes one wonder whether he was as sensitised as a teenager, and if so what did he do?

He is upset that his wife did not show him the manuscript. She did not have to. When he is with her, is he acting? No, right? He knew she was writing his story and he talks about sharing these details with her. It would be silly for him to expect her to only talk about train rides and torn chappals. Yesterday he accused her of sensationalism and today he is apologising:

“My anger should have been projected at the publishers for trying to pre-sell my wife’s book by leaking out only the sexual episodes. My story doesn’t need this kind of publicity.”

As a matter of fact, it does. Most books do. Whether it is Naipaul or Nehru, a slightly sexual angle makes it more attractive, especially when the image is different or a public mask has to be worn.

The publishers will leak out these bits because it won’t be terribly interesting to know immediately how he prepared for the role of the cop in Ardh Satya, the film that truly gave him that push. He has spoken several times about his stint in Hollywood long before the mainstream actors did.

Had the affair been with someone from the same profession or a prominent lady – and don’t tell us there weren’t any – would he have been less virulent? Is he being protective about Laxmi? Then, why would he not be protective about a big name? Can’t such women be vulnerable, especially since time has passed and they may be leading their own lives?

His public apology is an about-turn since his wife has been getting calls and his son is “under scrutiny”:

I’m not in Mumbai to protect them from the damage I’ve caused. I can’t sleep or focus on my work. I don’t want our child to suffer for the mistakes I have made. I therefore sincerely apologise to my wife and to my son for being so rash.

If he had a real problem he could have taken a flight from Chandigarh where he is shooting. It takes two hours to reach Mumbai, and he could have consoled to his wife, called up the person who interviewed her, talked to the publishers. That would not help the book, for people know him and not his wife.

Just when I was to out this up, there is another story a few hours ago in which he praises his wife and her work:

The book is a tribute to my friends, my colleagues, my mentors and the women in my life. I am proud of my story, my childhood and my journey and I see it as an inspirational story for millions of Indians.

Did he not say he had not seen even a page of the book? The tamasha has not only been created but recreated by him publicly. Or was it the publisher’s idea?

Well, shall I just call this my homage to Om Puri’s fine talent?

“The greatest homage we can pay to truth is to use it.”
- Ralph Waldo Emerson