Sunday ka Funda

Of Garbages and Kings: LBT

I called up the provision store to check if they will renew their strike tomorrow against the Local Body Tax. “We'll know by this evening." I decided to order a few things. Last week, many of us were caught unawares. There was some talk about LBT, but as it was restricted to Maharashtra and was not about FDI or any global issue, it did not make major news.

The traders were willing to take the losses to fight one more burden of tax. As one of them told DNA, “Everyone is aware that the more the number of tax-collecting government departments, the more the corruption. So now, with the introduction of LBT, most traders will end up giving indirect bribe to one more babu."

Who benefitted from the strike? The big players - malls. Reports mentioned the surge of footfalls in the supermarkets. Even those who are not regular supermarket shoppers might now be enticed into 'everything under one roof', where the trolley is an empowering force, and the sight of other shoppers with goods laden atop one another creates a subconscious demand.

The independent stores had understood this even before the strike. For example, I have several choices within just five minutes from where I live. My regular store walla knows it. His clientele is eclectic - from some famous names to the clerk in an office, and everyone in-between. He is a call away, and if the bags are heavy, one can trust the delivery guy to enter the house and deposit the goods.

What is his USP? Customer service. He has not yet tarted up his shop, for most people rely on home delivery. The daughter of an expat friend who visited recently was shocked when she discovered that some of her friends here could also get toilet paper at their doorstep. This is truly Mumbai where the consumer is king.

If the shop does not have something, he knows I'll call up someone else. So, he says, "I'll get it." It could be ice-cream, talcum powder, or fruits. He has never added a markup or service charge for any of these.

There was a bit of romanticisation of 'kirana' stores when the FDI discussion came up. That was just a reaction, for no one calls them kiranas anymore. The owners are mostly third generation slick guys, and in some cases women, who are computer savvy, and don't sit behind a cash counter all day. They are on the go, interested in trying to procure new goods, figuring out the new tastes that people are experimenting with.

One does not have to go to a speciality bakery to get multigrain bread or a variety of cheeses. The fancy organic outlets charge you for walking on granite tiles, but I can get my Indian diet bhel and homemade soya sticks instead of some Polish cracker that has the details of the packaging in Arabic! I can even return open packets, unlike some posh nature shops.

And the guy remembers exactly what our orders are like. So, if I say tissues, he knows which brand.

Last week, in an ironical twist, I ran out of garbage bags. According to the rules in my part of the city, the municipal truck comes every morning and all the waste should be in black bags. The person who regularly cleans the stairways and compound of the building collects it. This has made life infinitely easier for those who earlier had to take the waste bins and topple the contents into a huge drum-like container. Some people would not even care to put a lid on their garbage and it would spill over, only for the 'safai karmacharis' to have to manually pick it all up. The bags are infinitely more humane.

This digression is to highlight garbage. A strike will not stop people from generating waste — we eat, throw out old packages, bottles. Also, think about the wastage in the stores. What we read in the newspapers are huge numbers of so many crores lost in business (it also means loss to the government in prevalent taxes). But food grains and perishable dairy products and the like would need to be discarded.

Maharashtra is going through a drought and this seems like travesty. What about the poor who depend on rationed grains, oil, kerosene, sugar?

The government thinks that traders don't show their true sales figures. Traders say the government wants just more under-the-table money. It is likely that since traders operate on a cash basis, there could be some hidden assets, but most packaged goods anyway are sold at MRP rates. The traders have got their benefits, much like doctors/chemists get from pharmaceutical companies, prior to selling.

Some might think this is an elitist attitude. I am conscious of it, but that does not negate genuine concern. In fact, it made me aware that there is something called a handkerchief, which I had forgotten about due to my dependence on tissues. And for all the noise against plastic bags (quite legitimate given how people dispose them carelessly) the big one was cut at the top and fit in quite nicely into the garbage bin.

As I write this, I have not yet checked whether the strike will not begin again tomorrow. Why did they take a break? Because of Akshaya Trithi - an auspicious day in the Hindu calendar. There were ads in the papers enticing people to buy precious jewellery without any down payment.

If only the clerk and the domestic help could buy essentials in this manner.

© Farzana Versey

Where are the sparrows?

It is easy to run down television, but aren't we overdoing its impact on children?

Does it convey a dumbing down if children between three and four can recall names of brands and TV channels, but do not recognise a sparrow?

TOI reporting on the survey conducted by Podar Institute across a few schools in Mumbai started with this statement:

“Parents often pride themselves on their children’s skills but a recent survey might leave many embarrassed."

Many parents these days push their children on TV reality shows. One might question some of them, and even the intent to be in the public eye, but it is essentially to showcase the talent they think their kids possess.

Before such shows, children invariably were asked to perform before visitors - “Beta, recite that poem...show aunty that dance...tell uncle how you will save your sister with karate chops..." (How many children are asked to show skills in mathematics or history?) TV shows have given a wider platform to these same performances. While I do get pretty disgusted watching people so young make adult moves, tell off-colour jokes, is it not a fact that in real life this would be seen as 'older than her/his age'?

The survey sample was 2000 — 500 each from the 3/4 year and fe/male gender bracket. It also concentrated on a fairly uniform socio-economic background. The director of the institute observed:

“Children learn many things from watching television, especially commercials. Brands are not something parents or schools teach, but kids automatically absorb the information because it comes from a very colourful medium.”

I would extend the argument to iconic people and events as brands. The images of Gandhi are 'colourful' — his clothes, glasses, spinning wheel, and his quick gait. I recall a cousin dressing up as Tagore for a fancy dress competition and another as Indira Gandhi, much as one sees them on some reality shows. What, then, makes the latter bad? Some kids talk about events, and although I vehemently oppose children being used to make a point about religion or terrorism, one may surmise that they are not unaware of things around them.

The absorption is based on observation. If 85 per cent could name brands of chocolate, is it only due to the onslaught of televised images? There is no doubt that a story related to the product makes it easy to remember, but what child of an earlier generation would not tell you about the same, and even of other products? Perhaps, if a survey was conducted in those days, the results may not have been too different. I clearly recall Kiss Me toffees and Cadbury's.

90% could identity fast-food joints and names of powdered energy drinks. Is it because of the electronic media or more access? More families are eating out and the family dinner is about where to eat as much as what to eat. Energy drinks on TV work in tandem with how parents force them down kids. Again, Bournvita, Horlick's and Ovaltine have always been used to lure children to have milk.

The input has a lot to do with availability. Tigers are exotic, so everyone was aware about them. The reason probably only 20% could recognise sparrows is because they are not as visible as they used to be. This is borne out by the fact that crows scored better with 70%.

This same principal applies to fruits. Kiwis, bananas, pears, pineapples were known; only 12% could spot chikoos.

There is too much concern about the influence of consumerism. Children do not think about that. If they’d see butterflies, they’d still chase them. If we want to give the butterfly a brand name and they recall that, it does not denude the wonder they feel for it.

© Farzana Versey

The Times...it isn't a-changin'...

Like most things in life, The Times of India has been a habit. It is easy to break, but I never felt the need to give it the 'kick'. There was a time, not too long ago, when it made one sound above it all to state that you read the paper because of R.K. Laxman's cartoons. It was a bit like some insisting they read Playboy for the articles.

TOI has completed 175 years. It talks about being young at heart. It has provided me enough boo-boos to pick on; it has educated me about society divas I did not know existed; it has reduced the sanctity of the masthead and of its front page by selling it to advertisers. The only thing that can be said is that it is upfront about it.

Going through today's edition from the archives I found some gems I'd like to share with some observations:

 

This was the front page on what was undoubtedly the most significant event after Partition. TOI even then loved showing off about being on top of the heap - just above the masthead. However, instead of its now cautious "allegedly", it mentioned in clear words that the assassin was a Maratha from Poona. It also gave Jinnah's words importance. But I doubt if it would really bother today if Czechoslovakia (new name notwithstanding) expressed regret.

I know there are many naysayers, but had India and Pakistan not continued to be so obsessed with each other as problems, outside forces would have just had to lay off. I find Jinnah's statement pragmatic.

The Emergency has only been spoken of as "the dark chapter" in India's history, mainly because of its clampdown on newspapers. If we think about it without 'freedom of speech' in mind, then just how many literate Indians were there that constituted the reading public affected by it? And Indira Gandhi was right in at least one fact - that India is one of the most relaxed in terms of freedom of expression. Of course, I do not condone the Emergency, but from this quote we can see that 'objectivity' is still not evident in the newspapers and now the electronic media. Reportage continues to tilt and have agendas.

TOI has started one more of its weird 'innovative' ways to separate news from opinion. All op-ed pieces have started to use the first person in small letters. It is not 'I', but 'i'.

i'm not not sure whether it is to convey that the writing is more important than the writer. That won't happen. The mugshot, the byline and bottomline (where you find new professions and of course "bestselling authors") remove all doubt that self-effacement is not in sight. 

Yet, as i said, the TOI tries to amuse whenever it can. Aren't we amused?

Quote uncoat

“Keep up with the Joneses”

This means you want what others have, and that is not good. Right?

Wrong.

There is an assumption that each thing on this planet is monogrammed for individual consumption and enjoyment. Since it is not, we have no choice but to keep up with the Joneses, the Janardhans and the Jaffers. Most objects are essentials; some are luxuries. To desire these only because somebody else has them is considered materialistic. But, think about it. What if you do not know of anybody who has them and still crave for them? Who are you then competing with? The Joneses inside you?

You go shopping and the person next to you at the counter has selected something nice. Suppose it is table linen. Her eye espied it first; perhaps you missed it. You might ask for a similar set. Are you keeping up with anyone? You like the look on a magazine cover and want it, if it means a lipstick or other cosmetics. Are you competing? The best way to judge how stupid this theory is to visit a sale that offers huge discounts. Then everyone is keeping up with the Joneses to just get hold of items that are close to reaching expiry date, are no more a fad, or, in the electronic world, have been replaced by upgraded versions.

The problem is that we only seem to notice the tangible. The assertion is restricted to what we can see. The ‘materialism’ of competing with thoughts – not in the sense of brainstorming or expanding on ideas – to spread one’s own wares is far more acquisitive. Intent is sometimes worse than action.

Also, one has to be rather insecure to believe that by keeping up with the Joneses you will lose yourself. It might happen if you strive to be a clone. I have several objects that many others do. It is how I use them that will tell me apart.

And to be honest, I do get a kick thinking that I too might be the Joneses that others breathlessly want to keep up with…

Tea from Ivy League

 

I like tea. So, when I heard that a Harvard Business School graduate decided to get into the tea business, I thought we were in for a true son-of-the-soil story. Oh, I forgot. I am a cynic. I am not supposed to like all this. There has to be a niggling thought.

Right. It is a bit more than niggling. People enter these top institutes and then decide to give it all up. It is rarely simple. I have met a few who did quit cushy jobs because of conviction. Amuleek Singh Bijral tries his hand at modesty:

“There are thousands of chai wallas in this country and I’m just one of them. The beverage that I sell has a history of three and a half thousand years. I have a technology background and I sell tea. People think it’s exotic and unconventional... I don’t.”

One, he was addressing students from the Indian Institute of Management and other biggie schools on the subject of “unconventional entrepreneurs”.

Two, he is the owner of Mountain Trail Foods and his Amuleek Chai Points have ten outlets all over Bangalore.

Three, if it is not all that exotic, then why does he bring in history? Do those thousands of chaiwallas think like him?

Among his staff are IIT and IIM graduates. This is just another business enterprise. As expected, there is a tendency to believe they are better and will offer something more:

“Chai is a global phenomenon. Everywhere I go I see people cribbing about lack of good tea. I wanted to do a scalable business and one that had a big market. Chai provided both.”

Everything has to be a phenomenon. Chai is part of the imbibing habits of people across the world, just as performing morning ablutions is. It does not become a global phenomenon. Indian tea has always been in demand – whether it is Darjeeling, Assam, or the green tea from Kashmir.

The problem with the unconventional entrepreneurs is that profit-making is the sole imperative, whatever else they may say. It is fine for their benefit, but this is one more attempt – and I am not singling out this gentleman – to create a different demand. It works in tandem with the multinational ethos.

How does it alter the social consumer landscape? It could take away the business from smaller companies and most certainly from the small chaiwallas. It will not be much different from the Baristas. You make it into a corporate culture and automatically it is seen as organised, clean, efficient and of superior quality. Add to this, the man is from Harvard, so he will be better at reading tea leaves. Crystal ball gazing is big business, isn’t it?

Imagine, the locals saying, “Brake-fast at Tea-fanny”…

On a personal note, I like tea in so many different ways. There is the green tea that has to just have a touch of the fragrance; a little more and it is not green anymore.

For regular tea, I do a yoyo between the wimpy version where the flavour is left to the imagination and the several types that hit you. We call the first light tea. Who can forget Farooque Sheikh’s character in the delectable Sai Paranjpye film Katha twirling the keychain and saying that he only drinks light tea? It was an indication of being westernised.

Brewed tea can be brewed delicately, with tea leaves added to boiling water and left for a couple of minutes. Or it can be introduced at the beginning and go on and on to become ‘kadak’ (strong). Most Indians like it this way. There are some who will have tea only ‘cooked’ in milk - the famous doodh patti chai. One can add saffron to it.

I love my masala chai. I don’t care about the travesty of it. Tea without a touch of ginger and cardamom may be pure, but I like to sin.

I believe that too is a global phenomenon…

Of Ads and Incomplete News

"The advertisements in a newspaper are more full knowledge in respect to what is going on in a state or community than the editorial columns are."

- Henry Ward Beecher

This is the front page of today's TOI. It is not the only paper that has sold its front page to an advertisement, but to permit its whole front page to be used in a quasi editorial format is a serious issue. The blank spaces in the real news items had the colour of the ad and the words repeated, "Anything incomplete can be a pain." The ad was for a mouthwash and conveys that toothpaste can only clean your mouth 25 per cent; for a full cleanup, you need Listerine.

If we accept such crass transposition of editorial and advertising space, then it is prudent to ask just how the message of the ad can resonate with editorial content. How complete can news be at any given time? Is, say, 'the process of dialogue continues' an incomplete idea and how must the news complete it? Does it have the right to do so? What about misleading headlines? The 25 per cent job done does not apply to news for there are versions of it.

This brings us to Beecher's quote. To an extent it is quite an accurate assessment. Editorial content can be biased; ads are not. They have only one agenda: to sell. Selling assumes buyers. In times of the right smile and the bright smile, teeth do make a statement. News often has bite, but no teeth.

The market economy - and tired as I am of the term one has to use it often these days - has made sure that we are dependent on products. Our purchasing habits and what we desire reveal the state of where society is headed. It isn't full knowledge, in that it does not quite adequately reveal culture, tradition and mindsets, but superficial mores.

Products like soaps tend to emphasise glamour, although now the trend is to use 'real' women endorsing some brands. I watch them and, to be honest, the real women don't appeal to me. Neither does the glamour factor. Am I the aberration? I experiment and try out several types. Where does that leave brand loyalty?

This is the crux. People are loyal to a product not because of advertising. We may try it once or twice, and as a junkie of the new I most certainly am the vulnerable segment. That apart, anything that can wash and clean and smells interesting is fine. Recently, I chanced upon an absolutely delightful soap that is not advertised. I picked it up because of its main content - lemongrass. I'd end up smelling like a Thai curry, but that fragrance works for me. It was only when I reached home and looked carefully at the packaging that I discovered it has an inbuilt loofah. Smart? Maybe. But I think a bath is incomplete without a loofah (when there is none around I use a dish-scrubber, and not the spongy side!) The soap one is nice and works just as well, but I also use my regular one. It's double the scrub and besides dead skin I might be killing some more. It is habit. This is beyond completion.

The reason for this personal digression is that 'knowledge' is not a word we can use loosely. By introducing a new product, advertising does work as 'news'. And news that is pushed is advertising. There are no demarcating lines, except those of ethics. It raises the question about how one defines ethics in the realm of hawking. Is it merely a matter of being a "pain" when it does not fill in the blanks? Or is the existence of the blanks a more honest take in that it empowers the reader to think and figure out the larger picture?

Such symbolism is beyond those busy selling their own mastheads, but as readers we know what we need to do. That 75 per cent that is not mentioned is better left unsaid. We'll manage on our own, thank you.

Tech that...

It’s maroon-coloured, slick and light. I’d lie down with it propped on my stomach like a baby as words would dribble out of its warm, white mouth. When it fell asleep, bubbles would appear on its chin and rise up to the cheeks. My little notebook with thousands of sentences spanning six months just gave up on me. I made the error of treating it like a big child, one who could take the knocks and could hit a mean punch. It obviously couldn’t; it was not born for that. It was meant to be coddled, taken in a perambulator, stuffed with a nipple in its mouth to keep it quiet and put gently to sleep to save on battery life.

I thought I was doing everything right, except that I did not treat it gently enough. It handled my jabs, my tears, my maniacal laughter, but that day it just curled up. I thought it was a petulant sulk and I poked it, tickled it…there was a gurgle, but no delight in the sound. A balloon came up: “Critical HDD error.” I did not know what HDD was. It sounded like an illness. I persevered. It rebooted many times and it was back again to nothing, although those bubbles did appear. I had not backed up the pictures, the documents, the notes…I did not know this would be over so soon, like a fling, a brief encounter. It did not appear to be this way. After all, it had been with me to protect me when I was laid up, it was there to make me not feel lost, to stand by me and renew me. But this was just another man pretending to be a child.

I should be crying. This is my work, my memories. And they are gone. For now, at least. I may never retrieve it all. But I am not crying, I am not even angry. For me this means taking more pictures, making more notes, finding newer words.

- - -

The dependence on technology frightens me. I have begun to make notes on my cellphone about every little thing. My calendar is full every day – to remind me to get what I have got, to make calls that I will not make, to sleep on time, to wake up, to read, to write…I have not yet posted one that reminds me to breathe.

It disgusts me, for I do have a keen memory. I can remember even what did not happen.

- - -

The other day I misplaced my credit card. The company said it was lost. Lost puts the onus on others; misplaced is about one’s own fault. What is the difference? There is a lost-and-found department, but not a misplaced-and-found department although in the latter case you are more likely to find it. So, I reported lost and all transactions were blocked.

Now began the problems. In order to make my life simple I had signed up for the automatic clearance of certain bills. Poof. Calls, text messages inundated me…the bills were boomeranging. My phone would be cut off. I did not bother, until it got serious. I find these cellphone companies quite funny. You have to go through the whole computerised crap till you reach your desired destination – ‘our executives are busy playing with the dog, your call is as important to us as canine biscuit, so please stay on the line’…then there will be this horribly happy tune playing and finally someone will come and announce who they are. I am unfailingly polite.

I say, “Hi, this is Cleopatra and I want to know where Egypt is”…well, you get the drift. I give them my name, my number, and whatever else they ask.

When I mention my problem, the person at the other end sounds as though a condolence is necessary. “Oh, ma’am, I am so sorry to hear about it.” Huh? Get to work, damn it.

“Can I put you on hold while I check?” Yes, please.

“Sorry to keep you on hold for so long,” says the bloke who has appeared within five seconds.

“So, what do I do now?”

“No problem, F,” (yes, they do get familiar sometimes), “Just log in to our website.”

“Just a minute. I am calling you, so you tell me what I can do.”

“You first pay at our billing centre or through online transaction or the phone, and then we will adjust the amount in the next cycle when your credit card accepts.”

“But my credit card company is ready for you.”

“Please discuss this personal matter with Mr. X who is in change of your account.”

“Is there a Mr X in charge?”

“Yes, yes, he will be happy to help.”

I dial Mr X who listens patiently. He is on the road so will solve the issue as soon as he gets to his office. “It’s all cool,” he says.

“Cool?” He really said it and told me not to worry since I am an old customer and have never reneged on any payment. I feel like a prison inmate who has been let out on bail.

Problem is almost getting solved. I send an email. One little glitch. I typed out my number wrong!

Poke, poke, poke. Little note. Reminder. Call hotline. Send email saying I am me, but my number does not have that particular digit, so do make the rectification. I am not paying for someone else.

- - -

The touch screen froze.

Obama's hawk policy in India

The most telling aspect of President Barack Obama's trip to India in early November is his planned visit to all the sites targeted in the Mumbai attacks of November 28, 2008. He will also stay at the Taj Hotel. Commentators have been quick to gloat that this move will corroborate American support to India's battle against terror.

This is the vile game the US is so adept at. Its one major encounter with terrorism has been transformed into a metaphor for world militancy. It is a myopic and inadequate example if we take note of the different kinds of terrorism being unleashed in various parts of the world, including by the American establishment under the garb of ‘support for democracy’. This has often translated in ruining thriving societies or pushing them into ‘backward’ mode as a reaction to the US standard McDonald idea of franchising its version of liberty.


-->More here at the Op-ed, Khaleej Times...

http://www.khaleejtimes.com/DisplayArticleNew.asp?xfile=/data/opinion/2010/October/opinion_October146.xml&section=opinion

How the media desecrates

We talk about desecration in such linear terms. It is only the vile people who do it, the intolerant bunch. The liberal media is rarely pulled up. Watch this:

We know some media houses have commercialised religion and festivals and taken over virtually every such space that is available. But, how can they use their front page to audaciously claim ‘The Times of India Presents’ and make Ganesha into a tacky film character? The insidious message of fighting evil is of course not to be missed, especially since the good lord is placed prominently in the foreground of the memorable monuments of November 26, 2008 attacks.

Interestingly, there is no rat as the deity’s mode of transport; instead, he is poised in the air, Hanuman-like, with a mace. While Ganesha is worshipped for auspicious beginnings and to remove obstacles, this sort of pugnacity is not quite in character. The ‘film’ is ‘coming soon at a mandal near you’. The fiction lies not in the mythology but the autosuggestion and the conniving method in the innocence of celebration.

To further whet the aggressive credo, there is competitiveness. The godly pantheon for all its variety does not clash. Here, one deity is clashing against himself by those who have created different versions of him. It is not about how spiritual the version is but how well-sculpted, how much money has been spent, how many devotees it can gather, and how many celebrities. God has not only become a commodity but a way to create fissures among people.

The poor man’s feast has now become a Page 3 phenomenon.

Am I not sexy enough for you?

I thought these long sessions, foreplay with words, the urgency to do something, shed inhibitions and garbs, the languorous moments with the seen and the unseen, as sentences were caressed and teased worked.

Not anymore. Blogging is passé. Emails are...oh, no...



A new study has found that brief is in. People want quickies.

Danah Boyd, a fellow at Harvard University’s Berkman Center for Internet and Society, said, “Remember when ‘You’ve got mail!’ used to produce a moment of enthusiasm and not dread? (Now) people focus on using them for what they’re good for and turning to other channels for more exciting things.”

What is more exciting about tweets? Or leaving messages on walls at Facebook or other social networking sites? Is communication about just leaving behind a toe-print and not a trail? Yet, it is these sites that have ‘followers’. What are they following?

I took a quick look and found that this is just a way to make an asinine comment and then scoot off. Substance is lacking. I can understand celebrities doing that; I can understand if it is used to direct people to something of import elsewhere that they themselves have contributed to. But this is just one more element of fan culture where anyone with an account can claim to have fans. It also ends up as a means to make visible that you have said something about someone, even if it is a one-liner, to seem important.

There could be a few who may be able to convey something, but even they know it is only an appetiser.

Another distressing aspect is that the study focused on the young. It assumes that sexiness is connected in some ways with youth, and that stops at 30. This is only encouraging an attitude that will push the idea and target youngsters who will become commercial puppets. Will they stop and listen? Will they want to explore ideas? Sharing only means files, vids, plans for da party and latest pix. (Incidentally, if all this is getting fast-paced and short, then why the need for larger electronic memories?)

Commercial enterprises are quick to catch on to trends and they will be thrown the bait of cosmetics, clothes, and culture as a quick fix. It will, I am afraid, also result in ‘moving on’ even in careers and relationships.

How does any of this become sexy?

Language as we know it and experiment with cannot become a harridan only because of some punks who don’t even use their fingers well, that is why they trip so often and miss the vowels to save space. It is like missing a moment and talking about the eternal. The eternal flush that skims over and never enters the pores to tickle the flesh of a thought that rises to meet a paragraph created for it.

Krishna and some innocence...

I can hear the drums. A bunch of young people will form a human pyramid and break a clay pot filled with curd and lots of money. Gods don’t come cheap anymore. The stakes are up. Because devotees are full of greed.

Today is Janmashtmi, the birth of Lord Krishna. As a young boy he survived attempts to kill him because of divine intervention. He was like most boys and was raised by a cowherd and his wife. That surrogate mother, in fact, was the principal influence on his life. Yashodha. He would rob the churned milk and return to her, his mouth speckled with white residue.

That made him human.

He was surrounded by gopis and would steal their clothes as they bathed in the river and demand more butter to return their garments. That butter did not add any cholesterol to his system nor lard to his girth. Krishna has always been pictorially depicted as lean, often playing the flute.

On Janmashtmi day, that human pyramid forming takes place. As a child I recall there used to be one right outside our building, in the lane. They used the window bars of an apartment to tie the rope from one end and the other end was secured in the building across. At the centre would be the pot. The fellows who climbed up were children of the labourers, tailors, maids, cooks, drivers in the locality. We would egg them on as they tripped. Finally, the smallest one would reach the top, break the handi and they’d share the money. It wasn’t much. Sometimes, they would come round offering us prasad (holy offerings). We took it without a care about how it was made and where.

Childhood hungers are different.

I would still look wide-eyed if everything had remained the same. But they don’t. Things change. We change. One transforming the other in a cycle that spins out of shape. Now those soiled and creased currency notes are replaced by money that can be in hundreds of thousands. The celebrations are held in designated areas sponsored by companies and attended by celebrities.

The pot is higher, many more tiers of people climbing and breaking limbs to reach it.

Yet, I keep my queries aside. For, it is only during these festivals that the poor become important. They are needed to fracture bones. To dance shamelessly in the streets. To stuff their faces with unhygienic colours. To get indelicately drunk. To snivel before the gods of today, Mammons in their limousines throwing big moolah to feel they have earned their place in heaven.

The gods have given up. Their myths that spoke of sagacity have been sold to the highest bidders. Their images come in forms that are ostentatious. Oh, I said, I would not raise a quizzical eyebrow, I said I won’t…

So, this morning I added an extra dollop of butter on toast in memory of the lord. The grease that stayed on my lips reflected a childhood I was born to lose.

- - -

Pop secularism?

Images:
Top - painting of Krishna and Mother by Raja Ravi Verma
Bottom - photograph in TOI

Beauty and the Beast of Consumerism

She exposed pink underwear worn under a short black leather kimono. Japan’s finalist for the Miss Universe, Emiri Miyasaka, caused a bit of a storm in the preliminaries. Is the reaction prudish? I think not.

I am often amused by how these beauty pageant winners are termed ambassadors of nations. We send a young woman from our country after she has won the title at home, she is trained and trimmed and pruned to fit into what is considered international requirements. Requirements for what?

We fall for this standardised idea of beauty, and these days of humaneness and larger concern for social development as well. Do we realise that for many it means altering their identity besides their bodies? What sort of independence is this that the woman becomes a puppet who has to learn to walk and talk in a particular manner? Where is the individuality? And on what grounds do they represent national culture?

The kimono has specific connotations to convey myriad values and nuances. The lady is made to wear a leather one – fine, and I can hear some people call this a feminist statement of power, as though horse or cow hide can make anyone powerful. It would make better sense if she just wore some leather thingie – what is this about pink panties showing through? It isn’t sexy. It does not convey beauty, feminity, class. It is indeed crass and appears more like an ‘oops, I forgot to button up’ moment.

There are bikini rounds where she can wear whatever she wants. There is no need to combine it with a kimono. Geishas wear kimonos and we know what their job is, but there is such subtlety and class in their demeanour.

This brings me to the Indian national dresses that get flaunted at such pageants. The traditional ghagra-choli (long skirt and blouse) have enough scope to show skin but how far can you go? The saree is considered one of the most sensual garments, but some film actresses and models tart it up wearing it so low that you fear it might fall; the graceful pallu (the loose end) instead of resting on the shoulder in a flowing manner is scrunched up like a snake so that the full impact of the washboard gym-toned – if not lipo-sucked – midriff hits you in the face. The cleavage is not a hint of promise, but thrusting of a Size A cup to tell the world you can fit into anything on a ramp where women are merely human mannequins and must draw attention to the clothes and not their bodies. Ironically, they have to abuse their bodies to reach this state of robotic perfection.

These are not ambassadors of our countries but just young women who are out to make it outside. Home is their last refuge. Many have to return and then they need to alter their identities and bodies again. Pump up the breasts, add some bulk to the hips, change your walk, change your talk. They want to be in the movies and Bollywood likes them to look like they can fill up the screen and pre-pubescent fantasies of mama’s boys.

Meanwhile, pageants have a whole lot of money riding on them and the women have to be what cosmetic companies and designers expect.

It is okay as long as it is a person’s choice and they represent themselves. I see no reason for them to be hailed as symbols of their countries.

Einstein's Tongue

He is a brand. He could stick anything out and it would sell. He chose his tongue. As tongues go, it is decent enough. Not too long, not too short, not dry, not slobbering. I wish the picture were in colour so I could ‘read’ it more clearly. The shade of the tongue tells you a lot. I wish I could see taste buds. Or little lines running across and meeting each other.

This tongue is political, though. Albert Einstein was not caught in a candid moment; he showed his tongue to photographers and later wrote that his gesture was aimed at all of humanity.

The tongue jutting out can be an apologetic gesture in some cultures or a cocking a snook in many. It is frisky and it aims at reducing others to blubbering idiots by playing a blubbering idiot.

That is why I like Einstein. It has nothing to do with his E=Eminem square or whatever. But why aim it at humanity? Humanity is about humanism. Humanism isn’t about the Red Scare or the McCarthy anti-Communist hearings of the 1950s, which he said was the reason he did what he did.

Old Albert, I think, was a smart fellow. He probably dropped a consonant while speaking or maybe found a button missing from a part of his clothing and in that ‘oops’ moment his tongue just pushed against his grimacing lips and hung there, desolate and wet. He had to do something about it, so he went into those explanations.

It really does not matter. Someone paid $74,324 to get a signed picture of him.


"Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe." - Einstein

These are a few of my favourite things?

There was this questionnaire from a serious source. They thought I was a serious client and they wanted my feedback to make sure I remained serious.

After a series of serious questions about what I thought about them, their work, their ability to satisfy me (I love this), they asked me stuff about my favourite things. I have a few favourite things but with mood swings I like a bit of change…anyhow, I decided to sound serious.

I will skip the usual ones…then they got me to thingies:

Watches: Patek Phillipe, Tissot.

My reputation was at stake or else I would have said Chunibhai’s shop, where I got that big one with a purple dial that does not work and cost me 250 rupees.

Cuisine: I lay it on…French, Thai, Mexican, South Indian, Italian, Chinese, Tibetan, Burmese, Nepali, Burkano Fasoan, Frontier (yo, mah jihadi basic instincts)…okay four of them I did not mention.

What I wanted to say? A regular supply of chocolate walnut brownie with triple scoop ice-cream and Bailey’s Irish cream and sprinkled with nuts.

Favourite apparel: None. Really. I said it. Now the envelope has been sealed and delivered.

Pity they didn’t ask about favourite position. I guess their zeal wasn’t missionary enough to get a woman on top to fess up about how every doggie has its day.

Since I like being upfront, here it is: Left of Centre.

Seriously.

Redefining national shame: India, Pakistan, Israel

This is the season of shame. Everyone is so into this national shame business. Of course, it is all skewed. It is as though feeling ashamed makes you a patriot.

Indian Pachchtava League

For those who have been jumping around about the IPL being shifted outside the country – as though it ever was a national tournament – being a shame to the nation, I only wish they’d stop in their tracks awhile.

Nah, I am not going to do a Chidambaram and say Gujarat riots were a national shame (then one will have to talk about apartheid in South Africa and all that)…all the politicians squawking about what is none of their business is a round-the-year shame.

I wish to draw attention to a report that says:

A South African peace conference of Nobel laureates has been postponed after the government’s decision to deny a visa to Tibet’s spiritual leader the Dalai Lama.

Several Nobel peace prize winners had threatened to boycott the event over the visa ban, but the government said it was standing by its decision. Local media said the visa was refused after pressure from China, a big investor and trade partner.

So, do we talk about national shame that South Africa has got the IPL contract for our great Indian Premier League when our great generosity of spirit and commitment towards the Tibetan cause is being put to test? Are we going to be great trade partners with that country as China is or will we choose our great ethical position for our refugee with a hill station?

*Pachchtava = regret

Pakistan’s real losers

Zardari figures among the big losers of the world. Pakistanis are feeling chastised that they let him get away with the murder of democracy and all that jazz. How the hell does it matter? And what kind of a loser is he when he has been on a winning streak – money, fun, houses, and the Presidential seat?

They should be more ashamed about the financial state of ghazal maestro Mehdi Hassan.

“My family, which has exhausted even its ‘rainy day securities’, is now badly failing to foot the treatment bills,” said his son Arif.

The ‘Shahenshah-i-Ghazal’ will need monetary assistance for the rest of his life if he is to survive, the report said.

Arif said he still has to pay about Rs 5 lakh to the private hospital for accommodation and treatment, in addition to meeting other expenditures incurred on Khan Sahib and his family.

Forget the government, what about the music industry in Pakistan, the artists, the film and television sector, NGOs? What about all those music companies that still play his numbers and don’t bother about royalties?

I hope some of them get up and contribute and do so quietly without fanfare. Show the man respect. If today anyone recognises Pakistan’s ghazal singers, it is entirely due to Mehdi saab’s tremendous contribution. All of us have heard him first before we went on to anyone else.

And no one is ever going to Zardari in a hurry, not even Sherry…medium dry?

Israeli military’s pretence

Israeli soldiers wore T-shirts with a pregnant woman in crosshairs and the slogan “1 Shot 2 Kills,” adding to a growing furore in the country over allegations of misconduct by troops during the Gaza war.

The shirts “are not in accordance with IDF values and are simply tasteless,” the military said in a statement. “This type of humour is unbecoming and should be condemned.” The army said it would not tolerate such behaviour and would take disciplinary action against the soldiers involved.

Oho…what a shame…you can go and raze whole Palestinian villages, put a blockade over essential supplies, occupy a land that is not yours, but when it comes to raising a moral bogey, blame the T-shirt.

Are those soldiers doing it as Israelis or as individuals? Are we to believe that there is no schooling in hatred? Has the Israeli army not killed pregnant women? These were enlisted men.

If you want to feel ashamed, then do so for the basic politics and pugnacity you revel in. The T-shirts are only a reflection of this same attitude.

Nano – saving us from shame?

Now that we have Nano, are we to feel less ashamed? I am sick of seeing that car all over the place and Ratan Tata giving the people’s car to the people. All we saw was TV channels covering the press conference, biggies talking about its body and mileage and such stuff…real people will have to shell out the “little over a lakh rupees” and stay away from the public eye. Incidentally, why are there three types with different pricing? Does it not contradict the very purpose of the notion of a cheap car for the common man? Why grade the common man?

This is a nice game being played of people versus people. The World According to Nano was my take on this very idea when the butt-ugly car was being conceived.