The invitation Modi did not get...

Of Bukhari, politics and politicians

"Should we invite him? Say, do you want us to invite the prime minister? If not, what are we debating?" Tariq Bukhari, whatever be his other qualities or lack of them, nailed it on all the TV discussions I surfed through.

His brother Syed Ahmed Bukhari, Shahi Imam of Delhi's Jama Masjid, recently named his 19-year-old son Shaban Bukhari as his successor. There is to be an initiation ceremony to anoint him the 'Naib Imam'. Invitations have been sent out. Narendra Modi has not received one, although some other BJP members have. Political leaders from other parties as well as foreign leaders have been invited. Nawaz Sharif is one of them.

This whole package has led to a most juvenile debate — from the use of the coronation to the nationalism of Muslims. There is something cussed about how everybody plays politics to the detriment of how to deal with the immediate.

Recently, there were communal riots in Delhi's Trilokpuri. Should Muslims not address this as well? Instead of doing so, Ahmed Bukhari explained his reluctance to invite the PM thus:

“Muslims of India do not recognise Narendra Modi as their leader, hence the invite has not been sent. He may have been elected the PM, but the Muslims of India do not accept him. Narendra Modi should first tender apology for the Gujarat riots.”

Let me get this out of the way. Bukhari has no locus standi in the community. He is seen by Muslims as the head of a mosque whose primary job is as moon-sighter during Ramzan. Outside of the Chandni Chowk area he is persona non grata. Indeed, he does meet politicians and they do try to woo him to support their candidate. This works at the symbolic level of secularism.

Unlike the Shankaracharyas and certainly the RSS/VHP remote controlling organisations, there is little by way of Muslim leadership that can speak with any authority on the community. Bukhari does not even have the febrile impact of, say, the Deoband seminary in Uttar Pradesh. In that sense, he is non-controversial simply because he is irrelevant.

Having said that, I fail to understand why Kamal Farooqui of the All India Muslim Personal Law Board was screeching about how Modi is everybody's prime minister and he respects the office. In that case, he was also the chief minister of Gujarat and people could justify everything as respect for that office.

Even more unfortunate is how one invitation has again raised the question about where Muslim allegiance lies. I do not blame Bukhari for this because as I have taken pains to point out he is not in a position to decide or influence. But why are those in power even bringing up the loyalty card? Why is it not assumed, as in the case of the majority community?

The Congress Party's Renuka Chowdhary called Bukhari a social reformer. That is her problem, not that of Muslims in India. Besides, to be charitable, we have very many people in power who are hailed as reformers in full-page ads when all they have done is added varnish to derelict structures.

My first thought when I saw a clip was: what if Bukhari had not made a comment on the PM? Would it be considered just one of those occasions where a name is left out? BJP members are appearing on TV to express anger over this deliberate omission is akin to wrangling for an invite. Some have even said that if anybody attends it would be an insult to 1.2 billion Indians and display a lack of self respect.

Is the invite to Pakistani PM Nawaz Sharif a reason for the bluster? Pakistan has fired along the LoC so anybody being friendly with the leadership is anti-national goes the argument. Track II developments have not stopped. If India is serious, why is it permitting such initiatives? Why did we offer Diwali sweets to their border forces, which they declined? Why do we continue to watch their TV serials and why are their actors and singers such an intrinsic part of our pop culture?

These questions are not about alarmism, but a genuine need to understand why we resort to such passive-aggressive moves. Detente cannot be carried out in studios; it requires leaders. And pragmatism happens to be the core of politics. What we see is not that; it is pussy-footing.

Modi did invite Sharif for his oath-taking ceremony. When this was pointed out, a BJP spokesperson was livid: "What kind of arrogance is this to compare." That says it all. It is a display of arrogance that prompts such a statement. The PM's function had all the pomp and pageantry of a coronation, so for the party members to remember democracy now when some fellow will be anointed in a mosque is disingenuous.

It is also galling when they ask why people do not recall other riots. We do. Today is the anniversary of the 1984 massacre of Sikhs under a Congress regime. The PM has announced a Rs. 5 lakh compensation to the next of kin for the over 3000 killed. It is good, although late and rather obviously a point scoring move. However, if this is the precedent, will we see similar announcements for the 1993 Mumbai riots, 2002 Gujarat riots, 2013 Muzaffarnagar riots, and a host of others?

Should the monetary exchange buy justice? That would be most unfortunate.

It is also time for the establishment to grow up and stop using the public to achieve its ends whenever elections loom ahead. There is too much of a price innocent people have to pay to 'earn' sympathy gestures.

If Ahmed Bukhari, or anybody else, incites people to violence and bigotry pull him up, arrest him, try him. Just do not use every occasion to flash your prejudices and give even more legitimacy to a non-entity.

End note: Just wondering what would have been the reaction had this been a khatna (circumcision) ceremony of Bukhari's son/nephew/grandson and not an anointment.

Ageism as monstrosity

Why is old age fit enough to be a Halloween costume? Heidi Klum chose to dress up as one for the annual party. As Jezebel reported, "She's honestly unrecognizable — look at the fake veins on her legs and hands. She must be wearing fake skin over her skin, like a festive version of Necromancer pants."

These pants are made of human skin. We won't go there now, but Halloween is supposed to commemorate the dead, martyrs and loved ones who have left. What message does this 'costume' convey? To begin with, it does not look like a costume. It is realistic. It makes it appear that the end is near for old age, and the body must be ravaged and sag and wrinkle.

As an international supermodel who has seen a lot of cosmetic intervention around her, Heidi ought to know that this is not how old age always looks. I am not against the fact that this could be the natural consequence, and there is nothing to be squeamish about it. But for Halloween — when everybody wants to do a make-believe? Had she chosen a gothic version, it would have been more than fine. This, however, is eerily reminiscent of the real, and it does not appear to be granted the respect it deserves.

There seems to be a whole attitude towards ageism that props up not just the Botox industry, but more damagingly the thought process. Youth, irrespective of maturity, is seen as the final authority, the mantle-wearers, the shining knights and primped up goddesses.

Had these fake veins been real they'd hurt like hell. Fantasy reduces them to a caricature.

© Farzana Versey

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I had written about how Halloween made me Somebody Else

Jest Married

Weddings are probably occasions when people have every right to indulge in all their fantasies.

Around this time of the year, whenever I pass the Marine Drive stretch dotted with gymkhanas, there is opulence staring in the face. Elephants, apsaras, fountains, havelis…I once even saw a terracotta Venus lying in repose. How I wish they had a David standing over her. In bright daylight, all these decorations look forlorn, if not ridiculous. They are like discarded courtesans from another era. At night, with lights on, bedecked guests, music, they take on a respectable sheen.

It is not right to question anyone’s idea of a wedding. However, when I read about this, I was stupefied.I'll skip the names although they were on the front page:

One of the biggest weddings in the city in recent years saw...the son of city realtor tying the knot with the daughter of a business tycoon. The four-day wedding bash, rumoured to have cost around Rs 50 crore (over $5 million), attracted over 6,000 guests, including an A-list of celebrities ranging from industrialists and builders to film stars and politicians…

The celebrations spilled over to the next day with a bingo night and an array of games, with eye-popping prizes for the winners: Mercedes, BMWs, Audis, paid foreign and domestic holidays, besides other expensive gifts.

Almost all the guests were well-heeled. I find this rather downmarket. Affluent people carrying away keys to cars, envelopes with tickets to places they’ve been to several times. I would feel terribly insulted.

It is good to have games and fun. Take-away gifts have also become mandatory. This is just so much tosh. Avarice seems to afflict the elite more than anyone else. It is not just greed for money; it is greed for one-upmanship, for power, for acceptance. But, how would a big name feel driving a BMW won in a game of bingo at a wedding? Or, what is one of them is spotted at the airport to catch a flight and someone from those 6000 guests is present and smiles knowingly at the ticket that was won and is being used?

That is the reason I call it downmarket. If you imagine for a moment that such gifts might be passed on to the less fortunate, who do you think those would be? What will the staff do with fancy cars? Besides, many will have to ‘respect the sentiments’ of the giver and keep the gifts. It is all hogwash because they would in all likelihood be backbiting about the host’s déclassé showing off.

 For all the poshness, there are other areas where the hosts reveal chinks:

The menu was multidimensional: Indian, continental, Punjabi, Rajasthani, south Indian, Italian, Chinese et al. “In short, from dhokla-patra to noodles-pasta, there was everything to suit the taste buds of the distinguished gathering,” a family friend said.

Distinguished people do not attend wedding to eat. Distinguished people might be quite discerning and appreciate one sort of cuisine, instead of biting into dhoklas between bites of dimsums while a plate with quivering sphagetii waits for their attention, all to be washed down with robust Punjabi lassi or is it South Indian rasam?

This is not about one wedding. It has become standard fare, with different stalls set up s though you are at some buffet in a restaurant. With so many guests, it might be impossible to have a sit-down dinner. So, why don’t they just have bearers go around with finger food? Then it does not matter that patra is popped in straight after canapés.

Perhaps, the dinner spread from all regions and countries can be packed and given away as prize on some bingo night. 

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Update on Nov 30:

In another context, extremely progressive and gratifying report about wedding vows to protect girl child that I shall reproduce in full:

JAIPUR: After the saat phera and agni sakhshi, health department authorities in Jhunjhunu will make the newly weds take an "official" vow.

Stung by the increasing cases of female feticide, couples will have to sign an affidavit after completing the customary seven rounds proclaiming that they would not possess any bias towards the girl child. They will have to take an oath that the bride will never undergo sex determination test. This was decided four days after bodies of two new born girls were found at separate locations in Jhunjhunju. The sex ratio of males to females is the lowest in this district in the state.

Jhunjhunu's deputy chief medical and health officer Dr Pradeep Singh told TOI, for the first time in the state, such a scheme is being launched under "Save the Girl Child" project."To raise awareness against female feticide and infanticide, we have termed it the eighth vow of marriage. We have printed about 3,000 affidavits which will be handed over to newly weds during the marriage ceremony in the district," said Singh.

The affidavit reads: "We take the eighth pledge that the bride will not undergo sex determination test. We will do our best to save the girl child and also raise awareness among others." The affidavit will be authorised by the minister of state for health Dr Rajkumar Sharma and signed by the couple. 

Wailers and vultures

‘With Bal Thackeray on Life Support, Mumbai braces for violence’. The New York Times in its “Notes from the world’s largest democracy” just could not let go of the opportunity.

But, then, this is what the Indian media has been doing. They positioned their OB vans, and how dare those Shiv Sainiks who had gathered near Matoshree, the Shiv Sena leader’s residence, come in the way of their ‘job’. Their job is not to wait for someone to die. Whenever that is to happen, they will know.

Some of them have complained about being hurt in scuffles. This is what happens when there are crowds. The SS has done far worse, with the people, with media-persons. But in the 90s news channels and their prominent anchors were not celebrities. The people who were beaten, whose offices destroyed were not important people in their scheme of things. What a strange coincidence that Nikhil Wagle, among the few who stood up to Bal Thackeray, is today part of one of these tosh news channels.

I have absolutely no sympathy for Thackeray the politician, and it does not even need to be emphasised. If you’ve been around during the 1992-93 riots, you would know, especially if you went where it mattered. Nor am I one of those “oh, it does not change anything only because s/he is dead/ailing”, although I would accord some respect to privacy. And at least I would not think it terribly funny to pun on his name or crack lame jokes. This is to be expected from people who get their information on timelines and find it easy to just lump along with any smart-ass.

Where were all these people when he was well and thriving? Hitting out at someone who is in a weak situation reveals the weakness of the people commenting. Does anyone recall the grand interviews Balasaheb gave to the media? You should watch some to get an idea about how deferential the media was. To see them today screeching about how his legacy is about violence is a tad bit amusing, not to mention that it states the obvious.

Regarding all this talk about how the sainiks have/will behave and what business they have to converge at his place, did anyone ask why Amitabh Bachchan landed up there? Lest anyone forgets or does not know, Mr. B holds a Sunday durbar at his residence. He comes out to greet his fans. The cops are required. He does this because he wants to reciprocate their love or some such thing. Well, then Mr. Thackeray has his supporters. The police force is needed to handle the situation.

And what exactly is the situation? Why does the media indulge in pre-empt strikes about “violence”? Yes, the sainiks can get excitable and agitated. Think about what happens down South when film stars and politicians have died. There are mass suicides.

Some shops did stay shut. Public transport was slow. Who put the germ of the idea that “something might happen” in the minds of these people? Even if some sainiks did go around asking people to down shutters, the snowballing effect is all thanks to the media and social networking sites.

The worst possible aspect is that they are using Muslim shoulders to fire their empty guns. As always, such ‘protective’ instinct is counterproductive.

There is the violence of the street. And the violence of using the possibility of such violence for one's benefit.

Desecrating the Common Man

Where are the pigeon droppings? Do we spare anyone? Can the ordinary person be a holy cow?

This sculture at Worli Sea face is based on cartoonist R.K.Laxman's Common Man, who whimsically looked on as politicians fought for power and pelf.

We woke up to him every day, his silence his statement. Even those who did not live his kind of life were drawn to him.

There's a flipside to this. Such empathy can be conveniently put on a pedestal. It's not surprising that Anna Hazare had garlanded it one of his outings.

However, what would make people want to vandalise this symbol of 'no one', so to speak? His arm was broken; glasses broken. Was it living up to its identity of being broken, destroyed a bit every day?

It is a public place. Has it hurt anyone? Who would want a piece of spectacles or a fibre-metal limb?

We see that even sculptures at heritage sites, especially of women, are strategically damaged.

Is it anger? At whom? I think it is oneself.

And as the sculpture is taken away to be laid to rest, we know that by such destruction the humble common man has got his martyrdom.

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Images: Mumbai Mirror

Hillary, Pippa and Peeping Toms

The battle’s between the rear and the mouth. Pippa Middleton is now known only in hindsight, or as hind site. Ridiculous as it may seem, the new Duchess of Cambridge’s sister has an Ass Appreciation Society that boasts over 200,000 members dedicated to her. They will celebrate her ‘day’ after her birthday on September 9. Will she be as “pert” then? Even if such adulation must irk her, subconsciously she will become conscious.

The brain behind the bottom, Jimmy Wevell, said: “I watched the royal wedding and the only thing that was entertaining me was Pippa's ass, I have to thank her for it.”

How can it be entertaining? I shall not get into the objectification argument because all such events objectify someone or the other and if you televise a private occasion live then the occasion is the object. However, it tells us a bit about how hollow lives have become that people need to seek not heroes but parts of them. A nose here, a pair of eyes there. One can understand admiration, even emulation if it is restricted to style and mannerisms, because individuality is effortless and some people need to put in some work to just be themselves.

The hypocrisy is that the $5m for one scene she has been offered in a porn film is considered crass. Vivid Entertainment’s founder Steven Hirsch saw what the rest did, and what the rest did was a snowball effect. Not everyone can notice a butt at the same time and with the same intensity.

This is really about images, in this case the televised walk holding the trail. One might dismiss it as just another fancy. It is. This too is voyeurism.

Just as no one has a problem over the two million hits on Hillary’s photograph in just one location (Flickr) looking in what appeared to be shock – wide eyed and open-mouthed, they said. How did they know whether her mouth was open since her hand covers it? It became a testimonial for the nature of the goings on in the ‘situation room’ at the White House. What meaning were people looking for, what reassurance, what condemnation? She later clarified, “I am somewhat sheepishly concerned that it was my preventing one of my early Spring allergic coughs. So, it may have no great meaning whatsoever.”

Pictures are subject to perception and we do know that what happens in a fraction of a second is not only a fraction of the truth, it is probably not the truth at all. So, if this applies to Hillary – no shock, and no Miss Universe moment of OMG, I won – then all images can be suspect.

Why not a cheep of protest over the images leaping out now – pictorial and verbal? I am not a buffet person who goes around a pre-arranged table consuming what is offered. I like it a la carte, especially if I am told it is available. The chef cannot just say he’s cooked it, describe the recipe, put it on the menu and then tell me it’s not worth it, it won’t suit my palate. The chef says it to everyone. Not everyone has the same palate and taste buds or visits restaurants for the same reasons.

My ‘voyeurism’ – the right to know really – has been vindicated by these two ‘harmless’ images of the ladies. Interestingly, the men are not analysed.

Well, not unless they took ‘herbal Viagra’. How everyone is lapping up all this information. Avena syrup, an extract of wild oats, is marketed as a natural Viagra. There are many natural aphrodisiacs available all over the world. But you say Viagra and the potency of the image leaps out. I read a bit about oats and they add to fructose content and are not all that great for several other reasons. And if the dead man suffered from kidney failure, he was cured with watermelons!

There is no need for aphrodisiacs. People can just get off on such imagery.

During the Bhopal gas leak, we got to see some rather ‘artistic’ award-winning pictures, with slippers carefully arranged near a child’s half-buried body. It was half the truth, which was way more horrific.

The picture of Pippa reduces her to one thing and Hillary’s, the ‘hitters’ hope, stands for something more profound and revealing. Neither is factual but impressionistic. These give vicarious thrills and not the reality.
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Updated:

An unseen photograph of Princess Diana in her dying moments will be shown in a film at the Cannes festival. As a report says:

The documentary 'Unlawful Killing' is backed by actor Keith Allen and Mohammed Al Fayed, whose son Dodi also died with the Princess of Wales, reports the Daily Mail.

The 90-minute film will include a graphic black and white close-up of the late princess taken moments after the Mercedes carrying the couple crashed in a Paris underpass.

The distressing image, Diana's blonde hair and features clearly visible, has never been publicly seen in the UK.

It will be shown around the world but not in the UK, prompting Allen to say: "Pity, because at a time when the sugar rush of the royal wedding has been sending republicans into a diabetic coma, it could act as a welcome antidote."

Al Fayed is an opportunist, but I found Allen's statement more so. Yet, unless the film is an expose, such a picture will only be exhibitionistic.

Black-try dinner

 Not given to political correctness for the sake of it, I yet find the idea of a ‘blind restaurant' revolting.

It isn’t new, and has branches in a few cities. Dans le Noir (In the Black) is staffed by blind waiters and waitresses. You can only choose whether you want meat, fish or vegetables, but not specify anything more. Same goes for cocktails. You are led by a guide and the visually-impaired staff becomes your eyes.

It is completely dark and you don’t even know who you are seated next to. Once the food arrives, you are informed and then begins the battle of trying to figure out what it is.

A report says, “It’s also a great chance to break free of social convention and eat using your fingers. Those same fingers are also the only way you can tell how much wine you’re pouring into your glass.”

After fumbling and spilling and making conversation with your neighbour, when you are done, you are taken to the lit bar area where they show you what you ate and the person you discussed the food with. 60 people spend 90 minutes indulging in this charade.

I know there are quirky food places and ideas. But is this a quirk? What kind of people would pay to experience the feeling of being blind? Do these eateries assume that blind people have no choice in the matter of what they eat? The idea of diners poking into bits of food and swirling their fingers in wine glasses just demeans those who cannot see. However, I know quite a few such people and this is most certainly not how they eat and drink.

The patronising bit of them acting as guides only makes it worse. It reiterates the theory that they have to live in eternal darkness and even then must display their independence. They cannot afford not to as they have to cater to the paying customer’s whims.

What learning experience can this be when the people come out and have a good laugh? Not only is it insensitive, I wonder about the kind of idiots who cannot manage to at least know from the aroma a little bit of what they are being served.

Darkness has many meanings and manifestations. I recall a visit to some old ruined castle in the UK where the big thrill was cobwebs hanging down some caves. The highlight was that some spooky creature would leap out and frighten the hell out of you. This was for a lark, to recreate an ambience.

Dans le Noir cannot afford to play such pranks because it is toying with disability, a ‘let’s see how it feels’ situation. There is no attempt at empathy or understanding. It is a vile commercial proposition and a rather sad success story, which it appears to be from the fact that it has spread out in different cities. It reveals that very many human beings are so devoid of vision that they want to act blind when they cannot see beyond their limited worlds.

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.

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

No Comments

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.

We Indians don't get it

This Aman ki Asha surely won’t be a free lunch. We are still talking about peace this and peace that in a bubble gum manner. It’s getting to be a bit irritating. The TOI that has come to rhe forefront with this initiative devoted a whole page on how the “Gen-Now Flicks” will send us all in a tizzy because “India and the world love Pakistan’s BRAVE NEW CINEMA”. Aww.

Indians have loved Pakistani drama serials for years, and they were pretty brave and subtle. The reason for applauding this brave new cinema is because we want to extend our commercial space. The whole deal is collaboration, and it has nothing to do with political peace. So, we should just cut this and talk about what is on everyone’s mind – market economics.

Along with the main article there was a smaller piece by a Pakistani and I was quite amused to read some of it:

They (the audience) also love the man who played Munnabhai — Sanjay Dutt, fondly called “Nargis ka beta”.

This is utter rubbish and playing to some imagined gallery. I know people in the entertainment industry and I have met people of all kinds there. They do not refer to him as anyone’s beta; they might call him Sunju baba because they read our gossip columns and they know about his drug addiction and his prison term.

Even the ‘gay’ comedy Dostana had the women in hijab in splits.

Geez. This is a Pakistani woman and she is stereotyping the female population. Even if the women in hijab did go and watch Dostana, why is it so important that their being in splits about a gay comedy should be emphasised? Were the bearded guys wearing skull caps also in splits? And the women in jeans and the men wearing baseball caps backwards?

Come on. Grow up. Aman ki Asha is not going to happen by going along with this sort of cheesy and cliched caravan.

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Juvenile ideas of culture seem to prevail. Now, you can dine at the local Eiffel Tower. Why? Because we need to strengthen our French connection. I know many other ways we can do so, but shall let it pass.


Puducherry – Pondicherry – does have a French influence even today, but it makes no sense for this gross expenditure for a Rs 25 crore-replica because not many in France dine at the real place and this is not going to be a replacement for a trip to Paris for those who can afford to or wish to visit. With competitive travel opportunities, people are in fact travelling quite a bit and not many would eat there, anyway.

What will the replica offer?

If things go according to plans, you could dine at the multicuisine restaurant on the desi Eiffel Tower offering a panoramic view of the Godavari river, the Bay of Bengal, the ruined Dutch port, the seaside town of Kakinada, the Reliance gas plants and the lush green coconut groves of the Konaseema belt.

Honestly, they could just build a tower. The French who have made Puducherry their home prefer cycling down the roads or spending time at Auroville. This might give a kick to some neighbouring city dwellers for a while. That’s it. Why multi-cuisine? Camembert soufflé wrapped in paper dosa? Or crepes sprinkled with mulgapudi?

There are interesting little French restaurants serving pretty authentic food and don’t cost a bomb and don’t look down at gas plants. If the Ambani clout is at work we might have some Gujju fare too…pure veg and no frog legs. Thenk yoo.

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End note

As reports of another Indian being attacked in Melbourne ruled the airwaves on Saturday, the government appealed for “restraint’’ in reporting the incident, expressing fears that it would damage bilateral relations with Australia.

Is this what makes us want to be proud nationalists?

Ghalib and the kiss at Indian weddings

naadaan ho jo kehte ho ki kyon jeete ho 'Ghalib'
qismat mein hai marne ki tamannaa koi din aur

Would Mirza Ghalib’s ghost have stood waiting near the coffee maker amongst neon lights for his post-dinner beverage?

The news that his haveli, which was restored only 10 years ago, was used for a wedding reception is rather appalling. Imagine people in their finery jostling amongst the poet’s personal belongings. A report says the floor was “littered with food crumbs, crushed plastic glasses and disposable plates”.

Why would anyone choose such a place for their celebrations? Do they feel culturally enlightened and wish to convey that to their guests? Is it some sort of antique value they seek? This isn’t something new. It happens all the time – old paintings, old mansions used by the nouveau riche to convey some connection with a background they often lack. Everybody has a right to strive to make money and awareness is not the jaagir of those born into wealth. But the term nouveau is used disparagingly and not without reason. There is a category of people who will flash whatever they have.

The bride and groom may not necessarily have an acquaintance with the poet’s work. What about the parents? Assuming they are fans of Ghalib, could they not respect the space? These days every little religious icon gets sanctified even if it is put up by some goon. Why don’t we learn to value those who truly contributed to our lives and their works have lived down centuries?

There are many farm houses in Delhi. They could have been given that old world look and trussed one up to appear like a crumbling haveli.

Marriages are now all about event management, so this seems par for the course.

On the other hand, there is news that Indians are giving up traditional functions (that coffee maker is an indication!). I read this from an article about fusion weddings:

One affluent and typical Gujarati family had hosted an English dinner after the dandiya function. The desi best man and maid of honour, dressed in coordinated traditional Indian wear, made speeches and raised a toast to the couple as aunties and uncles grinned behind clusters of flowers on assigned tables. The last few phera mantras were translated into English on the microphone by the pandit and the couple even exchanged I dos, says the wedding planner.

I am concerned about the English dinner. I have seen food stalls with Burmese bhel, paneer dim-sums, but since we are talking about vegetarians would they stuff the jacket potatoes with poha or dal dhokli? People do drink, but I wonder about the toast. Something like, “May Jitesbhai and Falguni ben leeve hep-peeli after”.

The sardars would go full throttle with a “Chak de phate, Hramindarr pra and Hramindarr pojai. Oye gud luck and many tandoori nights…”

When one passes the Marine Drive there are several garishly-decorated wedding venues. Some have thermocole elephants flanking the gate; others have a Venus ice sculpture. I have not yet seen David in the buff.

For a relative’s marriage in Toronto that I was present at they had traditional ceremonies before marriage, then a nikaah with an English translation (I got there late, so missed it), and the reception was a complete volte face. The bride wore a gown. There was a Best Man who emcee-ed the show and took off his shirt. There were speeches; the tables had bows and gifts for everyone. And the couple took to the floor with a waltz…dancing to the Bollywood number "Kuchch na kaho”!

The boy migrated when he was in his late teens; the girl went there after marriage. So, all of this must have taken some practice.

Anyhow, after the initial gliding softly, everyone came to their senses and started doing the bhangra and the dandiya.

Eats the time to dhisco.

HIV installed

Before - unknown volunteers

After - socialite Parmeshwar Godrej with her American designer of the AIDS awareness installation

- - -

Article to follow later.

Caveman, Cavewoman

Where are the bats? The darkness? Why are these two cave-dwelling examples more about urban chic than an honest attempt at starkness?

Daniel Suelo has been described as a “48-year-old hermit from Utah”. Eight years ago he decided to stop using money. For the past three years he has been living in a cave. His eureka moment came when he went on a trip to Alaska. His friend and he “speared fish, ate mushrooms and berries and lived very well. Then we hit the road, hitchhiking, and realised how generous people were”.

Now this is being glorified. How many people do you know of who have given up materialism, live away from ‘civilisation’, and yet manage to reach out? Mr. Suelo has succeeded in portraying himself as one who lives without government handouts. Yet, he goes to a public library to record moments of his “punishing lifestyle”. He is a hero during times of recession because he has got no money, so he cannot lose it. Ho-hum.

This charade reeks of disdain in a world where qualified people are laid off. Where skilled labour in some societies has to subsist on minimum wages. Where people do not have water, forget fish to find in it.

There was a report a year ago about a foreign tourist who lived in a cave in the mountain regions of Kullu a tourist town in Himachal Pradesh. After losing her passport 8 years ago, Dimitri subsisted by soliciting money, food, and other essentials.

No one quite knew where she was from, though the cops said, “She has been living here for last many years.”

And how has that been possible? She did serve a seven month term for being without documents, but why was she still there with the knowledge of the cops? If her police records showed she was from Italy, then on what grounds did that country refuse to accept her?

What I find even more intriguing is that she declined to interact with Indians and begged only from foreigners. Ah, and they say beggars can’t be choosers.

Is there a need to romanticise such stories? There are millions of people who are homeless and do not have the choice of who they beg from and how they file their routines for internet posterity. This cave identity just does not convey a fraction of the squalid conditions of people who live in the open or in pipes.

I’ll any day take bats over manipulative batty.

The Muslim Factor in Rakhi ka Swayamvar

...and sophomoric feminism

Mainstream liberal privately-owned Indian television slapped the Muslim community. I was expecting it, but not the way it finally happened.

Rakhi with her gift of love

A short background. The reality show Rakhi ka Swayamvar is currently NDTV Imagine’s best-selling prime-time money maker. Rakhi Sawant has to choose from 16 suitors, mimicking the swayamvar of the old days.

There were two Muslim contestants. The first one was booted out on Day One; someone had to be and he was probably not all that good. Fair enough. The other contestant was a police officer from Kashmir. Athar Pervez did not come across as the smartest bloke but he was quiet and fairly dignified.

Last night, they got the TV host’s wife as the bhabhi, a sort of support system for the bride-to-be. Athar met her and said he wanted to confess something. He was already married and had three kids! What the heck is going on? The channel screened the applicants. Did he lie to them? Why was that question not raised?

Instead, there was an attempt to buffer the stereotype of Islam and four wives. The bhabhi looked shocked when he said that his wife and parents knew that he was participating and his wife only wanted him to be happy. When Rakhi was told about it she sniffled and said he was one person she had begun to respect and was thinking of as a potential partner. In a conversation, he repeated what he had said and Rakhi asked him how it was possible for a man to have more than one wife. He told her his religion permitted it but he would not leave his family. She looked at him angrily and shot back, “How can any religion allow it?”…and then went on to give him a lecture on Islam and what the Quran in fact says. (Her version is not completely right.) Pervez Athar may be married, but this was no way to make a point.

Rakhi welcomes Pervez

The point being made here is that now the protagonist of the show can turn around and say that these contestants may all have skeletons in their cupboards or something to hide so, nope, she won’t marry anyone. This bit will come at the end. In all likelihood it is an eyewash, to begin with.

Why do I watch the programme at all? For several reasons. I do watch TV, including soaps. Long before she was legitimised by the posh set of coffee spelled with a K and togged up in designer wear, I had expressed some admiration for her position; I felt there was a hierarchy followed regarding who could strip more and, because she spoke little English and did not belong to the charmed set, she was doomed to be referred to as an item girl. I thought that after her makeover she would still come across as honest even if melodramatic. She is. Pretty much.

I also liked the idea of a swayamvar. This was a practice prevalent in ancient times and some of our epic characters chose their husbands in this manner – be it Sita in Ramayana or Draupadi in Mahabharata. True, these were from royal families and the suitors were naturally from similar backgrounds. In a contemporary setting, it would be an interesting concept and perhaps convey that women have the right to ask questions and be in command.

The first episode had Rakhi welcoming her suitors; each carried a gift. Then there were episodes where she tested them at various levels, and perhaps that will continue. Unfortunately, even though she is the one in charge, she has talked about wanting to live in a joint family. When a buffoon said if he had to choose between a plasma TV and a washing machine he would opt for the latter because he would not want her to wash clothes, she was impressed. Puhleeze…he could bloody well wash them. She also talks about the importance of dal-chaawal over lipstick – now this woman cannot hold her breasts till they are filled with silicone gel, has had every part either pumped up or tucked in, so what is going on? Why can a woman not want the best if she has earned it? Why is she playing this simple girl? Is simplicity only about superficials?

Some of the contestants were students or barely earned any money; she herself implied that a couple of them were looking for fame. Of course, they are.

When the channel announced the show, they reportedly received 15,000 applications. There is one contestant from Toronto. The channel is attempting pop psychology with little games, but this is not anywhere close to a feminist statement. I mean, she dresses in low-cut gowns to convey that this is what she wears and then simpers and asks whether some guy’s family will accept her. She fed a Brahmin vegetarian some meat and he ate it. I know many pure vegetarians and they would throw up. This guy just made a face and then gobbled it up.

As drama, this works at a sophomore level because most of the boys/men are stupid and only want to show themselves on TV. It is obvious. Or they could be besotted by Rakhi.

Pervez Athar said he was. Besides the Islam factor, she also said that she would not want to break up anyone’s home. The fellow is telling her in front of the world that he loves his wife and will not leave his family. Where is the question, then, of breaking up a home?

Pervez Athar

He lives in Srinagar and if his seniors really gave him permission to participate in this, then one must find out what exactly are the rules. Did he show the channel any such report? Before an audience of millions he has been made out to be a liar and a cheat. If the police force wishes to take action against him, it would only be right that the channel is also made culpable. If all this was only for effect, I should hope no organisation issues a fatwa or something. That is precisely what some of these people want. The fact is that Athar said that he loved Rakhi and not her religion so he would not ask her to convert. Therefore, it isn’t a bearded Muslim issue, okay?

It does not take too much intelligence to realise that many of the contestants will have hidden stories and agendas, too. The channel wants the show to be in the limelight. It was Rakhi’s idea and a husband is the last thing she is looking for. This is her spunky attempt at becoming ‘respectable’ or maybe even a naughty take on the bahus in our serials and, who knows, a big kick to her ex-boyfriend. Interestingly, his friend is a contestant; she knew him from before the show. How did the channel permit it?

Meanwhile, I hope today’s episode that will most definitely touch upon the married guy sent packing scene of last night does not repeat the stupid stereotypes. In fact, there ought to be an attempt to apologise, even if all this was stage-managed, which seems very likely. So is the possibility of a fake marriage taking place to save face of the purported motive.

As for the contemporary woman outside TV channels, I think they are doing fine in their offices and homes without dreaming about washing machines and a guy cleaning his dirty linen in it.

Eat your heart out?

Would you like a ‘Quadruple Bypass Burger’? Would you like to get a heart attack? At 8000 calories, the juicy stacked snack that is served at the Heart Attack Grill in Chandler, Arizona, comes with a medical disclaimer.

Is this supposed to be funny? The restaurant has a hospital theme, the staff are dressed as nurses and after the patient/patron has eaten, s/he is given a wheelchair ride.


I wanted to puke just reading about it. Not because of the burger but due to how completely stupid we are becoming as a society. It is a mockery of illness, of those who genuinely suffer, of the very idea of excess.

A parody is fine on stage or writing. But this is luring people into believing they can taste risk. In a country where people are sued for coffee that is too hot, I do not understand this mindless attempt at innovative hospitality.

You might well counter with the argument that people are going there, which means they do find it interesting. People go on rollercoaster rides, scream their lungs out and then want to repeat it. Like bungee jumping. These are risks taken with the knowledge that one is brave and fearless. It is about testing one’s mettle, not the organs in one’s body.

I wonder how this sort of thing is permitted. Next someone will serve contaminated food or a bar will offer you piss with a disclaimer.

Why don’t people just poke their fingers into electrical sockets and be done with their fun?

SRK-Aamir: Dostana?

I found these pictures hilarious, and to think they are being analysed.
I shall merely caption them with songs...

Mere haath mein tera haath ho saari jannatein mere saath ho...

Jhuki-jhuki se nazar beqaraar hai ke nahin

dabaa dabaa saa sahi dil mein pyaar hain ke nahin

Empty slogans and the charade of concern

What was supposed to be a day of reckoning turned out to reveal what a sick society can stoop down to. These were the slogans at the peace march at the Gateway of India.

‘Chief minister, you should have shown the terrorists Ram Gopal Verma Ki Aag. They would have died automatically.’

Not only is this facetious, but by blaming him for taking the film director with him we are in fact making it seem that we have no other grouse against him. But how would these poor people at the rally even know?

‘There are some more terrorists in India. They’re called politicians.’


‘Vande Mataram, Neta Besharam’


‘Our government: Mumbai’s Weapons of Mass Destruction.’

Have you ever heard this after Gujarat or Malegaon? And going by this picture, since terrorists are often referred to as dogs, would this lady let one of them enter her house?

‘Call back the bar girls, maybe they can protect us.’

Cheap shot. These women are earning an honest living. Will these blokes openly acknowledge them at any other time, especially about their hush-hush visits to some seedy bar?

‘Gali, gali mein shor hain, Pakistan chor hai’

Chor hai? Get your slogans right, if you can’t get the facts.

Three housewives from Napean Sea Road stood by the divider hurling the choicest of abuses. “They’ve raped our motherland. We want war.’’

The army is looking for recruits. Send your sons and daughters.

A group of St Xavier’s college students moved around with T-shirts that screamed: ‘No Vote, No taxes!’

You vote? You pay taxes? On what? The Mercedes your Papa gave you on your 18th birthday that you rammed into some innocent in the street?

Media personality Alyque Padamsee said he had three ideas that he was going to work on after the peace march. “If the Prime Minister appoints ministers and they don’t perform within 100 days, we people should get them sacked.”

This is not an ad agency where if your model coordinator who does not get the right gel-filled bikini top can be sacked, okay, Mr. Ignoramus? Let us not forget that this was the same man who I wrote this about:

He got hold of all the right-sounding secularists and roped in the general secretary of the Jamiat-ul Ulema-I-Hind, Maulana Mahmood Madani. The ad man and the mullah sat in the plush environs of his house. He told Madani, “…a fatwa carried weight, and created a buzz. I recalled how Imam Khomeini’s fatwa against Salman Rushdie hit the headlines. I wanted similar publicity for the anti-terrorism fatwa”.

I strongly protest against this picture. We have no business using children. And why are they shown with religious symbols? What are we teaching them - that they have no choice but to uphold their faith?


The smaller news item:

The incident took place on board the Jet Airways Aurangabad-Mumbai flight 9W-114 on Sunday. A passenger asked the flight attendant her name when she was serving him. Recounted a passenger, “We heard him ask and found it strange since flight attendants have name tags on their uniform.’’


The next question was: Are you Muslim?


“She said yes, and this man, who was about 35-years-old, started shouting at her. The man said, ‘Why the bloody hell are you Muslims doing this to our country?’ She calmly replied, ‘Sir, this is my country too.’ He shot back, ‘I don’t think so, because people from your community are behind these attacks.’ She was on the verge of tears, but said bravely, ‘Sorry Sir, they don’t belong to India. They are not Indians.’ After that she quietly moved away, avoiding further conversation. We could see that she did not go towards the cockpit to complain to the commander about it. It was very embarrassing for the rest of us. We felt like apologising to her, but were too taken aback by the incident.”

For me this is the bigger story. A brave flight attendant and a bunch of sensitive passengers. No need for a peace march. Your feelings are adequate, thank you. It is people like this unnamed passenger who will be the real citizen’s movement.

If only holding candles could change things...

I find it strange that people want me to maintain silence when even those who are miles away have been deciding the fate of us Indians.

Getting politicians to resign is the easiest thing; getting them to act is tough.

Have you seen the panel discussions on television? Even Nikhil Wagle and top cop M.N.Singh are nodding their heads at statements made by some socialite. Yeah. “Enough is enough”. I said that in 1993. Tell me what is enough and who is going to decide? I could not then. So, who will now? These people?

I was sent messages and ‘personally invited’ to a candle-light vigil. I refused to go. I said it in so many words. “Not interested.” I am not interested in standing there with melting wax to support victims. (I have never gone on such peacenik missions and never will, although some of the people involved in organising them are indeed genuine.) The victims are dead. They died because of failures at several levels.

Tragedy has been made into a joke – “I left my kids at home to be here”, “I am not having a party”, “I am wearing black”…so?

And people want me to be silent. Why?

I am sorry to bring this up, but the Sea Lounge has been mentioned again. Does anyone ever mention that of the people who are sitting in studios, 99 per cent have not ever done anything on the ground?

Does anyone know where I was during the 1993 riots? Were they even born then? Have they watched slums being bulldozed? Have they visited hospital wards and been confronted with pleas by ‘mental patients’ to take them out? Have they followed up on careless killings of ordinary people that were not due to terrorist attacks and sat with a rape victim as she showed her scars, or an old father as he waited for justice, and followed it up after a year, two years? Have they bothered to keep at the POW case of 1971 as I have, instead of capitalising on Sarabjeet Singh? Have they joined any NGO only because they feel they don’t want to merely use the people there for quotes?

You ask about my commitment?

Why? Because I am not barking into a mike? Because I am not saying with a flourish that the camera should not focus on some people shouting anti-Pak slogans (in the noise no one watching the TV would have even noticed until this was emphasised)? What for? To sound secular? Only because I am not holding a “Muslim man” by the shoulder as he, bearded, skull capped, says in English that he has come to the Gateway of India to tell people that Islam is not the religion of the terrorist and starts quoting chapter 5, surah something? Do they even realise that this looks like another kind of mockery where Muslim man comes to defend his religion?

This qualifies as an important statement?

Why not just distribute copies of the Quran and let people judge?

Why is no one complaining about this sort of media fascism where views are being forced down their throats?

I am not asking anyone to read any holy book. I am not quoting from any holy book. I am not justifying any religion. I am not abusing anyone. I am asking questions that I want to ask.

A friend told me I should not sound defensive. If it comes across as that, it is okay. I will have my say. It does reflect the views of at least some people who cannot express themselves. Or, even if they do, they feel a bond.

Someone even said I could afford not to be afraid. I am not sure how much fear costs, but those who wish to scare me will have to first become fearless themselves.

Mumbai gets a mouthful

Everyone knows I love my city. In that sense I am quite parochial. It is a great place to watch life as though it were one of those cinema verite films where the director uses a hand-held camera, shoots as it is and calls it art. Mumbai needs no editing. It is lean and mean and hungry.


The reason for this post is hunger and the acid on my tongue is bubbling to singe all these sick political parties and some media houses which have made a joke of poverty, immigrants and as basic a need as food.


Last week or so The Times of India had some Vada Pav contest where celebrities went around town checking out this humble delicacy. You should have seen these society dames and dudes putting on their “Look, I am enjoying this road stuff dahlin’, it really ain't so bad” act, as they took bites of the potato ball-chutney mix stuffed into soft bread.


What is my problem with this? My problem is that this food is available for two rupees and many people, including lower middle class office goers, have it and in the way it is cooked not trussed up for a party; it is a full meal for many of them…not some little snack they can wash down with Vermouth. Or an appetiser before they can go on to their entrée after a palate-cleanser sorbet of course…


You want to eat vada pav, go eat it. You want to promote it, then make sure it does not stand out like some big-shit event. The winners of the stalls were felicitated at a five star hotel. Obviously, our socialites won’t want to dress up for an awards function and be in the streets. Unless it is the Gateway of India backdrop listening to a musician they have never heard, only heard about.


My concern is that some of these stall owners will increase the price of these eatables. They might want to cater to the saabs and memsaabs who will send their drivers and servants to pick the stuff up.


Those who subsist on this sort of food do not need a certificate of approval from Page 3 types.


They also do not need a certificate from politicians. The Shiv Sena organised a Shiv Vada Pav Sammelan. Whether there is a sammelan or not, who cares? However, it must be credited with starting the zunka bhakar stalls quite some time ago and the purpose indeed was to have one more low-priced meal available. The current vada pav plan is clearly political. That is the reason the Congress has jumped into the fray.


It is planning a Kande Pohe fair. This is what its party spokesperson said:

“If Shiv Sena is claiming that Vada Pav is a Maharashtrian delicacy, it is a big lie. The basic ingredients of vada are potato and besan, which come from Bihar, Uttar Pradesh and Punjab, while onions and pohe, the ingredients in Kande Pohe, are available right here in Maharashtra.”

Idiots. The head of your party is from Italy, so quit this nonsense. Isn’t the Congress supposed to fight against the SS’s attitude towards immigrants? Then what is this? The poor person who needs food wants it cheap and quick. These corporate and political smart asses go and do their research when it is known that they are more concerned about the vintage of their wine (and sometimes women). I wish they’d be honest at least to themselves.


How do I like my pav? Oh, fukket it…pass me a spoonful of caviar and spread it on some smoked toast, please…

- - -

I am seriously not a big street food fan, or any kind of chaat. It is no big deal, however, if one does stop by at a roadside stall to have something. I just cannot bring myself to open my mouth wide in the street to stuff anything in it – not even my foot.


So, if you want to see me on my best behaviour, then walk with me…get some blisters!

Vultures and funerals

They chop arms to take away bangles and cut fingers to take away rings. You see these people scavenging for the leftovers of accident victims. People propelled by greed.

What about those who work stealthily and use death?

Just like vultures in Parsi deaths prey on corpses, these people prey on mourners. It isn’t to express sorrow but to use that sorrow to further their agendas.

It could be as harmless as a family friend wanting to discuss a rishta for me years ago when my Nani died. Everyone knew how close I was to her, but this hawk-like woman was evaluating me. And right there, as my Nani lay and my tears would not stop, she went up to my mother and said, “Aapki beti mujhe pasand hai, yeh sab nipat jaaye tau phir kuchch baat chalaa sakte hai.(I like your daughter, once you are done with the funeral we can talk about it)”

Ammi was in shock. She managed to mumble that this was not the right time and I made my own decisions.

A few years ago a close relative died. Her sister, who we rarely met, followed me to the kitchen where I was getting some water for the visitors. “Do you know of any good girl for my son? You know so many people…” I could not believe it. Her sister, barely a couple of years older, lay dead in the next room and this is what she could think about? She repeated this performance at the kabristan even before the body was buried.

A little over a week ago, something similar happened. This vulture behaviour is way too cunning. Someone I know lost his sister. He sent an email to a friend, a woman he has known for years but who he says he has been barely in touch with. In a way the guy’s behaviour was equally predator like. She is not even in the same city in the foreign country they live in, so why did he think it important enough? “I knew she would be polite because she wants to be in touch with me.”

Indeed.

“She wrote back to say she was sorry.”

Anyone would. But there had been undercurrents in their relationship earlier, and she had made her intentions clear. She asked him for gifts, and he sent them. Gestures. He is big on them. Maybe it is a game he likes playing – to keep things covertly active so that you can tap resources when you are running dry. She had publicly declared her feelings, naming him, after receiving a gift that she had supposedly demanded. “This is how she talks to all men,” he had said. For personal reasons, he later told her to remove it.

There was nothing going on except a few emails…and then this one. Soon after that note, she did what any true-blue vulture does. She broke her silence and again publicly addressed him with poems – one for the death and then like a bee filled with the honey of her intent she stung him with the tried and tested Neruda, “I will die of love because I love you,/Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.”

She also managed to sneak in a verse from the book he had earlier sent:

“Write to me,” it ends.

His emotional body, now numb and dead, was being revived by the lard of the syrupy weight she carried. For one who claims the soul matters, she spreads herself and the dough-like form waddles across his screen in many pixels – thighs, breasts, chins and folds of belly. She is desperate, and there is every reason to feel sorry for her. Partly, he does. He says, “I don’t dislike her”, which is hardly what one would say about a friend who you feel the need to inform about the death of one so dear to you.

He enjoys the attention. He is the cadaver with beak marks all over his body feeling for the moment that his grief will be purged through those holes. The vulture holds a piece of flesh and chews on it, slowly, slowly, and watches through wrinkled eyes for when he might wake up and give her what she wants.

He is biding time. “I can get whatever I want,” he says. As easy as that. Right now, of course, he is still clothed in black emotions of the loss. But he has also gained along the way. Been given choices.

The cadaver may become a vulture and the vulture will merely change beaks, like cars change gears.

Is it any wonder that no one mourns for vultures?