Showing posts with label wealth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wealth. Show all posts

14.5.14

The price of a home



Mukesh Ambani's home at Mumbai's Altamount Road still appears to me to be under-construction. There is something incomplete about it. Or, like a wedding cake that's been haphazardly sliced through. At night, it transforms into a lit-up bauble for Brobdingnagians.

It comes at a price and now it has topped the list, according to Forbes:

The title of the most outrageously expensive property in the world still belongs to Mukesh Ambani’s Antilia in Mumbai, India. The 27-story, 400,000-square-foot skyscraper home–which is named after a mythical island in the Atlantic–includes six stories of underground parking, three helicopter pads, and reportedly requires a staff of 600 to keep it running. Construction costs for Antilia have been reported at a range of $1 billion to $2 billion. To put that into perspective, 7 World Trade Center, the 52-story tower that stands just north of Ground Zero in Manhattan with 1.7 million square feet of office space, cost a reported $2 billion to build.


A rich person is most certainly entitled to spend wealth as s/he desires. There are wannabes who aspire to things the rich want. However, when it is a home in a city with a huge disparity in wealth among its citizens, then it ceases to be a question merely of personal riches.

Reminds me of wellknown architect Charles Correa, who and said:

“When I visited Australia I realised that save for a few homes most of the people in the cities live on similar-sized plots. Australia, I thought is locked into equality while in India we are locked into inequality. Mukesh Ambani has proved it. ‘This is the amount of urban space I control,’ he is telling us by building that home. At the same time you have to be impressed. What a huge ivory tower!”


Poverty bothers us, whether it is due to sympathy or because its presence is considered a nuisance, an intrusion into our space. We drive past, eyes averted. We walk past, waiting to get out and inhale. We are uncomfortable; this is not about us.

Why don't we feel the same way about the ostentatious although that too is not about us? We drive past and look with awe. We walk past, slow our steps until a guard looks with suspicion. This makes us uncomfortable because poor guy has access to super rich.

In that, we too live in ivory towers sponging on other people's make-believe.

© Farzana Versey

22.9.13

Blood in Nairobi




It takes extreme heartlessness to lob grenades, to shoot people in the head, and hold them hostage. People who have nothing to do with any cause, who are just going about their daily lives, enjoying an evening out with their families, or tourists taking a break from the sights.

What happened on Saturday in Nairobi is tragic and despicable. We have a tendency to compare, because we have become numb to killings largely because they appear on TV.

I would have liked to talk about my grandmother's early life in Kenya, the lullabies she sang to me in Swahili, the slaves her father released.

The crouched bodies and fear in the eyes of September 21 are a reminder of another kind of slavishness. We know who is behind the attacks. We even know why, to an extent. This does not mean anything. For, people are slaves to ideologies and politics, and nothing will stop them. The attempt to stop too is no free lunch.

Reports have mentioned the race of the victims, their nationalities, and it all becomes about who is mine, who is the other.

Al Shabaab, a terrorist organisation based in Somalia, has taken responsibility. The New York Times mentions that this attack was "one of the most chilling terrorist attacks in East Africa since Al Qaeda blew up two American embassies in 1998". Somalia and Kenya have been at war over three decades before that, and continue to be. It was territorial, to begin with.

Al-Shabaab’s spokesman, Ali Mohamoud Rage, said following the attack: “Kenya will not get peace unless they pull their military out of Somalia.”

Reports mention how the group was gloating in the social media. This trend has to stop. It is bad enough that we get sensational images on television. Such theatre of violence is close to the real thing, and glorifies the killers.

There is also a tendency to create more fissures:

• "The mall, called Westgate, is a symbol of Kenya’s rising prosperity, an impressive five-story building where Kenyans can buy expensive cups of frozen yogurt and plates of sushi. On Saturdays, it is especially crowded, and American officials have long warned that Nairobi’s malls were ripe targets for terrorists, especially Westgate, because a cafe on the ground floor, right off the street, is owned by Israelis."

Kenya is rich in natural resources, and it has seen levels of prosperity until, like many other nations, it was colonised. The expatriates continue to thrive.

However, is the Israeli establishment not there to do business? Don't they do business in the U.S. which feels under constant threat? Why is it always about 'us'? (Has the Israeli establishment expressed reservations?) The Somali group has been described as 'Islamist". Does that explain their earlier war with Kenya? Does that even explain the Arab entering Kenya in the 16 century to trade and staying on?

Eyewitnesses say the terrorists asked Muslims to leave. Unless they were recognisable by mode of dress, they would not know. And they don't really care, even if some reports suggest they asked people on the run to identify the Prophet's mother. One does not see terrorists do this in Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan where they target their co-religionists.

Rudy Atallah, the former director of African counterterrorism for the Pentagon, said: “I think this is just the beginning. An attack like this gives them the capability to recruit, it shows off their abilities, and it demonstrates to Al Qaeda central that they are not dead.”

Now imagine if the reports had not played into just this narrative. The Al Qaeda does not need the media to let it know what its members and allies are doing. The organisation is well-oiled and has its antenna up. What we are witnessing — the 39 dead people and 150 injured will be forgotten — is one more version of monopoly.

Dan Stackhouse, a commenter from New York City, sort of revealed the subtext:"Kenya is an old ally of America, not to mention Britain and other major powers. It would be hypocrisy if we did not aid them in their fight against the shabab in Somalia. For now we can do nothing about al-Assad's terrorism in Syria, but we can and should do something about this."

This is not a quid pro quo. Helplessness over inability to 'do' something in Syria should not seek replacement. The old idea of allies too does not work anymore. Besides, the power equations are different. (Not to forget that Britain ruled over Kenya.)

At this time, we need to spare a thought for those who are killed everyday for some vague idea — of faith, of political expediency, of just muscle power. We need to spare a thought also for Somalia. There are Somalians who live an honest life. They are not terrorists.

One has to only be exposed to lands where terrorists live to understand how desperate the ordinary people are, and how victimised they too can be... if not by bullets, then by branding.

© Farzana Versey

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All quotes from The New York Times

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Update

The issue of highlighting race is again evident in new findings. As reported:

The Foreign Office is investigating suggestions that a female British terror suspect nicknamed the "White Widow" could have been linked to the plot. Witness accounts have suggested a woman was among the attackers, fuelling speculation that Samantha Lewthwaite, who was married to 7/7 bomber Jermaine Lindsay, was involved.

She is wanted by Kenyan police over links to a suspected terrorist cell planning bomb attacks.In March 2012, it was reported that Lewthwaite, 29, originally from Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire, had fled across the border from Kenya to Somalia.

27.5.11

Oprah's Divine Comedy: Winfrey the Pooh




Winfrey the Pooh 
Oprah’s Divine Comedy
by Farzana Versey
Counterpunch, May 27-29 


They were discussing thighs. The woman was wearing a blue garish printed veil, the uncovered face revealed a touch of kohl in her dark eyes. She was telling her host that what Moroccan men are most attracted to in women are thighs – they like them thick. The Oprah Winfrey show was now not a secret watch in parts of the Arab world; she was hosting it there. As the young woman held forth, Oprah went on a relentless examination of a part of the female anatomy. It was obvious she thought she was breaking some barrier when thighs, men, women and ideas about pulchritude have existed since the existence of civilisation.

Oprah is about breaking imagined barriers.

She has bid farewell to the show after 25 years. What sustained it for this long? Much of what was revealed is what we hear in everyday life, what we experience and what we don’t. Yet, using these same ideas she created an alterative universe. However real the reality in her shows was it was reality amplified by auto-suggestion.

A more comprehensive reading would suggest that the show could be divided into three main ideas.


Cornucopia:

Excessiveness was an important part of the exercise. Laughter and tears were loud and flowing. There would be distended stomachs, bruises more purple than prose. As in Roman feasts, where people went on an eating binge and then vomited to start feasting again, true stories were retched out. Humorist Josh Billings’ take is apt here: “As scarce as truth is, the supply has always been in excess of the demand.”

Without the abundance, there would have been a need for the core. Oprah was about the circuitous route; the essence lay in the maze.

Her personality lent itself rather well to such profligacy, from her girth to the big hair, the big heart, the large camaraderie. But, her projection of little people in fact showed up their littleness. Their foibles and warts were huge as compared to their personalities. They were here in the Confession Box. The studio had an almost-church like atmosphere where the host played priest and choir girl by turns, until the Moses-like denouement.

She did pretty outlandish things, was outspoken, and dressed the part. It camouflaged the traditionalist inside her. It made her craving for infallibility as self-conscious as her vulnerability: “Though I am grateful for the blessings of wealth, it hasn’t changed who I am. My feet are still on the ground. I’m just wearing better shoes.”

And those better shoes came from many a soiled feet that entered the hallowed show. She appeared to tell them that they could do it, but would they have that opportunity?


Dystopia:

Misery was flaunted on the red carpet and posed for the cameras – its couture more discussed than its merits. People on the Oprah show seemed to regurgitate the deviant without owning them. There was a disconnect between the teller and the telling. Even if none of it was stage-managed, one could decipher an element of training, of being ushered into a hall of shame in hushed whispers. It is not difficult for people to sense what is expected. While for the ordinary person this seemed like a purging of evil, an exorcism, celebrities were given to believe that this would humanise them.


There was no mirror more qualified than Oprah. At the grand finale she said: “But I’m truly amazed that I, who started out in rural Mississippi in 1954, when the vision for a black girl was limited to being either a maid or a teacher in a segregated school, could end up here. It is no coincidence that a lonely little girl who felt not a lot of love, even though my parents and grandparents did the best they could – it is no coincidence that I grew up to feel genuine kindness, affection, validation and trust from millions of you all over the world. From you whose names I will never know, I learned what love is. You and this show have been the great love of my life.”

This is true, but most of the recognition talks about her blackness: the first black billionaire, the greatest black philanthropist, the richest African-American of the 20th century. Has black society altered and has the perception about blacks changed? The ‘teacher-segregated school’ is also what the Oprah Winfrey show is about. There was this bubble of sorrow and with every pinprick of a query it would burst. The sorrow would not disappear because it wasn’t there in the first place. The internalisation was left untouched. The balm and the gauze were for this bubble that settled like dew. The show worked as well as faith-healing, people limping back to normal and basking in the warmth of the arc lights and then out in the cold holding on to their crutches. Art had imitated life, but not limited it.

The simulation analogy can be best explained in the totalitarian philosophy as expounded by George Orwell: “It not only forbids you to express – even to think – certain thoughts, but it dictates what you shall think, it creates an ideology for you, it tries to govern your emotional life as well as setting up a code of conduct. And as far as possible it isolates you from the outside world, it shuts you up in an artificial universe in which you have not standards of comparison.”

Oprah had set herself up as a role model, when the millions who were with her were like the Beatles acolytes were for John Lennon. He was one of them but he remained Lennon. She employed the classic Lennon anthem as her modus operandi: Imagine.


Utopia:

Is imagining about hope or about despair? Had there been happy stories, then the Oprah show would have wound up long ago. It is important to ask here whether the hates/loves/desires that dare not take their name have brought about any change. Iconoclasm is a much-abused term. The populist need not be iconoclastic. A show may be a hit, but what kind of impact does it have, has it altered the way people think, feel?

One cannot state that, “Oh, this was just a TV show.” It was not. It became a cult, and cults have some responsibility. Oprah did what she could, but it was the Big O, a few seconds of happy numbness. She treated her staff well, she took her audience on holidays. These are freebies. The stereotype of the Mamma. The world is full of varied ideas and varied behaviour, so it is disconcerting that she did not push the envelope, except when stuffing it with a few dollar bills to assuage guilt and express gratitude.


In fact, archetypes were trussed up and embarrassingly displayed. The brazen wore little and the demure played their part. The obsession with the body only consolidated set views even if they were to debunk them. Alternative sexuality was given the worst possible treatment when she invited an ‘Indian prince’ who is out of the closet. He came in regal finery that he has no right to as a representative of India, which has done away with royalty. The gall of having someone in a position of power, however titular, to convey the views of the gay community was such an Oprah thing to do. You cannot just be a misery maven, you’ve got to lay it thick and be king.

She had a banquet but offered fast food. This was part of the show’s attraction. The host knew what she was doing, even if some of it was subliminal. A broken soul, broken self-worth, fighting for convictions – these brought fear, a persecution complex and arrogance. The arrogance of humility: “What we’re all striving for is authenticity, a spirit-to-spirit connection.”

A spiritual connection does not look for authenticity, which is tied to the strings of dynamic facts and changing alliances within the mainstream. You cannot talk about the facetiousness of fame when you are a product of such evanescent celebrity. It is not the legitimisation that makes for icons but the potential of returning to their ruthless roots. Winfrey did attempt that, but by default, by just blowing up the cocoon a bit more. She reached the world and out at the world, yet her confinement was narrower than it appears. “There is one expanding horror in American life,” believed Norman Mailer, that cogent chronicler of the American’s internal dilemma. “It is that our long odyssey toward liberty, democracy and freedom-for-all may be achieved in such a way that utopia remains forever closed, and we live in freedom and hell, debased of style, not individual from one another, void of courage, our fear rationalized away.”

Such fears on the show were stamped and sealed like factory-produced wares. The potency was in the reaction to the pinch and the pitch. She took the ready-made material and gave it a new language and identity. Pop analysis tends to label such people revolutionaries when all they do is to recreate. To continue with it for a quarter of a century is commendable, but not impossible. That is why Oprah Winfrey will be remembered as a fine juggler, not a magician.

6.5.11

Gold Retrievers



I dislike gold, yellow gold. A touch would do, but when I see ornaments glittering as though they own the sun I am revolted. I love the good things and do own a few. It is just that pure yellow gold looks crass, like rags being burned to start a fire.

Indians love not only to wear a lot of it but also to collect it as investment. So, today, on the occasion of Akshaya Tritiya, it was not the spirit of giving and rejuvenation embodied in its moorings that mattered but the bullion market and jewellery stores.

I admit I have some fond memories of such shops. When I was a child, it was always made-to-order jewellery and weddings in the family meant visits to the stores, selecting designs, arguing with the man about ‘making charges’. These were fun expeditions mainly because of the occasion and the post-shopping food. Stories about gold dust on the roads of Zaveri bazaar being gathered by urchins were related.

I had no gold except for a small pair of ear-rings to ensure that the pierced ears did not get blocked. There were times when such ear-rings got robbed and one was warned about mesmerisers. “Don’t talk to any stranger in the bus,” I was warned. I did not know that thieves chatted with you before doing away with the loot, and loot it hardly was.

Later, the face of the shops changed. The guards appraised you and the doors seemed to be less inviting. Plush carpets on the floor, nicely-upholstered chairs you sat in and were catered to by tie-wearing salesmen and women who talked about ‘Italian style’ and “Greco-Roman finish”. I went to one and in an attempt at getting chatty one of them complimented me on my bracelet. She said, “That is soooo beeeoootifool, looks like Cart-here (Cartier). We make exact copies.” I told her it was fake, bought off the street. I lied, but it stopped her Cart-here rant. Incidentally, the swish set often filch brochures from designer boutiques abroad and get the local jeweller to make replicas.

Although we started making readymade purchases, we still went to the old store. The son was now in charge and he figured out soon enough that I wanted everything to look minimalistic. It is wonderful that white gold has caught the fancy of a few, although I still prefer silver and since I do not attend most celebratory events I like my wood, shell and bead trinkets.
He also told me about ‘hollow gold’ where the patterns are intricate, it looks dressy, but is filled with some other lighter metal. It had little value but gold is about making an impression and there are many takers for such deceit, especially those wanting to give presents.

I don’t know if on an auspicious occasion people would want to indulge in this sort of betrayal. About 50,000 couples will get married today because it is believed that you don’t need any other good stars shining upon you on this day, a problem that Indians have about making sure that everything is aligned in the skies for what happens down below. It is also supposed to be a great day to start any venture. Everyone wants to prosper, but is that not about how we achieve things or view success itself? How would buying a new car bring prosperity when fuel prices rise each day and the roads are bumpy? You start a business but you have to work hard to keep it going.

I understand the need to hold on to something, even if it is yellow coins, but they do not take you anywhere. You need feet for that. And maybe glass slippers!

28.11.09

Getting your goat

Irony could not get more amusing. Today is Eid al-adha. Pricey animals are just another means to flash money. Muslims sacrifice a goat (or in some countries cow or camel) to symbolise the sacrifice made for Allah. I won’t bore you with the details. The link has more information.

As symbols go, one can have no quarrel although I do believe that we need to understand that what was a message at one time has got to be internalised.

Today’s papers mentioned about this goat called Khusi (happiness) who is going for Rs 21 lakh. The owner is not a Muslim and he had planned to sell the animal to the slaughter house months ago, but the potential buyer refused to butcher Khusi because he has some pattern on his black body that resembles the symbol '786' in Arabic and there is also some crescent moon formation.

That butcher probably felt that he would bring holy wrath upon himself. Now, things have changed. Buyers want this fellow badly. Imagine being able to flaunt a sacrifice that is so expensive. This goes completely against the spirit of what was intended. If something is so sacrosanct then how are they willing to go ahead and kill it? Will they preserve the hide and frame it with the holy words?

Naturally, the seller knows he has got a golden goat and he is waiting for the amount to reach over Rs. 51 lakh. I don’t blame him. I also respect the butcher who refused to buy the beast. It is the wealthy sacrificers, the ones who think they are following god’s dictates, who need to get their heads examined. If we go by the faith, then they ought to sacrifice their own children and only then will god spare them. But can we expect that? Anyone who can afford this much, would have kids who wouldn’t care and just Google the details. Symbols remain just that.

The other aspect in a country like India is that due to several faiths and communal riots at the sight of cows and pigs near places of worship, this becomes one more opportunity for a ‘tense situation’. I’d find this laughable had it not been so worrisome. Animals are slaughtered everyday for consumption and it is by Christians, Hindus, Parsis, Sikhs. Heck, butter chicken is not a Muslim speciality and the Malayalees also have meat dosas. So, this sudden concern by people of other faiths for animals is a bit precious.

Besides, animal sacrifices are common in some Hindu temples. Certain cults also perform human sacrifices. Real babies are killed due to superstition, sometimes for the silly reason of increasing virility if you drank the baby’s blood.

We are, for all the aggressiveness, becoming more and more impotent because those who need to be heard are silenced. Charlatans and totems work on minds too numbed by rituals – and these days such rituals are also politicised. Religion is far from anyone’s mind.

Yup, Eid Mubarak and may we all learn that if we want a ticket to heaven then don’t make life hellish here.