SETTING ASIDE PRIVACY

In Dadar, at the heart of the city, stands a 73-year-old building where privacy is unheard of.

 Walk through its corridors and you notice wide open doors; a man sleeping next to the stairs on the second floor landing, men sitting in the passageway playing cards; women making garlands in the same dimly-lit passage. And all the while, these people barely give you a second, suspicious glance. Inspite of you being a complete stranger and it being midnight.

 The paucity of space in the one room-kitchen houses of this building means that the passages outside the houses have become part of the house for these families that have lived here for over 2 generations. And while the passages serve as the living room, the terrace becomes the common bedroom. For, every night the families of this building sleep side by side on the terrace, their places marked by an unwritten code, a thin sheet of cloth being the mattress and the starlit sky acting as a ceiling.

 And yes. Despite the wide ajar doors, despite people sleeping on the terrace together – voyeurism and perversion find no place in their ethos. Despite men and women of all ages, from too many families sleeping on the same bare floor under the same ‘roof’. Hasn’t any untoward incident ever happened, I ask. ‘Never,’ says my friend who’s lived there all his life, surprised at the question.

 No wonder then, this is one of those rare buildings in Mumbai where neighbour-phobia has been firmly weeded out.

A TEETOTALLER’S TALE

ON the second day of that wretched three day dry spell imposed on the state due to the Ayodhya verdict, a tiny bar at Nariman Point opens its door covertly to customers. But with a catch. The tables in the bar are back to their positions but the seats aren’t. The few customers present when I and a few colleagues reach there aren’t sitting. They stand.

The logic, as a senior colleague explains, is simple. ‘The drinks finish faster when you’re standing,’ he says smiling. And the faster they finish their drinks, the better. I wouldn’t argue with the logic. Not when the Govt imposes a three day dry period as a ‘preventive measure’. You know, because sober people (and the people who stock up alcohol for dry days at home) don’t riot. OR maybe I’ve had one Sprite too many.

COMMONSENSE AND COMMONWEALTH DON’T GO HAND IN HAND

Somewhere in August, when news reports of  toilet paper costing Rs. 3575 a roll and rented treadmills costing Rs. 9 lakh a piece started playing out on TV screens most Indians probably said to themselves ‘All politicians are corrupt’.

On August 31, when India missed the 4^th deadline for the completion of the stadiums, the stock response used was ‘We are like this only’.

In the month that followed, hell broke loose. A terrorist attack, bridge collapse and a botched Games anthem later, the common man decided to change the channel muttering to himself ‘The media are like this only. One negative issue and they sensationalise it for a month.’

A week later when he switched on the channel again there was some firang on his TV, obviously someone important, but he was criticizing the way India was handling the Games (Read questioning India’s capability to host an international event). This inclusion of foreign hand into the picture provoked knee jerk patriotism like the country had never seen before. It was Us v/s Them now. ‘India’s pride was at stake’ he thundered on whatever social networking site he was active on. E-mails were composed, letters were written to editors of newspapers. Some smart ass even used sanitized pictures of the CWG stadiums to prove that the media was ‘wrong!’ and posted them on Facebook along with snapshots of A.P.J. Abdul Kalam’s speech to the nation asking to be positive yada yada… ‘India’s pride is at stake’, the common man urged to whoever would listen. ‘Let’s make this a success. Let’s shut those open moths!’ 

An eternal optimist was created that day — one living in a cocoon with walls made of leakproof denial ad patriotism. And lo! Things started seeming rosy again.

The media, probably sensing a change in the mood, decided to focus on the positives. One dark-circled news anchor asked the nation if it was time to concentrate on the athletes. The Games venues were declared fantastic. Not much was said about Indian athletes being forced to practice elsewhere thereby reducing the ‘home advantage’.

One media channel, however, refused to let go. ‘The Games are spoiling India’s image’ was the plot. ‘Should India CANCEL the Games’ they wondered aloud in a bid to stand out. Two hyperventilating ‘experts’ made sure they did. The fact that canceling the Games would permanently dent the image of the nation was conveniently ignored. So was the fact that India would have to pay a hefty fine.

The foreign athletes still complained about trivial issues like nagging wives. But Lalit Bhanot shut them up with something about subjectivity of hygiene.

Then came the moment every Indian worth his lacto-calamined skin would be proud of. THE OPENING CEREMONY. Many of them saw it. Most of them loved it. All of them talked about it.

The smug patriot claimed victory by the virtue of the country hosting a successful Opening Ceremony. The war had ended. Pride had been salvaged. And then, probably too tired due to over exerting his patriotism, he went on a vacation. Probably spent Rs. 200 to see Rajnikant in Robot running faster than bullets or shooting ten guns at a time or other escapist stuff like. Or maybe saw (gulp!) Anjana Anjani, or Khichdi.

Amid all this, no one noticed the athlete. No one noticed Anisa Sayyed who created a CWG record in front of half-empty stands at the Karni Singh shooting range. It doesn’t matter if her middle class family mortgaged ornaments to keep her in the sport. It doesn’t matter that every pellet she shot for the past 5 years cost Rs. 22.

These athletes who are medal winners one day are being relegated to mere statistics the next day itself. A statistic for the greedy politician to pass off as a personal achievement. ‘I told you this will be the Best Games Ever.’ A statistic for the smug optimist to feel proud about. After all, ‘we won 60 medals this year’ (hopefully). So what if both won’t remember most of the medal winner’s names in about a week.

The stadiums were half empty. No one bothered with DD Sports. Or if they did, they probably changed channels wondering, ‘Why isn’t cricket included in CWG?’

And what happens to the athlete? Well, he probably goes back to his/her day job as a railway clerk. Or if you are Anisa Sayyed, who’s won two gold medals by now, you’d look for a new job because railways didn’t let you transfer to Delhi to practice shooting and had to quit. Home ground advantage, anyone? National pride?

Probably in a year or two, the athlete would be disillusioned and will quit for greener pastures like MBA (remember Viren Rasquinha?). When that happens, what happens to national pride, eh?

‘Arre yaar gimme a break. I didn’t watch any sport but the Games were successful na!’

Yes. Half empty stadiums and Games were successful. Or as Kalmadi puts it ‘World Class’. Go figure.

We should try for the Olympics now. So that we can again remodel the Jawaharlal Nehru stadium at a cost of RS. 961 crores and have another splendid opening ceremony there. ‘We are like this only’. Why?

PUN INVENTED

The Planning Commission has accepted the Tendulkar Committee report which holds 37 per cent of people in India below the poverty line.However, The Arjun Sengupta report says 77 per cent of Indians live on less than Rs 20 a day while the N C Saxena Committee report had said 50 per cent of people live below poverty. The fact above is a middle ground, hence has been taken from the N C Saxena report.

For a complete article, check P Sainath's blog.

SUB PLOTS

GOD, FORSAKEN

"SATAN MADE ME DO THIS, I SWEAR!"

He was born on Friday, the 13th. And as if on cue or maybe taking offence to this obvious provocation, fate took a special liking to him. His troubles were not a consequence of human malice but of a higher conspiracy of nature — so much so, that there could be no plausible explanation to most of what befell him; although certainly none of it was arbitrary.
The day of his birth was probably where it all started — and for anyone who knew better, that should have been the day where it all ended. Alas! The newborn had no way of knowing, did He?
For the sake of clarity allow me to explain.
He was destined to be a God — a product arising from the union of the Universe’s first couple. His birth was prophesied by seers and the holy books. But apparently, fate had a mind of its on — one that frequently gave in to whims and would succumb to an impulse to roll up its sleeves and punch our Protagonist below the belt.
For, on the day of his birth, his mother miraculously produced another baby from her womb — one that would out-race our protagonist by a couple of hours and it were these hours that relegated our much-prophesied hero to an after-thought of sorts.
The world, he was to learn the hard way, could only accommodate one God at a time and his twin brother was to fill in those Royal boots — although not simply because of his first-born status.
The Gods are born to rule and not to be ruled. Our Protagonist, by virtue of His untimely birth, found Himself to be a direct contradiction to the Holy laws that could not be altered to accommodate anyone —more so, a redundant Prince. The consequences of His birth were to last Him a lifetime.
By now, I assume the reader has firmly grounded himself into the story. So, I shall delve deeper.
Fate, obviously relishing the role of a glorified mid-wife, continued giving our Protagonist only rotten lemons — ones that no matter how hard He tried wouldn’t yield to become decent lemonade.
Even as our Hero made the much sought after journey from the womb to the cradle, his father had handed over the Empire to Rufus (the first-born twin) in the first look itself — despite the vehement protestations of our Protagonist who came out kicking and screaming. Yet, his first impression found no takers. A general myopia seemed to have descended over the world — one so severe that it would ensure that the masses have eyes only for RUFUS — the one who inherited not only the throne but also the hereditary baggage.
Our protagonist, unimaginatively or (to be frank) uninterestedly named DITTO was treated like an uninvited gate crasher for the rest of his unfortunate life. In fact, Ditto could have cocooned himself in his mother’s womb firmly refusing to come out and no one would notice. No, not even the queasy mother who was too busy cooing over the handsome features of her first born.
It was only after a few hours, when Ditto set out to mark his territory, that the exultant parents realized that they had a problem of surplus. You see, Ditto, by the very fact of his existence, had made the pyramid of aristocracy top-heavy. And, aristocrats seldom bother themselves with concepts like equality. That explains the names, RUFUS: befitting a king and DITTO: an after-thought. Talk about beginners luck!
But wait, there’s more. The prophets and seers, their prophesy about the birth of A prince so rudely upturned by the apparition of two kids in the holy womb, vowed revenge and got it instantly for they claimed that it was Satan’s handiwork because only Satan could have hoodwinked their inner eye and that this unforeseen addition in the holy womb was a perverse joke by Satan. To add injury to insult, Ditto lacked an Adam’s apple — an aspect that was to conclusively sound the death knell on Ditto’s ambitions. Lesser mortals like us would quickly dismiss the absence of an Adam’s apple as banal or superfluous but for the Gods it was a matter of prime importance. It was considered becoming of a God to have a well-endowed Adam’s apple — their scriptures said so. And here were a pair of twins who were a mirror image of each other except for a pointy Adam’s apple.
The king, perhaps aware of the presence of His own genes in this ‘anomaly-of-a-son’ and how poorly it would reflect on Himself, downplayed the eccentricities of His ‘other’ offspring. Both were treated equally, at least for the benefit of the public.
And at this point, Ditto’s life was to have its first happy ending albeit a temporary one since, you must be aware, misery repeats itself. Ditto’s life was screwed because of Fate’s denial to mind its own business.
And after this, ladies and gentlemen, the plot sickens.
And to be honest, I don’t want to delve further into the unfortunate orgy of events that befell Ditto. But you get the drift.
Ditto was to live His life in utter translucence, which was convenient for everybody concerned. In fact, He soon started referring to himself in third person thereby trying to distance himself from the curse upon his life. His ego had been dented so badly that he could no longer look into the mirror and think of himself. Instead he thought of his older twin — the heir apparent. And there, Fate got its moral victory over its provocateur. The coup was complete.

IGNORANCE and BLISS: A VENN Diagram

JUST INJEST

DISCLAIMER: ALMOST ALL DETAILS IN THE FOLLOWING “NEWS REPORTS” ARE A FIGMENT OF MY IMAGINATION AND HAVE BEEN EXAGGERATED TO TITILATE THE READERS. NO OFFENCE TO ANYONE BEING WRITTEN ABOUT HERE.

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HEAD: TIWARI QUITS POST; OFFERED BRAND AMBASSADOR’S JOB

COPY: A.P Governor N.D.Tiwari, 84, has resigned after he was found in bed with 3 women in a compromising position. A source close to Tiwari claimed that Tiwari often complained of “being very lonesome at nights”. However, in a positive development, a leading Shilajit company has approached him to be their brand ambassador. A spokesperson for the brand said that they had been long searching for a ‘macho’ personality to associate with their brand. In Tiwari they seem to have struck two distinct qualities- a phallic urge to experiment and a seasoned veteran of many ‘lonely’ battles.

***

HEAD: RAKHI SAWANT DONATES IMPLANTS FOR RAISING AWARENESS

COPY: Rakhi Sawant has decided to permanently end her partnership with her trusted aides and has taken the first step to being “all natural”. The pictures of Sawant proudly showing off her unreal assets, a souvenir that adorns millions of screen savers worldwide, is now only a grim remainder of the Sawant of old. On being asked the reason behind the move, Sawant claimed that it was aimed at creating awareness for breast cancer and the move was inspired by a recent Facebook campaign for the same cause. On the day this news was reported by the mainstream media, the stock market crashed 465 points under mysterious circumstances. Stock analysts are yet to establish a conclusive link between the two busts.

In other Rakhi Sawant news, Sawant has also admitted to having sent her clean under-linen to the censor board to protest against their move to censor certain words in a song that she features in. She claimed to be ‘inspired’ by last year’s Pink Chaddi campaign.

***

HEAD: AVIKA GOR’S AWARD RAISES ZOOZOO HOPES

COPY: Avika Gor, the female protagonist of the nation’s favourite “Balika Vadhu” has been awarded the Rajiv Gandhi child prodigy award for her acting. The Vodafone zoozoos were understandably upset at losing out this year and one of them claimed that giving away the award to Gor has “hurt their sentiments”. The zoozoos, however, are a spirited bunch and displaying firm faith in Providence said that they will raise the bar this year and try harder for the award.

***

HEAD: NAKED ZOOZOOS OUTRAGE NATION’S MODESTY

COPY: Hundreds of workers of a political party barged into the offices of Ogilvy and Mather in Mumbai and smashed some tables and windows. The party claimed that O&M’s zoozoo ads were a “vulgar depiction of the human body that went against the Indian culture”. The party also presented the ad agency traditional saris to cover up the female zoozoos and give an Indian touch to the ads.

A few weeks earlier, the office of O&M was attacked by a different political party claiming that the “white” zoozoos were “playing on Indian insecurities” and “reinforcing fairness as an ideal”. The zoozoos seemed defiant but this reporter could not be sure owing to a language barrier. However, the words “soft target” could be heard distinctly amongst all the frantic protests.

***

HEAD: AGEING MAYAWATI STATUES CONFUSE STATE

COPY: The pollution in and around the state of Uttar Pradesh seems to have taken a toll on Mayawati’s statues. Many observers of the state of UP have claimed that the statues are not only turning “darker” but also seem to be “ageing at a considerable pace”. These independent observers also stated that the living conditions of these statues will reflect poorly on the state and the present Government. A full fledged investigation has been launched by the state police to probe if political sabotage is the reason. However, until the cause and the culprits are found the UP Govt. has ordered a million bottles of Olay Total Effects as a stop gap solution after watching an ad featuring filmstar Kajol.

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HEAD: SWINE FLU DEADLIER THAN ANTHRAX: AL QAEDA

COPY: After many years of staying silent in the face of repeated US allegations, Al Qaeda today has come out in the strong defense of Iraq’s slain leader Saddam Hussein. A leader of the organization claimed that the biological warfare that Saddam and other religious extremists were accused of waging had caused fewer casualties than the swine flu epidemic that hit the world last year. The leader, who could not be identified, also blamed USA and Mexico for spreading the epidemic to the world. The leader also threatened the Western World with dire consequences if they tried to spread Swine Flu to Afghanistan or other Arabic countries.

***

HEAD: TV CHANNEL EXPOSES ALIENS

COPY: After stating that the demand and prices of sugar was likely to come down in the following years due to diabetes, Union Agriculture minister Sharad Pawar has said that the price of milk is likely to rise in the coming months. The reason behind this rise was not disclosed to the media.

However, in another fine example of investigative reporting, IndiaTV has exposed what could be the real reason for the scarcity of milk in the country. The following are some exclusive tv grabs from the channel.

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THAT’S ALL FOLKS!!!

Relapse

“Stop. I can’t bear it anymore. I’m gonna fall. Move in. Please, stop pushing,” a man yelled at the top of his voice. He stood at the door and addressed no one in particular. I wondered what was wrong with him. The man suddenly collapsed on the floor as if hit on the chest by some force. I moved near to help him. He wouldn’t stir. I wondered if he was dead. He couldn’t be. Loud voices were coming from elsewhere. I got up and started walking towards the voices. A group of men stood in the center of another room. The mood was angry-inexplicably so. They thought someone had stolen their hard earned money. They were sure they had been duped.

“I want my money back,” one screamed.

“Me too. I trusted them. I gave it to them,” another joined in.

Then all hell broke loose. Everyone was fuming. They wanted their money-hook or crook. I wondered what this place was. Had the world gone insane? Was humanity falling apart?

A hand grabbed me by my neck.

“Are you God?” He had kept a knife on my neck. I looked into his eyes and I knew I would soon be dead. No voice came out. I barely managed to shake my head. He left me and caught another man’s neck instead. Only this time he slit it and laughed as blood gushed out. By then I was paranoid. People here would kill me for no reason whatsoever. I sank to my knees. I didn’t want to see anyone else.

Suddenly, out of nowhere a mob emerged. They lifted me to my feet.

Their question was fairly simple. “Hindu ya Muslim?”

Then one of them pointed at my beard. “Muslim, Muslim,” he cried.

They circled me. I was like a sitting duck. Before I could say something blows fell on me. I couldn’t see anything. I put my arms on my head and fell on the ground. They were relentless. Some kicked, some yelled abuses. There was blood on the ground-it was mine. I couldn’t breathe. I was going to die. Surely this was my end. I gasped for breath.

I found myself sitting on my bed and yelling as loud as I could. Sweat poured from my body. My eyes were open and yet all I could see was an uncomfortable blackness. All I could hear was my own voice. I was alone. I heard my door open. Lights were switched on and two men in similar white clothes walked in. I yelled harder. They would kill me. I knew it.

“Shut him up,” one of them said “or he’ll wake up the others.”

“What does it take to have a peaceful night around here?” the second one said looking at me in disgust.

In a few minutes I felt at ease. My head felt lighter. The lights were switched off again. Silence returned. I slept peacefully- until the next day.