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Things I’ve Wanted to Rant About….

29 Jan

…but didn’t know where to start. The WTFness of the world has shot through the roof right about when I don’t have the time or the bandwidth to go on a verbal dharna. Not that my vicious teeth-grinding changes the course of the planets, so it’s just as well that this remains limited to brief bullet points:

  • The Dutts, ‘Mr. and Mrs’. Waste of space, waste of time. I hope Lucknow kicks his criminal ass. We’ll see how long the wife leech hangs around.

  • The Rai-Bachchan. Or Padma Shrimati, as the grown woman giggles. To have a credit card version of a human being (flat and plastic) receive the nation’s premier civilian award with utter disregard to bronze-winning Olympians makes me a very ashamed Indian. And I’m not even going anywhere near the subject of booty-swinging, cleavage-flashing Helen, supposedly deserving of a national honor for the worthwhile legacy she’s left in her bubble-butted wake. Quick, who’s next? Emraan Hashmi? Shakti Kapoor? Aaaooo would be my very appropriate response. I can’t think of better catharsis than baying at the moon.

  • The Mangalore moral police who protected women’s honor by assaulting them and depriving them of the rights a sovereign, socialist, democratic nation assures them of. Who says there’s a Karnataka-Maharashtra feud? They’re swapping furtive cross-border notes on pious guardian-hood, for sure, for sure.

  • The rabble-rousing cowards also known as MNS. After public barbs temporarily silenced them in the aftermath of 26/11, they’re back with a new target and the same hackneyed agenda that is transparent enough to walk through blindfolded. Karachi Sweets now sours their unschooled minds. If only they hadn’t played all that hooky when they had a chance at an education, they’d have known that history can’t be painted over and re-inscribed in Marathi.

  • The Baap of Bullies, the Godfather of Goondagardi, the original Papasan of Parochialism: the Sena. Yes, we know Bombay doesn’t have many open spaces for the youth to get their regular exercise. 5-star hotel lobbies and kitchens however, are not fair game to flex frustrated muscles. (Didn’t their mamma teach them not to play with their food?) A gentle suggestion to our ungentle buffoons: We have a beautiful sea. Feel free to swim. And DROWN.

  • Damien got an early start and the MNVS is taking a chapter out of his book. Not content to wait until full-time rowdyism beckons, this student wing of our stellar MNS has swung into the local front pages for their sound logic, exercised so aptly in the halls of highest learning. “The security staff person was rude to us and so we vandalized the Registrar’s office.” But of course. Who has the time to confront lowly grenade-toting terrorists? We train our sights on antique desks.

  • While we’re condemning the brawn brigade, I don’t mind confessing I’d like to do some swatting of my own. At the top of my everyday list would be parents who send their children to school with viral fever so their 3-year-old doesn’t miss out on a whole 2-hour school day and falls behind on the accelerated learning curve that goes with all the sand play and singing. Never mind that the other children, their teachers and the Vice Principal are infected and hacking half to death.

In case you were wondering, yes, this is what PMS feels like. GRR.

An OJ Hot and Sweaty

16 Jan

Hah. Knew the title would get the stampeding hordes here. The hit rate on this post went up even before I clicked publish. But now that you’ve made it, stay. And listen to this:

The marathon this Sunday? I’m going to be there. A speck among a million Mumbaikars, resembling the mango that is the color of my tee. Walking for Ummeed and India Helps.  I’m no different in my intentions. I feel the same way as the rest of my team. So I’ll leave clearer voices to speak for me while I limber up and flex my fingers to sign the slew of autographs you’re going to beg of me.

Only on one condition, of course. Read about the two causes close to my heart. One an old faithful bond, the other a deeply cherished newborn association. Come Sunday, the legs will pitch in. And hopefully, bring us helping hands in their wake.

And Bombay, my beloved Bombay, she’ll shine, shine, shine.

More Rich Bitches

14 Jan

So you thought I was done expounding on the issue of resentment toward the privileged?

You’re right. I was.

But some very articulate folks aren’t, the Lord be praised, and here’s what they have to say:

Amrita from Indiquill:

Any and every attack on one’s country and fellow citizens is shocking and upsetting, no matter who the perpetrators or what the cause might be. There is no part of the country that is “okay” to be attacked. And yet the scale of our reaction to these attacks is very different. As a lot of people have pointed out, some of them on this very blog, the Mumbai attacks, while shocking, are not unprecedented in terms of style. They’re been all the rage in Kashmir for quite a while now, for instance.

So why haven’t I ever felt quite as strongly about those attacks? They too were outrages perpetrated against Indian citizens on Indian soil and dealt with by the Indian army.

Short answer? Because I don’t feel about Kashmir the way I do about Mumbai.

If you do, then good for you, but I don’t. I’m very sorry, but there’re certain parts of India of which I’m more fond than others. These tend to be places that I have visited or places that I intend to visit someday. Kashmir, thus far, is not on that list. I feel like a traitor for saying that because it’s Kashmir, you know, and I grew up in an age where you had to be rabidly invested in Kashmir’s status in the Indian union, but that’s precisely why I have such different feelings for Mumbai vs. Kashmir.


…………….


Izzy from Audacious:

But last month as I watched the Taj burn on TV, my world fell apart. My blood is intrinsically connected to Colaba. A lot of it has to do with the fact that I get to gawk at a lot of rich people, everybody speaks Hindi with an accent and it’s the only place in the world I get confectionery which I can multiple orgasm over and then dance a Mexican Hat Dance while waving a glass of cold coffee over my head while shouting “I’MMA GONNA MARRY THISA PLACA.” A lot of it has to do with the fact that when my mother was busy treating me like the illegitimate child that my dad went and had on their honeymoon while she had to clean up cat poo for three weeks, Colaba was the fat lady next door who baked me cookies and showed me glittery things and kept me distracted. Colaba was the best friend who stayed up all night to hear me sob, Colaba was the boyfriend who hid me in his room till I could sneak out early in the morning.

Colaba took away my home and with it my three days of a childhood spiralled up like coloured bits of paper in the billowing smoke. I guess we have strange ways of growing up.

………….


Salman Rushdie on Arundhati Roy’s disparaging remarks about the iconic status of the Taj:

I thought that particular remark in her piece was disgusting. The idea that the deaths of the rich don’t matter because they are rich is disgusting. The idea that 12 members of the Taj staff who heroically gave their lives to save many of the guests are to be discounted because they are, presumably, lackeys of the rich—this is nauseating. This is amoral. She should be ashamed of herself.

Okay? Okay. NOW I’m done.

Sail for Peace

23 Dec

…is the name of the effort I was part of this afternoon. And oh what a chore it was! Clad in a Baywatch-red life jacket, I hopped aboard a snazzy, all-white-and-chrome speedboat manned by a cute Ozzie sailor that whisked me off to a little private sailboat with 5 of my friends and family. We took in the sights of the Bombay harbor, chomped on chicken rolls, quiches and brownies, gazed lovingly at the Taj and attempted to imagine how the terrorists could possibly have sailed up to this gorgeous city and wanted to annihilate her.

Aquasail India, the company started by India’s first gold medallist on international waters, has come up with an interesting way to help the families of the 14 Mumbai police officers who died in the line of duty during the 26/11 terror attack. All proceeds from cruise bookings this week go directly toward the said policemen’s fund. I am unable to answer specific questions as I was a guest on this expedition and the info-mail I was to receive hasn’t made an appearance, but (see details below) you can contact them through their website or call one of their skippers– Abhishek– at 9969372914 and they’ll be happy to help you.

If you’re interested, make a trip sooner rather than later, because this offer’s on only for a week.  And honestly, I can’t think of a more enjoyable, relaxed way to reach out to my city.

More efforts, of course, continue here. And we’ve only just begun.

…….

Edited to add: Received the Aquasail e-flyer this morning. Am posting a relevant excerpt.

The team at Aquasail felt that we need to do something with boats and sailing to make a statement, to sail beyond, to tide us over this feeling of sadness. As we talked about this we thought about what to do involving all of you who share with us a love for Mumbai and its amazing spirit as well as a love for the sea and all that it means to us. Why not use our boats for people to come together in a way that would be positive, bring in energy and revive a sense of hope?

And from this came the idea of a Sail For Peace & Freedom From Fear. . To use our boats to raise funds, help those affected in a small way and demonstrate a spirit free from fear. So join us for a sail for Peace & Freedom from Fear in the Mumbai harbour. The fundraiser is on from 20th Dec to 26th Dec. Please donate generously for every sail as per your ability (minimum Rs. 1, 000 /-). Every single rupee thus collected will be used for relief to those impacted by the events of last month. The recipients of this donation will be the widows and families of 14 very junior policemen who laid down their lives during the terror attacks. The money will be given to the Ashok Kumar Foundation who will ensure it reaches them.

As you sail in the harbour, you will see the physical scars of a city that was under siege but demonstrates a spirit that has the power to heal. In our own quiet way we hope this would be one very small and token step towards creating a positive wave of energy, of saluting Mumbai, of remembering and perhaps finding stronger ways of addressing the challenges before us. We hope to see each of you Sailing For Peace & Freedom From Fear and donating towards this cause.

Peace on Earth & Goodwill to (Wo)Men

15 Dec

It’s all very well to howl over your heartbreak and sniffle into your coffee about admittedly horrific events so close to home, but beyond the pain is the practical and that’s what this lady and her team of mostly mommy bloggers have been doing so well. (So the next time anyone thinks mommies are about just nappy-talk and burping babies, think again. Or I’ll sit on you until you do.)

Now, where were we? Oh yes, the India Helps blog. Especially remarkable because it’s really as basic as having good intentions and making them work. This group of proactive women has banded together to make a grassroots, human connection beyond writing out cheques (though those are great too—keep ‘em coming!).

It is my privilege to be able to contribute a little something through connections in the social work field, and request that all of you reading this visit the India Helps website to be a part of the effort in your own way. Spread the word, send links to related articles/new developments, draw attention to other similar efforts—every little bit helps. Let me be very clear. No one’s rushing into this. None of the bleeding hearts throwing money in an outpouring of temporary compassion bit. The groundwork needs to be done first. To figure out the most effective, useful ways to help. And these may not necessarily be the most obvious ones. India Helps is currently trying to contact people and organizations in the social work field to determine how resources can be best put to use. If you have ideas, do share them directly with Kiran and her team. If you don’t read regular post-26/11 updates on this blog, it’s because I encourage you to get your information from directly over there.

Here are some pictures taken on December 2nd. Thanks to the Boy really, because I was busy bawling like a baby. The ones from the December 3rd rally can’t go up until I knock some sense into my silly old camera, but I do, do want to share those with you. That rally was the single most cathartic, enthralling, amazing social experience of my 30 years and nothing I’ve been part of anywhere or anytime else comes even close.

Life is rumbling again, but just barely, and for once I know that the heaviness inside doesn’t stem from the extra pounds I lug around on my bones.

Stay well, people. It’s 10 days to Christmas.

Four Weddings and a Funeral…

6 Dec

…is a good movie title, but in the non-celluloid world, a clutter of heartening and heart-wrenching events can put you on the straight road to Loontown.

I’m in the middle of a big family event, the second of four this season, and while I greatly enjoying being with my extended family, it’s been hard. To smile, to dress, to welcome guests without the bile rising in the pit of my stomach, all the while questioning how we can celebrate while our city lies brutalized. But troopers are us, and if only for the sake of those we love, get to it we must. For two precious little girls with the warmest hugs possible and for what their navjote means to them.

Add to this a post-horror pilgrimage on Tuesday, a solidarity rally at the Gateway on Wednesday, a failed internet connection for three days and our anniversary coming up tomorrow, and we have enough peaks and troughs to resemble the Rockies. Strange days these, when so many of life’s miseries and joys are compressed into a capsule, like the blending of multi-colored playdoh.

Apologies for being AWOL at a time like this. I will put pictures up once the immediate whirl abates. In the meanwhile, a quick update before I rush off again:

I spoke with Dr. Jyotsna Kirtane, head of pediatric surgery at the J. J. Hospital and she recommends providing protein powders like Pediasure to the children’s ward. These are usually unaffordable by the hospital administration and assist greatly in physical rehabilitation. For adults, Complan is a good bet. (There aren’t too many children admitted for this particular tragedy, thankfully.) Dry fruits are also welcome. Do not send perishable foods, they already have plenty of those. I did raise the question of tinned goods being cornered and re-sold in the black market, to which Dr. Kirtane said we could open the tins in front of the staff if we wished.

There was no urgent blood requirement as of 3 days ago, but you can keep checking at 23701366. To be honest, I didn’t expect the phone to be answered, given the magnitude of workload they are currently facing, but it was and a coherent response was given. As the initial hullabaloo abates, the hospitals will struggle for resources again, so some of you may wish to be continued donors instead of one-time respondents, if you think that’s manageable.

Next up: Locating a fund for families of soldiers/policemen/commandos who died in the line of duty. Does anybody have updates on this? I have contacted Dina Mehta and am waiting to hear from her. My friend in the media is another point of contact, but she just got proposed to, so I don’t want to rain on her parade with sombre questions unless I absolutely must.

In the meantime, take a look at this page. A bizarre, chilling thought entered my head while I looked at this site. What if the terrorists set up one of these pages, to misdirect funds or simply gauge public reaction and gloat over it? I wouldn’t put anything past them. Anything at all.

And now that I’ve completely creeped myself out, I must go pick out a saree, contort my hair, cross my fingers and hope that I’m a good enough actress to pass muster tonight. For so many of us, the nightmare began on this day, 16 years ago.

God bless.

Links: 1, 2, and 3.

Hark The Rich Bitch Speaks

3 Dec

Late last night, I received a forwarded email that contained this piece and an individual’s response to it. I recommend skimming through the piece before you read any further. The individual who responded to it is a friend of the acquaintance who sent it to me, one Rasika Gaikwad, who wrote the following:

skimmed thru the article….in a harried/hurried way
but i totally agree
i mean the whole thing is hyped because its bombay and the rich died
not to belittle anybody’s grief, but if the affluent and the
educated speak out only when their tail is on fire, this country has no hope

ULFA is a terrorist organisation…..which has caused enough mayhem
who cares abt the north-east problem though?????????????????
hell…i m sure way more than 200 people die in police custody each year
and many of them innocent… they are just poor and generally muslims
fucking hell…. i means lakhs and lakhs of femles infants are killed every year in India…

9/11 killed 3000 americans..and these people (english spouting, drug lapping zombies jolted by a fire at their favourite hotel) extol america’s reaction???
it fucking bombed the wrong country and killed thousands of children…
bush continued to pal up with the bin laden clan for oil….
is this wht we r supposed to learn from america?????

india loses so many more lives to terrorism than any other country except Iraq and we r not even at war…….
military men at the border face fire routinely

point is….we just react to drama
damn ya… we need to evolve beyond prioritising on the basis of what provokes visceral shocks
we r not even identifying teh problem correctly
or rather are not focusing on the right ones
how on earth are we going to solve them???????

i was driven crazy by what happened this week (my sis was out almost all night till it lasted..we barely slept)
but what incapacitated me were the 2006 train blasts.. i still can’t bear to think abt them for more than a minute
no minister resigned then….

if the ‘more important’ people getting affected makes news; so be it…
news is business…. its about TRPs , not truth…
(and what fucking imporatnt people…. no big scientist or artist or leader died as far as i know (correct me)
what shocked the crap abt of these people is that even money can’t buy safety..
i mean..’WE CAN’T BE SAFE EVEN AT THE TAJ!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHOA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The country really is in deep shit..’

bombs have been going off in crowded market places across the country for teh whole of last year…

1 billion plus people…and the newspapers are full of people telling us
how taj was like a second home to them… well maybe so..these are the sentiments of a miniscule section of society and they expressed it..genuinely too ….(and oh my god..heritage be damned..when did we start caring abt that..???
many old, beautiful buildings in bombay are in ruins… ratan tata will take care of taj… teh govt needs to worry abt CST)

the govt. needs to treat its subjects equally… even if the media doesn’t.
(atleast now we need to be more sensitive towards the kashmiris
imagine living in mortal fear for decades…. !!!)
no one fucking called for the ISI chief in the last 60 years…
not enough evidence of involvement of pakistan there, is it?????????

i sincerely wish though that not just families bereaved (and not just because of yest’s attacks but because of every single cruel, violent act), but all of us start caring about what happens sround us when the grief settles down as a natural part of our system

**********

I could not wait until the next day to respond. Propping matchsticks between my eyelids and seething with anger, I dashed off the response below to my acquaintance. Plenty more arguments occurred to my fresher mind this morning, but I will post my response exactly as it was sent:

*********

This sounds almost resentful–both the original article and your friend’s response. It is natural that some events and actions hit closer home than others and we choose to react to the ones that hurt us with their intimacy. I am not indicating that all the points made are invalid, but to show righteous outrage about equality at a time when persons are deeply grieving their private losses unveils a small, disgruntled mind that refuses to grant a moment’s reprieve that is basic human decency. It is clear that both the writer and the respondent are far removed from the current situation, and therefore unaffected. Hence they can afford the luxury of going all moralistic on somebody else’s pain. I strongly object to the sweeping generalizations made about (sic) RICH SPOILT KIDS WHO WOULD DRIVE THEIR VEHICLES OVER SLEEPING AAM AADMIS ON THE PAVEMENT. Not everyone who goes there is rolling in wealth and certainly not everyone who visits is a murderer. But of course, the person writing this wouldn’t know that. He’s too busy trying to prove an “original” point to verify facts. Yes, CST did not get as much coverage. But there are understandable reasons for that act:
1. It did not devolve into a hostage situation, unlike the other 3 locations, and was a limited time-frame episode that did not involve engaging continual resources. It is but natural at times like these that social fair play takes a back seat and more pressing priorities are dealt with.
2. The very NATURE of these attacks is different from the boom-and-it’s-over tactics that we’ve grown immune to. Here, the enemy had a face, a voice and a sustained plan of action. We weren’t left picking up the pieces because it was hell bent on ripping the shards to shreds and the targets in question had to be wrenched out of its control. A little consideration toward this all-important differential fact would have gone a long way in making the writer and respondent’s arguments worthier of attention.

Please send this to both, if it is possible. And have them know that they disgust me. Humanity clearly isn’t missing from just terrorists.

*********

It’s back. The you-have-means-and-are-therefore-less-deserving-of-sympathy argument. The deeply erroneous assumption that the better off care only about their immediate environment and don’t move a facial muscle when the lower economic stratas are impacted. It makes for a good social justice essay. And probably acts as a feel-good, oh-I’m-so-uniformly-fair kick. But beyond its initial hook to make people stop a while and rethink their view of the world, the premise and its arguments both ring hollow.

Firstly, WHERE is the empirical evidence to prove that people with fatter paychecks felt no anguish at other attacks on their city? Yes, there have been a thousand November 26s in Kashmir since militancy ravaged the valley. People who can afford tea at the Taj do have a basic level of education and don’t need Sankaran to do the math for them.

Secondly, IN WHICH RULEBOOK is it written that all human beings must feel equal anguish at all events? In the years since independence, India has been at the receiving end of enough terrorist aggression to fill a book, and at some point, our shock and horror have been muted by the regularity with which these events occur and the intimacy of the situation to our own lives. What is so sinful in realizing that I will absolutely feel more devastated when the attack is closer home than when it is in a part of my country that I haven’t had the privilege of visiting? Why does my deeper reaction to something that holds more meaning for me make me a callous bitch who cares squat for more distant wounds? And no one demonstrates this better than the writer of the original piece, Mr. Gnani Sankaran, who would be sobbing a very different tune, were he not sitting in faraway Chennai, removed from the immediacy of our latest nightmare.

Thirdly, WHY do we have to prove our allegiance to our fellow Indians by expressing equally rationed quotas of outrage every time a terror strike occurs? Why is my integrity toward my fellow citizens and country questioned because I didn’t howl like I am doing today? Must I shout from the rooftops that 7/11 was as heartbreaking? Must I tell you all today that I had friends waiting on streets to hand out bottles of water and juice to commuters stranded on the way home? Must I prove my love for Delhi by announcing at this juncture that I wrote letters to editors, sobbed into my pillow and grieved for my nation’s beautiful capital? Should I be assuaging Mr. Sankaran’s righteous indignation by assuring him I would be as horrified, were a similar calamity were to befall Chennai?
The reasons for the sustained focus on the Taj and the Oberoi have been mentioned by me in the email. The novelty of the attack, the demands of the situation and length of the assault all contributed to the five-stars receiving increased attention. The CST, fortunately or not, was not put under the same kind of lengthy torture as the other 3 locations, the third one being conveniently omitted by Mr. Sankaran, save for a fleeting mention.

He then goes on to lambast the moneyed by calling them swindlers, spoilt rich kids and even murderers, who supposedly cruise over bodies without a care. Mr. Sankaran, Salman Khan, to the best of my knowledge was not at the Taj Mahal Hotel that night. Would you bother to point out who else it is that can’t differentiate between a pavement and people? If Cafe Leopold is, in your clearly superior opinion, also the hang-out of spoilt, rich, murderous kids, why was that not given coverage after the initial rounds of firing, Mr. Sankaran? The media, the commandos, the intervening authorities, though far from perfect in intent or operation, clearly had more common sense than you, who, blinded by your misguided moral outrage, targeted the first punching bag you could set your unfocused sights on.

This is not a volley to defend the media. Neither am I speaking as a representative of the rich and powerful. No Page 3 person is my friend and the two people I lost were both upper middle class men who worked hard to feed their families. I needn’t scream until I’m blue in the face that this time around, it was different. The audacity, the means, the end goal, the target populace. It is but natural that this twist in our usual terrorism script will bring about more volatile reactions. Yes, South Bombay is the home and haunt of fatter wallets, better educations and greater entitlement. It is also the contributor of much to the city and the nation. Take a walk down our streets, Mr. Sankaran, to see what India can be like. I say this not with arrogance, but with the pride I carry within me for my amazing city within a city. Deriding its people for what they have and the media for its first-time coverage of such an episode is hateful, small-minded and downright pompous. It belittles our pain and serves no purpose but to further torture our already shattered spirits.

At a time when we look to our nation (and, to an extent, the media) for strength and resources, this rant peppered with search-friendly phrases and textbook ideas of equality and social justice reeks of injustice to the sufferers of this tragedy.

Shame, Mr. Sankaran. Shame, Rasika Gaikwad. I have nothing but loathing for your petty, unworthy sentiments.

Just When I Was Feeling Completely Useless…

2 Dec

… The Huffington Post tells us “Bloggers Provide Raw view of Mumbai Massacre”

And goes on to mention the comic relief provided by some user named Orange Jammies.

Hmm… what was this tweeter thinking, being a clown at 3 a.m.?

Thanks, Whipster, for the ping.

In Defiance of a Mumbai Morning

27 Nov

Hush, little dog,

There are terrorists about,

Maybe you’ll be exempt

Because they don’t kill their own kind.

Credits: OJ and her Canon Powershot in sepia mode. The result of much gadding about in happier times.

P.S. Tweets updated.

News Flash

26 Nov

There have been multiple blasts and firing and grenade lobbing in at least 7 locations in Bombay. I heard two three of those explosions. Check my Twitter feed for details and updates.

Edited to add: The Twitter feed on this blog isn’t updating quickly enough. For news as I post, go directly to my Twitter page.

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