Wednesday, December 31, 2008

2008..goodbye forever

Finally!! It the last day of the year and what a day at that!!

While I read people's plan for the new year's eve, I can't help but rue at lack of any plans for my evening ahead. But that is not the reason I am happy this year is over. I mean when I look back at the last 365 days, I don't have any one thing that I will associate with this year 10 years down the line - nothing!! This year seems to have gone by in a state of sleep walking with nothing to shake me out of my slumber.

So I decided to note the random few things that have made this year special in many ways.
  • Mansukh Mann deserves a very special mention in this category. Not so much for the 'no trouble period' that I had with her (coz that was virtually non existent) but for the many movies that she made me sit through (mostly against my will), the many sandwiches and parathas she fed me, the one time that we both went to Big Chill (amazing) and her endless counseling days (no prizes for guessing who counsels)!!
  • Blob coz he has just been adorable and for making me get up every working day at 6:30. But more so because he has very patiently listened to my rambling (he basically didn't have a choice!!)
  • Malvika Varma for making endless trips to India so that I (nee we) don't forget what she looks like...ever and for all those endless rounds of laughter between her and Mansukh on each visit and also for her dollops of 'humor' on g talk!!
  • And now that I have mentioned two devils, I might as well mention the third one. Neha Varma who, above all, has been a constant fixture of all the future plans (whether or not she has been involved in making them), including those that involve notorious kids ;)
  • Massi's retirement. Yeah that was an event in itself and I absolutely loved it.
  • Blogging!! While I still haven't achieved the eutopian target of one post every day, I have considerably improved from last year. So am sure 2009 is going to be a rocking year in those terms.
  • Rab ne bana di jodi - Surinder Sahni. Period.

So that is all for what this year held for me. I do hope that 2009 is more eventful and far more rocking than this one proved to be. And for all those stepping out tonight, have a great year end and an even greater start to 2009. Be safe.

God bless!!

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Memories of a Childhood

Every time I heard Jagjit Singh sing,

"Yeh daulat bhi lelo
Yeh shaurat bhi lelo
Bhale cheen lo mujhse meri jawani
magar mujhko lauta do
bachpan ka saawan
woh kaagaz ki kashti
woh baarish ka paani"
I would lose myself to the music, to his silky voice. All these years.But never to the thought. It just never occurred. Until today...
Now that I hear the song over and over again, I would do anything to be taken back to those days. Well, I didn't really have many a kaagaz ki kashti to mark my childhood, but I did have many a coloured clip with matching rubber bands and absolutely fairy like dresses (what everyone insists on calling frocks). I did have careless abandon (well not really but i'd like to believe I did and I am sure it adds more sentiment to this post). I did have days of endless hide and seek after grilling homework sessions and days of 'stepu'. Yeah yeah that was a game we played!! I did have a childhood of endless Christmas parties (okay not really endless) and Teacher's Day and Children's Day celebrations. Not that it was all pleasant. I also had dictations (this was a weekly affair with dad taking his role very seriously). I did have days when I was beaten black and blue for getting a 65 in Maths (I guess the only reason my mom spared me to live another day was so that she could beat me harder the next time). I did have a few horrible-which-I-would-like-to-forget PTA meetings.
I did have a childhood that I would die to have back. Yes, with all the beatings and bad marks and everything.
I am listing below some things that I distinctly remember from 'the good old days'.
  • I remember each day when we would get up to go to school (most of them).
  • I remember each of my class sections (for the record, KG C, I A, 2 D, 3 A, 4 D, 5 B, 6 A, 7 A, 8 A, 9 D, 10 D, 11B, 12 C...hehe).
  • I remember the names of all my class teachers (Pooja Bhambri, Ma'am Anama, Ma'am Mohan, Jyoti Sausan, Ma'am Nandini, Ma'am Anju, Ma'am Deepshikha, Ritu Puri, Seema Sharma, Ritu Puri, Sir Prince, Dinesh, Ma'am George)
  • I remember Tina Younis was my first best friend in school.
  • I remember that I could not spell banana (always wrote an extra nana at the end) and running (with a single n) in KG.
  • I remember I had cried when I got a 9/10 in a dictation in KG :)
  • I remember almost all my classmates, some of who were very nice to me, others who were not so nice and some who were plain scared (evil) .
  • I remember each time my mom beat me when I didn't get a top 3 rank in class (yeah they did that).
  • I remember the first time I made a single plat to school and what Ma'am Deehikhs had said.
  • I remember the 'many' times I was made the Class Monitor
  • I remember each time I was made the Cupboard Incharge (now that was no mean feat. Only the trusted one got the keys to the teacher's cupboard where she kept everything from test papers to attendance registers. In those days, these things meant more than a treasure)
  • I do remember that Megha Kumar had joined our school in Class 4 and she became my partner.
  • I remember Tanya Mathews joined us in Class 5 and her mom took my notes (Her mom later became my Biology teacher but never returned the favor...damn!!)
  • I remember each time my sister (brat) would gobble up her up chocolates and sweets and then have mine too (which, by the way, were carefully kept away after having a small bite so that they could be relished for a longer time...but of course that was never to be with that brat around).
  • I remember each of the houses we stayed in...GK, Saket, Gulmohar Park and every time we moved
  • I remember Shekhar Ganguly, who was my partner in Class 7 and I remember how much I had troubled him. He also had run across half the school one day to hand me the umbrella I had forgotten when my mom had come to pick me early from school. He was the sweetest boy I knew in school.
  • I remember Tanav Chopra, Puneet Sharma, Rahul Anand and there is a reason I mention them together
  • I remember almost all Christmas parties in school
  • I remember Marsala aunty and that she made amazing Plum cake for Christmas
  • I do remember that Sandy was shorter than me till Class 9
  • I do remember also that he was my partner in Class 8 and that I slapped him hard once :)
  • I remember that Ma'am Bhat was my Biology and Chemistry teacher in Class 7 and well..
  • My English teachers..Ma'am S Kumar, Ma'am Deepshikha, Ritu Puri, Monica, Dilara, Ma'am Susan Jacob (my favourite), Ritu Puri, Susan Jacob, Ma'am George
  • I remember the stupid crushes
  • I remember the even more stupid 'pairs'
  • I remember Faraz and how he could never stand still, even during the National Anthem
  • I remember the morning assembly and the school prayers (We had three different ones)
  • I remember 'On Life's venture' and even have it on my laptop now..
  • I remember Chakshu Biala was my house captain I don't know how many times. I also remember the only guy who gave him competition was Abheek Nangia
  • I remember Bharath Nangia was among my favourite juniors
  • I remember all Agnel Darpan meetings
  • I remember that most of my sister's friends confused me for her
  • I remember my sister would give the illiest grin everytime she saw me in school
  • I remember the Fsarewell we gave to our seniors and the titles we made
  • I remember the Farewell we got and 'Miss Agnel'
  • I remember 'Mrutti'
  • I remember Father (and I miss him too)

I remember to never forget. I remember!!

All I can say right now is, "Those were the days my friend, We'd thought they'd never end"!! But end they did. If only, if only I could have them back..

I will give all the Maths and Chemistry exams again. I am ready to be paired opposite the stupidest guy around. Or anything else it would take. Just oh just give me back that time!!

Happy Happy Birthday


So finally, the last birthday of the year in the family!! The 'little one' turns 21 and it is time to celebrate...yay!!


So Miss Varma, a little something for you...



Just another day, or is it
Just another one, or is she
Just another time
But we know it is not!

Just another one, or is she
She is not, she is not
It is her we celebrate
Not the day

She is not, she is not
You are not
It is you we celebrate
Not the day

Go on share the joy
Pass the love that you hold
Smile on those who
Know not what it is

Celebrate each moment
Make merry each day
Celebrate yourself
Hold the doubts at bay

Twenty One years ago
What came to us
We didn't know
It would mean so much

It is not just another day
It is not just another year
It is a moment
That will stay forever

It is not just another someone
It is not just another you

So darling, wish you a great birthday and a super turning 21!! Have a blast with all the food (pun intended) and gifts and everything else. And may the year ahead bring you lots of happiness, success and a lot many good movies which you can watch.

Happy birthday again.
Lots of love..
from all of us

Friday, December 19, 2008

Order Order!!!

Finally!!! There are some voices that say we have been wrong all through. There are some that say we did get carried away. And then there are some which say that absolutely nothing is wrong!!

Finally, all these voices have been heard. And it has been ruled that the Indian media must maintain 'order order'. The court ruling today which suggests that the Indian media were fairly off the mark while covering the Mumbai attacks seems vindicating for many of us. For me at least they do. And I am not a cynic. I am not against the power of the media. For a one-time wannabe journalist, I am most certainly not any of the above. But yes, I do believe in self regulation. And if that is not forthcoming, well then, let's go and regulate them. I do believe that families and little children need not be shown the horrendous image of a blood laced face or body. I do believe that we can be spared the blame and counter blame, specially when the attack on our sovereignty is still on.

So, while the debate continues about what is right and wrong, I think it is time we take an unbiased stand and decide on what we need v/s what we want. Sensationalism is a want. Information is a need. Nee, balanced information is a need. And I do hope that with today's ruling, it becomes more effective. I do hope that after this, there is 'some semblance of sense' in how we project ourselves and our country.

The choice is clear; between blood thirsty hounds or responsible journalists.

Rabba Rabba..

And Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi is a super hit!!!

Well, this news lays the foundation of a perfect weekend ahead for a Shah Rukh fan like me. It is not like this is a result of the trials or tribulations of the man we call Baadshah, but it nothing short of that if you ask a loyalist :)

The King Khan is smiling as are Yash Raj films (all the way to the bank). The audience are smiling a great deal as the film has lifted a veil of broodiness from the society which had descended post the 26/11 attacks. So while Mr Khan, you talk of eating gol gappas in love or making every common man's story a love story to remember, a little fan waves her hand out to you shyly, secretly smiling at your success :)

BTW, I should kill myself. I still haven't seen the movie (yeah yeah). But I will, this weekend for sure. Like I said, this is just the start to a perfect weekend :)

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Is there something called Perfection

The race to perfection has no finish line.

Had this one very interesting discussion with Ankur (my dearest boss!!!) about whether perfection is attainable. In fact, whether perfection as an idea truly exists!!
Got us thinking.

Ankur: I don't think there is anything called perfection.
Me: I think there is. And it is a concept that exists in the absolute sense. And of course, it is ever evolving.
Well that formed the basis of a discussion that carried well beyond 2 hours. Fruitful utilization of a working day :)
So, like I said above, according to me, perfection is much more than just an idea. It is a pursuit. It is an ever evolving process, which is just as personal to someone as his/her likes or dislikes. Your idea of perfection need not resonate with mine. Your quest need not overlap mine. These can exist as parallel and also, in rare situations, converge. But this does not dilute the fact that perfection exists.

As an individual, I will always desire to learn more. I will continue to evolve. But in my current situation, given my limitations, I can desire to achieve perfection. And work well towards it. Now my idea of perfection may be above or below yours but that doesn't make it inferior or non existent. The want to be perfect is what drives humans to get better of themselves, to push the limits and challenge the boundaries. This urge to be the best that one can be is second nature to those who actually have made a mark in their lives. Because they don't rest on their laurels and know that they can give more to the situation, they achieve more. And this drive is mostly driven by the sub conscious.

So, while the discussion did not yield much in terms of a conclusion, I am convinced that my quest for perfection will not be in vain. And I know how to get to the finish line.

With nothing to say....

Another day has gone by
Not a very pleasant one at that
Some truths from the past caught up
Some talk of future lay undiscovered

The past should exactly be that
It becomes much too hard to bear
When it leaps into my present
Aiming at being witness to my future

It rings no bell
It doesn't sound familiar
But it leaves me with a sinking feeling
A feeling that deepens with every word they say

A hidden guilt
Not quite something I deserve
Not quite something I asked for
Not something that I want

Some truths from the past
Was it really that
Or was it a misconceived perception
That has fed your thoughts of what was

I keep the good times
You choose the bad ones
We had both, aplenty
We could have had more

I don't know who is to blame
For what is not
I am not looking away
But it could just be you

Every thought of the future
Left us smiling
Every talk of the past
Now brings a tear

Don't know if this was meant to be
Or Not
We left each other
With nothing to say....

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

On the Floor

One of the recent good radio spots I came across was for NITCO tiles...

It's quite a simple philosophy actually. This one really off-the-tune guy is singing Oh Carol and intersperses each sentence with 'on the floor'. Very simple. Critics might even argue that it follows a been-there-done-that approach. But what the heck!! It sure catches your attention. I am sure this will do some good to the brand, much more than the idea of using random models posing seductively 'on the floor' :)

Good job!!

Play to the gallery Miss Mann

June 30, 1987 is not a day I am likely to forget in a hurry. It changed the course of my life. I was only about 3 years old to actually grasp the magnitude of what happened but now, it has begun to sink in. All these years (21 and a half) have passed by, shrouded either in ignorance or denial. But now, finally, I am beginning to accept that 'The Miss Mann' is an active and 'loud' part of my life. It's more like I have to. PHEW!!

Like every other 3 year old, I was a bundle of excitement (mmmm...maybe), apprehension (at the attention slipping away from me) and wonder (at my mom's changing appearance). I faintly recall my mom explaining to me what the fuss was all about and trying to infuse excitement about the impending arrival of a younger sibling. I don't know how I reacted then but looking at the years gone by, I would want to hit myself hard for having jumped with joy if I did :)

Anyhow, the day arrived. Like any lazy morning, I went about my day with nonchalance. And then... unknown to me, my life changed forever. I was taken to the hospital to see what the newest member of our family looked like. Well I hate to admit, but she was a beautiful chubby child (chubby is euphenised). And then began the story...

She was brought home in a special car and kept in an AC room (wow!!) while I am certain I must have been made to sweat it out (pun intended). The next few years saw a repeat of the above. Neha Varma (now who doesn't know her, my real sister Part 2) and I fought endlessly over who will play with Miss Mann. We went to the same school, where to much of my joy, most teachers knew her as my sister (grin grin). Then came the horrendous days. I think both of us fell just short of throwing each other out of the house...I don't know if all siblings go through this phase but we certainly did. Each of us would have a mini celebration when the other was away. I am sure she must have jumped the day I passed out of school. Clearly, we were never the best of friends. Anyhow, the days passed, the months did and finally the years.

And then finally, the ice broke. To cut the very long 21 years short, we finally share happily one room in the house, while she decides what bedsheets go up and the matching curtains, I take up the responsibility of keeping it clean [not quite my favorite job, but since she won't do it, I have to :)]. Finally, people don't know her just as my sister but as Mansukh Mann and/or Miss Mann (these people are few but they do great amount of good to her ego and some even know me as her sister and this could largely be attributed to be the reason behind her health). We (read SHE) make plans about movies (what else when she is involved), about our future and about food. She proposes and disposes plans for my wedding on an hourly basis. We love to constructively deconstruct people behind their backs. We even tend to play advocate for the other when mother dear makes unappetising food. We still pull each other's hair out while sharing clothes (mine mostly because she is too lazy to buy her own). And amidst all this nonsense, she occassionally surprises me with talk of wisdom.

And then it dawns upon me. Finally, I know that it is time for me to pass the mantle of being Miss Mann. Atleast I can't stake lone claim to it anymore. All I want to tell her is that I have loved this title more than anything. I have loved it every time when someone has called me Miss Mann either out of respect, envy or love. The name will continue to be a reflection of you but since you have done a fairly decent job with yourself, I am sure you will add color and vibrance to this tag as well. It brings with it immense amount of glamour (you will see), love and hatred in equal measure from the 'lesser few', responsibility (i would love to tell you that you have some really big shoes to fill :)) and lots of fun.

So play to the gallery Miss Mann and enjoy every moment of it.

And do get well soon!!!

Friday, December 12, 2008

PM says "I am Sorry"...

This day has to be historic!! The Parliament did not witness ugly scenes between the ruling party and the Opposition. Almost all who spoke, spoke in unison. Spoke against terror. And spoke against a certain not-so-friendly-neighbour. And I think, spoke for the common man. Just this one time maybe, but I am not letting my optimism subside.

While the PM can not say "Sorry" and shirk off what happened at Mumbai, what is really unique is that he said Sorry on national television. He accepted his mistakes and those of his government in safeguarding the country and its people, standing at the holiest ground of Indian democracy. He truly hailed the spirit of democracy.

But what really makes this day even more special is that the Opposition did not do a fist beating act during the session and extended full support to the government in combating terror and terrorism. This is a landmark day for India, not yet there as America getting Obama as a president but getting there. I am no fan of Indian politicians but when Mr Advani said, "We will support the government in all efforts to safeguard the country and its people.", I think he meant it. When Rahul Gandhi spoke about moving out of the 'laal batti' syndrome of security in India, it reeked of sincerity at some level. I might not have witnessed the greatness of my country through the walk in space but today I am indeed very very proud of what I saw. There is a faint hope that this country has a future, how bright I don't know. But I wish to. Finally, the last few weeks of cynicism and negativity seem to be ending. This is important for us and the society. We need to express our opinion but in ways that would invite some action, and not 'lipstick-powder' comments. We cannot allow to channelise our opinion, our action and our efforts in a negative way such that it rips apart the bare thread of democracy that this country stands on. The base that allows me to write what I want to, to say what I feel. The tool that lets me voice my anger, my anguish at the failure of my leaders to safeguard the lives of my brothers and sisters, and all this on a very public platform of the national television.

I am still clueless about what steps to take in the days ahead but I surely am a more aware citizen of this country. And I do hope that others like me take inspiration from late Major Unnikrishnan's father when he said after his son's death that 'he is not against the system. He strongly believes in the power of the system and knows that this country and its people will not let his son's sacrifice be forgotten.'

I am sure that I will not!!

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Some semblance of sense

Finally, the election resluts are out! And they have been surprisingly pleasant.
Out of the five states that saw the results of their vote come out on Monday, December 8, what matters most to me is Delhi. Yes, Mizoram, Chattisgarh, Rajasthan and MP are equally important important in the national sense but Delhi is what affects me directly. So in many ways I am happy that Congress won in Delhi and we have Sheila aunty back as our CM (prospective CM). And considering this is the first time I voted and that too for the winning candidate, I am doubly pleased with the result.
Anyhow, what stands out with these results is that largely people have voted for development and honest governance. Take Delhi for instance. Sheila aunty has actually done considerable work on her vision of making Delhi a world class city (yes yes she has made some very insensitive comments at inappropriate times but she has accepted her mistakes). We have a highly improved transport system (I shall leave BRT out of this discussion and focus solely on the modes of transport), a far cleaner city thanks to CNG, more transparent and accountable education system in the city. In the run up to the elections, BJP ran a campaign that showed no vision, no plan for the city if they were voted to power. They singularly concentrated their campaign to highlight the 'failures' of the Congress government and since they had lost the 1998 elections to onions, this time they decided to turn the tables on Congress with tomatoes!! Thankfully, people saw the larger development and voted for a clean leader who is willing to admit her mistakes and doesn't seem to take her position for granted.
So, all in all, I am very happy that my sister will not be leaving the city, which she would have done had mr. V K Malhotra become the CM. And I am even happier that my city will have a government that acts on its promises(this could be a double edged sword..)
Sheila aunty ki jai ho :)

Is Baar Nahin!!!

We have reading reports of public angst against the politicians and the system after the Mumbai attacks. Nothing sums this up better than Prasoon Joshi, who has penned a poem titled 'Is Baar Nahin', which if transalted in English means 'Not this time'. I don't think it could have captured the essence and the mood of the entire country better than it did.
It says that not another time, will we pretend to be okay when we are not. Not another time will we tell someone to look away. This time we will let the pain reside so that we are constantly reminded.

Absolutely beautiful. Read on..

Is baar jab woh choti si bachchi mere paas apni kharonch le kar aayegi
Main usey phoo phoo kar nahin behlaoonga
Panapney doonga uski tees ko
Is baar nahin
Is baar jab main chehron par dard likha dekhoonga
Nahin gaoonga geet peeda bhula dene wale
Dard ko risney doonga,utarney doonga andar gehrey
Is baar nahin

Is baar main na marham lagaoonga
Na hi uthaoonga rui ke phahey
Aur na hi kahoonga ki tum aankein band karlo,gardan udhar kar lo main dawa lagata hoon
Dekhney doonga sabko hum sabko khuley nangey ghaav
Is baar nahin
Is baar jab uljhaney dekhoonga,chatpatahat dekhoonga
Nahin daudoonga uljhee door lapetney
Uljhaney doonga jab tak ulajh sake
Is baar nahin

Is baar karm ka hawala de kar nahin uthaoonga auzaar
Nahin karoonga phir se ek nayee shuruaat
Nahin banoonga misaal ek karmyogi ki
Nahin aaney doonga zindagi ko aasani se patri par
Utarney doonga usey keechad main,tedhey medhey raston pe
Nahin sookhney doonga deewaron par laga khoon
Halka nahin padney doonga uska rang
Is baar nahin banney doonga usey itna laachaar
Ki paan ki peek aur khoon ka fark hi khatm ho jaye
Is baar nahin

Is baar ghawon ko dekhna hai
Gaur se
Thoda lambe waqt tak
Kuch faisley
Aur uskey baad hausley
Kahin toh shuruat karni hi hogi
Is baar yahi tay kiya hai
... Prasoon Joshi

The English Translation:

This time when that little girl comes to me with her bruises,
I will not blow gently at her wound, nor distract her,
I will let her pain grow.
Not this time.
This time when I see pain on faces
I will not sing the song that eases pain
I will let the pain seep in, deep.
Not this time.

This time I won't apply any balm
Nor will I ask you to shut your eyes and turn your head
While I gingerly apply medicine
I will let everyone see the open, naked wounds
Not this time.
This time when I see difficulty, uneasiness

I will not run to solve the problems
I will let them become complicated
Not this time.

This time I won't pick up my tools as a matter of duty
I will not make a new beginning
Nor will I stand as an example of one dedicated to my job
I will not let life easily return to normalcy
I will let it descend into muck, on the twisting paths
I will not let the blood on the walls dry out
Nor will I let its colour fade away
This time I won't let it become so helpless
That you can't tell blood from paan-spit
Not this time.

This time the wounds need to be watched
Carefully
For a long time
Some decisions are needed
And then some brave moves to be made
We have to begin somewhere
This time this is what I have resolved


I might not have been able to do full justice to the poet's thought in the translation but I think he has done justice. He has done justice to all those of us who get ready every morning to go to work no matter what. No matter how much we are hurt, we look away and wipe our tears. We will not pretend to be strong. In effect, we will not let our strength become our weakness in the eyes of those who sit in their chambers wearing the cloak of our leaders. We will not.

Content Courtesy : Prasoon Joshi and rediff

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

the voice at large

Some links that I have come across over the last few days highlighting vaious aspects of the Mumbai attacks:

http://smallchange.in/
http://in.youtube.com/watch?v=mDyTPnj4LVg

Will add more as they come along...

Monday, December 1, 2008

The Great Indian Tamasha

The video of Barkha Dutt talking to a family member of one of the victims of the Mumbai terror attacks is supposed to make you cry or atleast suppress a sob. The lady in question goes on asking rather edgy questions to the family member and when they finally break down or are close to tears, she 'understandably' places a consoling hand on their back in a way that says 'I so understand what you are going through'..
Well Ms Dutt, let me give you an eye opener...You don't. You don't understand what they are going through. None of us, who watched the entire tragic episode glued to our television sets for those 3 days, will ever understand what the victims' families are going through. Simply because we can't.

And the Indian media has made a grand tamasha of this tragedy, giving our politicians suitable company. When will we ever understand that the media's role is not just to sensationalise. It is in fact, not to sensationalise at all. It is to inform, to educate. It is to share. And those ingredients are masterfully missing from what we are fed day after day after day. While hundreds died in Mumbai at the hands of those heartless men, the media showed restraint for the first few hours. But soon, it was back to business. The business of higher TRPs, more revenue etc. And sadly, the business of tragedy. Over the years, our politicians had mastered this art, visiting the homes and families of the martyred. The very same people, who had faced flak for being honest and doing their duty (as in the case of Hemant Karkare) or had lived in obscurity till that day; the same people whose families had lived in conditions not deserving the honest servants of the motherland. These politicians visited the families at their time of grief promising huge financial rewards to the dead in honour of their service to the country. But like all promises, these too were broken. Most of the times, the rewards did not reach the families simply because they were never meant to. They were meant to win the public votes and in most cases, they did.

The after days of any terror attack witness a surge in advertisements and hoardings that carry pictures of these martyrs, nee soldiers ( I will just call them soldiers from here on and not add to the sycophancy of the politicians and the media who choose to serve their vested interests. These men lived and died as soldiers and they will be just as happy if we call them that and spare the hypocrisy) with the logos of various political parties. What point are we exactly trying to make here? The soldiers who died did not die for a BJP or a Congress or a BSP or a Maharashtra or Punjab or Tamil Nadu. They died for India. They died for us. They died so that these people could shamelessly mock over their deaths by playing such dirty games of politics and business.

As an Indian, I am shamed when a Narendra Modi goes to Mr Karkare's funeral and offers Rs 1 Crore to his family. I am shamed and I am angry. He has no business to be there, he and his brothers from the BJP who criticized Mr. Karkare while he was alive. He was termed a traitor!! And all this for just doing his job!! He has no business to demean the sacrifice that the man and his family has made. He has no business to take away the grief from his family and turn it into a public spectacle. Mr. Modi had no business to go to Trident or the Taj with his commandos tagging along. If he was so concerned about the victims, why did he not stay at home and ever think of giving up his security cover so that these commandos can do a more worthwhile job of serving the country rather than serving the corrupt politico.

The tamasha had Mr. Advani playing his role to perfection. At first, the gentleman called the PM to 'discuss' the attack (sic) and then suggested that they should go to Mumbai together. But as I understand, haste got the better of Mr Advani and he 'rushed' to Mumbai, understandably to win more brownie points.

But what beats them all is what follows. Ms. Dutt chooses to host a talk show over the tragedy and invite several celebrity guests. During the show, one of the guests (a celebrated talk show host herself) goes on to say that 'If you go up a high rise in Mumbai and look down at the slums below, you will actually see Pakistani flags flying high!!!'. This absolutely irresponsible comment got an agitated member of the audience to yell into the camera that the enemy we need to fight is nowhere else but the lady in question and many others like her. The ever so dignified lady just let her veil of sophistication slip for a nano second before she regained composure after the verbal attack on her. And the channel actually aired it...evidently to build on TRPs!!! The same channel that caused a revolution in the way Indian news and Indian journalists were perceived by the others not too long ago. Sad as it is, the mighty have fallen and with them they have taken the dignity that this noble profession deserves. Alas, Mr. Roy you could not save yourself from the evil forces you once despised!

I am so sickened by what I have seen over the last few days that I know this will alter the course of my life in many ways. I have never been more thankful to be alive and to have those I love around me. I don't know in how many ways this would have affected those who lost their loved ones to this ghastly act. I have asked myself time and again over the last few days, are we really so helpless that we can't even try to get up when someone hits us hard in the gut? Have we really lost the motivation, the drive? Have we after all, become a part of the crowd? Have we surrendered ourselves to a fate of being mute spectators to the Great Indian Tamasha??

I am longing to hear that voice within that says no. I am longing to hear any voice that doesn't reek of lies and hypocrisy.

P.S: And also, Ms Dutt, we didn't understand when you gallantly went ahead during your coverage of the Kargil war and announced your location , which resulted in the killing of some soldiers. We didn't understand why you would do that...is the race for publicity and fame so blinding after all??

Happy Birthday Moshe..

For a two year old, the one gift that he surely didn't want was the news of his parents' death. And blame it on fate if you must, that is exactly what he got!!

The Mumbai massacre (no less) has many unforgettable images, which the media is shamelessly pasting around as the 'faces of tragedy'. But for me, what has stood out more than any other is the image of an inconsolable Moshe Holtzberg, crying aloud for his parents' touch as he turns 2 on November 27.

Absolutely heartbreaking. The sight renders you feeling numb, weak and helpless.