Knowledge and education

I made a presentation to some students of a top-25-Indian B-school last weekend. The whole experience was rather interesting for me. It was also an achievement, from many angles.

I, a non-MBA graduate, stood confidently on a podium and spoke to a group of people, many of whom were older than me. I would NEVER have imagined it a few years ago (Then again, I would never have imagined a few years ago that I’d be doing a lot of things that I am now!!), but it happened.

I was swamped with work the week prior to it and somehow managed to put together a pretty comprehensive presentation. These days, my mind doesn’t stop working even in then nights. So the night before the presentation I went to sleep thinking about the presentation and in the morning it sort of felt like I’d been working through the night and therefore had everything ready. It was quite a surreal experience. I wasn’t even tired, strangely (considering I am usually happiest when I snuggle into bed and seriously need my 8-hour allotment of sleep).

What lesson did I learn? Most importantly – don’t under-estimate yourself. There is no limit to the things you can do if you really apply your mind to it. And lesson number two: qualifications and degrees are not a measure of your ability. They might be a measure of the extent of your education but that’s it (which, by the way, is not to be confused with the extent of your knowledge). So don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I made that mistake a few years ago, but now I know – life let me into the secret!

Time flies when you're having...fun?

Time flies when you’re having fun. Even if that fun is work, and ‘fun’ is not fun in the typical sense of the term, but more fun in the sense of you know you’re learning new things and can actually sense the change in your thinking because of it.

Work has been crazy hectic but – fun. Apparently one of my career development needs is to heighten my self-awareness and sometimes I feel like a spy keeping a watch on myself, but it really is good to go through it. Always scope for improvement, you know. No one is perfect and the rest of that jazz. (Speaking of which, my mind wanders to Aamir Khan’s slick ‘It’s difficult to improve perfection’ line in Dil Chahta Hai but I’m not so – erm – modest!).

My cousin got engaged in the middle of my long work days and weekend (and weekday) travels out of town and I had to take a day off for it. My boss asked me whether it was going to be a ‘shotgun’ wedding. For the ignorant, like I was when I first heard the term, go take a look here. It’s a Japanese site, but there are a lot of weirdly interesting slang phrases in there. And for the record, no, it’s not going to be a shotgun wedding – the very idea!!!!! Orthodox Keralite families living in India will balk at the mere mention of it!

OK- I’m off to watch Nach Baliye on Star One now. It’s a very absorbing show – a dance contest between married TV-star couples. One attraction for me, of course, is the dance aspect, and the second is watching all these known faces sweat it out for prize money of Rs. 50 lakhs. Some of the choreographers, (the winning couple’s choreographer stands to win Rs. 20 lakhs by the way) come up with outstanding stuff. (And I say this having had the experience of choreographing a dance for some college girls a few years ago). I must say that the top few couples are a joy to watch.

Later, then.

And at the stroke of midnight.....

It is my housemate’s birthday today and my 2 other housemates and I celebrated it at the stroke of midnight by giving her a strawberry cheesecake, a chocolate tart and loads of gifts. Her face was a sight to see when she emerged from her bedroom into the darkened kitchen which had candles all around. At the end if it all, she said she ‘really did feel blessed’.

Penny Lane wrote a wonderful post laying out all her gifts and everything some time ago (lucky Penny!) and all I could think yesterday was how loved a person must feel when they suddenly have all these calls and gifts and people coming round to see them. People whom you haven’t been in touch with for years, gifts you’ve wanted for ages but never did buy because your budget didn’t allow you to. That really is what a birthday should be about – feeling loved and blessed, no matter how old you are. I’m not saying that a birthday should be about the material things only – but no one can deny that when you play a part in making someone’s day so much brighter, then you feel so much happier yourself.

And the effort that went in yesterday for some of her cards and gifts was amazing. Handwritten notes attached to every little thing in coloured gel pens, little artifacts with multiple wrappers (leading to the build-up of excitement, of course – what’s a birthday without some curiosity?!), ‘happy’ flowers (they really do look happy, even at 12 midnight), and the yummiest desserts ever (who needs a man when you have these heavenly goodies?!!). It struck me as I watched her unwrapping her gifts that there aren’t too many people nowadays who actually have the patience or time to wrap and wrap and wrap, and write meaningful things in hand-made cards. And no matter what you do, nothing can replace the magic that comes with gifts that have a personal touch. I mean, I’d love an iPod or MP3 player or whatever (of course I would!), but 10 years later when the things have outlived their usefulness, it’s those cards that will warm my heart. It’s those little gifts that will make me feel loved and blessed. And that’s more important really.

That’s what should be important for everyone, don’t you think?

The end of a love affair

Yesterday my love affair with a city ended. I was ready to leave, sitting at the airport, but felt no particular sense of loss.

The rain was pouring down in sheets from a chalk-grey sky…I’ve always loved the monsoon in India. There is something mind-numbingly beautiful about it, especially when there is some greenery around. An urban monsoon is so different from a rural one, but they both touch a chord in me. Riding in that most useful of Indian vehicles, an auto-rickshaw, I silently watched the city speed by noisily on my way to the airport, even as the water on the roads threatened to touch my feet.

But enough digressing. The love that I have for that city has been passive always. How can love be passive, you ask? Well, it can. It can, because I used to love the city not for itself or even the people I met because of it, but because of a few memories I always associated with it. Those memories, I realized, are not particularly precious to me anymore. The memories weren’t always even happy. It only struck me as I sat quietly in that auto.

I wasn’t sad I was leaving anymore. Usually when I leave any city, there is a touch of nostalgia, or sadness. That’s normal, isn’t it, especially if you’ve spent years of your life there? But yesterday I didn’t feel any. The loss I felt was the momentary loss of those memories – but I chose to let them go. Because I figured that if a city’s memories don’t make you happy, if you are never quite comfortable there, as if waiting constantly at the door for someone to pick you up, then you must do the only sensible thing. Let go.

Making friends in the blogosphere

I’d like to debate the ifs and buts of knowing people through their blogs. There are quite a few people who blog that I’ve been able to figure out the identity of. Some of them are actually friends I’ve known at some point in my past, others acquaintances that I’ve known briefly, and many others friends of friends (of friends – and so on). Of course the bulk, given that there are one billion people in India, about ten percent of whom blog, are people I don’t know. (And I don’t really know that many people – is that a good thing or a bad thing?!) So what are the odds of meeting interesting, like-minded people through the blogosphere?

Pretty high. For one, I am able to know people that I otherwise would not have time to know, given people’s work schedules and my own. I am not restricted by any one else’s opinions, nor anyone else’s recommendations. I choose whose blogs to read based on my interest. I am not even restricted by geography. And that means that the people I get to know, I will 95% of the time hit it off with.

My boyfriend was rather worried the other day when I met a fellow blogger - protective soul that he is (which, by the way, I love him for, among other things). But I am happy to say that I genuinely enjoyed the meeting – there were a lot of common topics to discuss – and we even discovered that we knew a couple of people in common! This has reinforced my opinion that bloggers, at least those whom I seem to connect with, given that the average blogger spends quite a few minutes of his or her precious time writing about their experiences or beliefs or views, can potentially be some of the best people I have ever known.

And I hope I am never given cause to think otherwise!

Barista vs. Coffee Day

I was at Café Coffee Day the other day, and it was absolutely full. I was talking to a friend, having a rather interesting conversation about Indian corporates and business politics. My friend had a cup of coffee, as I sat listening to him. In fifteen minutes, his coffee cup was empty. Two minutes later, a person who appeared to be the manager of the establishment came and requested us to leave as there were ‘other customers waiting’. I won’t use the word ‘politely’ because the action itself was rude, arising purely out of the desire for profit. We walked out, not seeing the point in creating a fuss.

Such an incident has never happened to me at Barista, which is their direct competition here in India. In Starbucks, when I was in Europe, people would sit and read for hours, or just sit around and chat for hours. (Remember Central Perk in ‘Friends’? I don’t think the gang always had something to eat or drink when they visited their favourite hangout). In short, the whole IDEA of a café, in my opinion, is to create an atmosphere of comfort. It’s supposed to be a place where people can just go to be themselves, with or without company. And by asking us to leave, the Coffee Day people not only made me decide I would never patronize them again, it reinforced the thought I’ve always had in my head that the measure of success of an institution depends on how you treat your customers, not on how much money you make. Because money will come and go, but if the customers who give you your business don’t like what you have to offer or the way you offer it to them, they can pack their bags and go elsewhere.

And Coffee Day should realise that.

Happy Birthday to the Best Sister In the World!

So I am at work on a day which falls in the middle of a week that celebrates both Diwali and Id (Eid??) and therefore has three out of five working days as holidays. Which, in effect, means that there are not very many people at work and I can afford to sit and type this without feeling guilty (HA!).

A couple of weeks ago was my one and only sister’s birthday (yeah I know, a couple of weeks is late but better late than never, I say) and I want to wish her a very happy, if belated, birthday. I have tons of very strange names for her that I’m sure she thinks are really silly, but she answers to them anyway. Its quite funny, isn’t it – sometimes you really hate a particular moniker but after listening to it time and again by all and sundry, you actually answer to it whether you like it or not!

I remember when we were younger, we used to fight like cats and dogs. Usually, I used to wind up bawling even though I was the older one (Yes, ok, it really is true!). As we grew older, I remember chasing her around tables and chairs to give her a whack whenever we fought. Which, by the time I caught her, I never gave because I didn’t feel I could. Then as we progressed to being teenagers, I resorted to glaring at her when I was pissed with her. By then, she’d figured me out and used to grin and run away. Today, on the rare occasions that I do lose my temper, I just look very hurt. THAT, by the way, does the trick because 8 times out of 10 she feels remorse!

But S is the best sister one could have. She has grown into a very responsible, very sensitive child – she always will be a child to me, even though I suppose, technically she is a young woman now. The age gap between us is just about two years, and these days when I meet her, I feel like I am the younger one. She’s become more sedate, more serious. Still fun-loving though – and she always has tons of friends around! I know that I can tell her anything and she would understand.

I’ve told this to tons of my friends – and when I speak of my little sister, its one of the things that strikes me most. I don’t want her to grow up too soon. I don’t want her to lose her innocence – I don’t want any child to lose theirs but with her I am extra-protective.

But I can’t stop time. Everyone grows up. Everyone realizes that it wasn’t really Father Christmas who kept those gifts under the Christmas tree, nor was it the Tooth Fairy who slipped that shiny coin under their pillow.

As she grows one year older, I want to say Thank You for being the bestest sister in the world. We should spend more time together and I hope, even as the years go by, we always do. Happy Birthday Pipsqueak!

So they said

Some interesting quotes (taken from zigzackly's site) that I really think make sense. Usually the whole quote-unquote deal can be pretty boring to read, I know, but some people say things that genuinely make me feel like I should have said them!

Work like you don't need the money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching.
~ Satchel Paige

Either you think - or else others have to think for you and take power from you, pervert and discipline your natural tastes, civilize and sterilize you.
~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

Our deeds determine us, as much as we determine our deeds.
~ George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans), novelist (1819-1880)

Assumptions are the termites of relationships.
~ Henry Winkler, actor (1945- )

Manners be damned…?

I was returning to Bangalore by flight yesterday. There was an aged couple (both at least 80 years old) travelling on the flight with their daughter (at least 50 years old). At the Bangalore airport, on the shuttle bus from the flight to the arrivals terminal, there was no seat left for the old gentleman to sit, as they alighted from the plane last. I offered my seat to him – indeed I could not have imagined doing otherwise. But to my surprise and consternation, not one other single person offered their seat to the other lady.

I have done the same on the London tube, and on a local Coimbatore bus. Am I expecting too much when I say that basic courtesy dictates that any aged person should have priority of seating? And is India so heartless than in a flight full of what I would assume are educated individuals, not even one other person has the so-called Indian culture or values in them?

The monster called IIPM

As a blogger, I feel it is my duty to rise to the occasion and let the people who read MY blog know what is going on. Amit Varma has summarized the issue well, but anyway here is my little bit on it.

I was writing just yesterday about freedom of speech and expression, especially that of the written and blogged word. As it happens, that has direct reference to what I am about to mention. Rashmi Bansal, editor of a youth magazine called JAM is being targeted by IIPM because of an article published in her magazine way back in June. The article was an expose on the tall claims made by the management 'corporation' (I can justify my using that title because of the kind of advertising the organisation has been doing, more like a corporation than an educational institute), Indian Institute of Planning and Management (IIPM), headed by Arindam Chaudhuri. I have read a number of their advertisements in many dailies over the past months and have been highly skeptical about what they say – that the institute is almost on par with the IIM’s, that their students are placed in top companies, their infrastructure is out of this world (Wi-Fi, swimming pools and so on and so forth). The truth is that a lot of these statements are not facts, and this is what was unearthed by JAM. Anyway, to cut a long story short, Rashmi’s blog got some ridiculous and disgusting comments targeting her personally, over the last few days. None of the comment-posters (supposed to be IIPM or ex-IIPM students) clearly mention their identity or are able to refute JAM’s claims. In addition to this, Gaurav Sabnis, an employee of IBM and an active blogger in his own right, took up her cause and wrote his own views about it on his personal blog.

It so happens that IBM supplies laptops to IIPM. After issuing a legal notice to Gaurav, IIPM put pressure on IBM to ask him to delete his posts with reference to IIPM and the JAM article and apologise, or resign from IBM.

Today, Gaurav Sabnis resigned, because he believes that that was the right thing to do, that it was the ONLY thing to do to keep his self-respect intact.

Desi Pundit has a lot of links to people who are raising their voices in support of Rashmi, Gaurav and free speech. Blogging can be a powerful tool to spread awareness, and I intend this post to be one too.

1984

This article by Egyptian weekly Al-Ahram brings to the fore a question that must puzzle many an intellectual – where should a journalist draw the line when writing or exposing information for public review? The article mentions Spain’s sentencing of Taysir Allouni, an Al-Jazeera reporter, to seven years in prison for alleged links with the Al-Qaeda. Allouni interviewed Osama bin Laden a few weeks after 9/11, and the prosecution apparently used excerpts from this interview as evidence against him, a point that has been brought up by Reporters Without Borders, a non-profit working for the rights of reporters worldwide. They argue that if terrorism was what he was sentenced for, then his interview (which was a professional engagement more than anything else), should not have been brought up in court.

"It is inherent in the nature of the work of any professional journalist to meet and extract information from players on all sides of the political spectrum," head of the London-based Arab Press Freedom Watch organisation Ibrahim Nawwar told Al-Ahram Weekly. "In the case of Allouni, he cast doubt on his intentions by meeting Al-Qaeda heads."

Extending this argument to you and me, suppose I were to be vocal about my opinions on America, which are probably not to the liking of the current government there. If someone were to read something I wrote about my ideas, would I be liable for prosecution? Probably, in a fettered society. And yet student protesters even 10 days ago were killed in Meghalaya for making their voice known. Does that make our 21st century society a fettered one inspite of the onslaught of media reports and systems that we have access to that were not available decades ago?

What happens to freedom of speech then?

This of course throws up a host of related questions: does anyone have the right to censor someone’s expressions or voice or, because it is not in keeping with one’s personal beliefs or views, persecute them? Reminds me of an episode of The Big Fight I saw on NDTV once, where people were debating the right of the Censor Board to decree what people can and cannot watch. My 20-year-old cousin was a member of the audience and I recall her answering Barkha Dutt’s question and opining that she did not think the Censor Board had the right to question the intelligence of the public, to discern what was right or wrong for them. That choice should be left to them.

Likewise for us. I think we all have the right to write about our actions as long as we can stand by them and they do not harm anyone.

As an educated individual, that is what I believe. The battle is on and my ramparts are officially manned. Counter, you fanatics out there!

It's a time to move on...

I’ve been busy the whole week. New city (sort of), new people around and new work. Too many new things at once. But that’s what life is about, in a way, I suppose. Moving on to greener pastures. Incidentally, my new house-mate was talking about how she was looking for a new place to stay some time last year, but that was just when she got a new job. So she decided to stay put because too many new things at once would be too much to handle. I agree with that logic too – everything all together can sometimes make you feel like Alice in Wonderland. But I suppose those kind of situations are where your real mettle shows through. Either you can, or you can’t. At the end of the day, its all different for different people. That’s the beauty of humans. No two people will react the same way to the same situation.

Anyway, life has been busy, and I’m grateful. Work sees me wondering what on earth I’m doing versus what I’m supposed to be doing, but I’m getting the hang of it!

On a completely different note, I’ve been noticing that lots of bloggers have an Alice in Wonderland quote somewhere on their pages. And no wonder – some of them are genuinely funny, or just shockingly philosophical, given that the age at which most people are introduced to them is sub-ten years. Some interesting ones:

'But then,' thought Alice. 'shall I never get any older than I am now? That'll be a comfort, one way--never to be an old woman--but then--always to have lessons to learn!'

`But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.`Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat: `we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.'`How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice.`You must be,' said the Cat, `or you wouldn't have come here.'

`Now, I give you fair warning,' shouted the Queen, stamping on the ground as she spoke; `either you or your head must be off, and that in about half no time! Take your choice!'

I don't believe there's an atom of meaning in it.

Read the directions and directly you will be directed in the right direction.

Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only knew how to begin.

Ah! Then yours wasn't a really good school. Now at ours they had at the end of the bill. French, music, and washing -- extra.

Favourite Songs Part 2

This is an addendum to my list of favourite songs Part 1. Continued:

26. Can’t fight the moonlight – LeAnn Rimes from Coyote Ugly film soundtrack

27. Fallin’ – Alicia Keys

28. I’ve had the time of my life – Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes from Dirty Dancing film soundtrack

29. Take it easy – The Eagles

30. Build me up buttercup – The Foundations from the There’s Something About Mary film soundtrack

31. Sing - Travis

32. When doves cry – Romeo and Juliet film soundtrack

33. Didi – Khaled

34. Yellow – Coldplay

35. Beautiful Day – U2

36. Wonderwall – Oasis

37. In the end – Linkin Park

38. Romeo and Juliet – Dire Straits

39. A thousand miles – Vanessa Carlton

40. Virtual insanity – Jamiroquai

41. Zombie – The Cranberries

42. Imagine – John Lennon

43. Sounds of Silence – Simon and Garfunkel

44. Bridge over troubles water – Simon and Garfunkel

45. Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme – Simon and Garfunkel

46. Let it be – The Beatles

47. Strawberry Fields Forever – The Beatles

48. With a little help from my friends – The Beatles

49. She’s a woman – The Beatles

50. Please Mr. Postman – The Beatles cover version

The Beatles songs thanks to inspiration from Sharad. Been listening to a lot of ‘em the last few days. And I realize that there are probably going to be many more songs to listen to, and whole albums to appreciate – these are just a few of the ones I like till now.

Also, this is a call for musical inspiration – I’d love to see lists of other people’s favourite songs, with reasons for why they like those songs as part of my musical education, which like every other education is going to be lifelong as far as I am concerned :-)

Imprints...

It’s ok to feel confused. To feel sad, and happy at the same time. To feel tired. Today I realize that I will soon be saying goodbye to yet another city, a city that is now part of me and my history because I lived here for a while. No matter how much I may want to change that fact (and I don’t really), it will remain. That’s the funny thing about cities. They are just spatial organizations of things – people, buildings, animals (especially in India!), traffic lights, roads, trees, parks – and yet without your really consciously being aware of it, all these things slowly filter into the recesses of your mind and you don’t realize it till you are safely ensconced in another place, another time, another city. It’s been such a regular pattern for me, with my moving countries, cities, houses, away from a set of friends and suddenly to another, that I have only NOW – after all these years, realized that all the places and things that inhabit them, that I have been part of in the past, will forever be part of me. And each one of them has somehow contributed to shaping me and making me what I am. Rather, changing me for the better. And that’s the other thing – it’s always for the better, really. Even if you initially think it isn’t. So I want to say Thank You to all the places I’ve lived in, even visited, and all the people that have known me, whether I am in touch with them today or not. If you have had even a few conversations with me that you remember, then be sure that I remember them too and I will always be glad I had the opportunity.

Blogging Blues

Haven’t blogged for a bit. Am in the midst of shifting cities, but as I was pondering what I could put up on my blog as an excuse, I figured that I am probably going to be going somewhere or doing something for the rest of my life (seeing as how I am a vociferous supporter of the ‘idle mind is a devil’s workshop’ philosophy). So trying to figure out excuses is not going to really help in the long run, what say?! Anyway, blogging is fun. If you a) know what you want to write about b) have strong opinions about something, either pro or con. Being in-between or admitting that both sides of the coin are not so bad, does NOT help. c) have time to surf a million websites so you can sift through what is interesting and then provide an insight or opinion on that None of which groups, as I have mentioned before, I usually am part of. But what the hell, the whole point of blogging is that I can say whatever I want and get away with it…I suppose! And it still is fun.... So this is a call to anyone who reads this blog. Got this idea from Selective Amnesia: if anybody reads this blog and I’m not linking to them, please let me know. It would be interesting to know what kind of people read my blog, and I’d be happy to link to them. Life is all about learning about different views on different things. Make your life that much richer!

Memories of rainy days

You know those days when you sit and stare out of a window, cocooned in your little room alone with the weather royally thunderous or just dauntingly grey outside? I’ve had that experience in many different cities of the world. The interesting thing is that your outlook on life tends to be the same, but what will differ is the view from the window. Madras, and the greenery right outside my ground-floor hostel room. The drip-drip-drop of the rain as it splashes on the plants outside. The electricity suddenly goes off, and the book I am reading almost merges with the darkness created by the storm-clouds that sultry evening. Mellow laughter and conversations can be heard from the corridor outside as the girls continue their cheery banter, momentarily disrupted by the sudden darkness. An hour passes, the electricity is back. But somehow, the arresting solitude and beauty of those moments is spoilt. I wish for darkness to descend once again. Coimbatore, and the cool breeze brought by the gathering rain-clouds. I sit transfixed in my balcony, under the branches of the majestic tamarind tree right outside, in my grandfather’s old rosewood chair with extendable arms. They don’t make them like that anymore. Typically Kerala. I lean back and put my feet up on them. And watch in silent wonder as the drizzle turns to huge splattering drops. Nothing quite like it. I sigh happily. London, and a view of the Big Ben in the distance. This is the heart of London, with the city spreading out for miles from my two windows. Rain in London, is, well, dreary and constant, for lack of better adjectives. It is almost a part of daily life, so well has it become integrated with the routine of Londoners. If you’re smart, then you carry an umbrella (if you can bother to tote one about, which I never can, even today), or have a rolled-up raincoat stacked safely away in your bag, because you never know when the sun will pull a prank on you and be replaced with those looming clouds. But my room-with-a-view is warm and comfortable, a typical student’s room with a nice stereo system. That makes all the difference. I switch it on and listen to Gabrielle singing ‘Out of Reach’. It makes me want to be a writer, pouring out those soulful lyrics. I sing in tandem, surprising myself with my sudden ability to sing the high notes. Brussels, (Skepsi, I can’t thank you enough for all the help you and Eve gave me those days) and my little studio room with a slanting roof. Europe is something else altogether. I feel like I am part of history, though I am jolly well part of the present. Sunday morning and I lie in bed, sometimes feeling as if the skylight on the slanting roof would give way and the rain would splatter right onto me as I lay underneath snugly in my blanket. (I don’t think I ever got over that feeling in all my time there) I close my eyes, not wanting to think of the future, but just enjoying the moment for what it is. Bangalore, and I sit quietly in the little common area with my house-mates. They chatter, I listen. A lovely breeze blows through. I shiver in pleasure. Then we start playing antakshari and all hell breaks loose! Delhi, and me. This is now. As I sit typing this with the grey sky outside again, I remember how I felt in all those places through the years. I re-live them. I remember how I felt each time. This city has been more intimidating than all the rest, and yet it has grown on me. I have everything needed to live a decent life here in my one-room-shelter. And yet I have nothing. It suddenly clicks. I’ve had different window-views in different places, but what I really have wanted all along, I haven’t got yet – not yet, but he will be with me soon.

Murder

Swiftly through the forest The stately panther walked. Flesh! The carnivorous smell - Prey he started to stalk. Stealthily and silently, Padded paws aligned, The man was caught unawares On him the panther dined.

Sports, politics and religion - the cauldron bubbles

Sania Mirza moves up to No.34 in the world rankings after making it to the last 16 in the US Open and Anju Bobby George climbs to No. 4 in long jump world rankings after her silver at the World Athletics Championship in Monaco. Excellent news for Indian sports. But beyond the stadium lights, there is a bit of what I’d call prejudice at work. Read this article in Calcutta’s The Telegraph, which puts down very well what is happening in India to sportspeople who are not so good with their PR: “One is glamorous, cocky, looks and sounds good on TV and is world no. 42 in her sport. The other, with average looks and excelling in a non-spectator sport, is world no. 6. The first, tennis ace Sania Mirza, commands the second-highest sponsorship fees in India after Sachin Tendulkar and is on record that she doesn’t need government aid any more. The second, grandmaster Koneru Humpy, appealed to the Andhra Pradesh government for funds so that she could train for the world chess championships coming up early next year. So who did the money go to?” You don’t need to read the article to know the answer. Sania Mirza it is. The government of Andhra Pradesh has so far given her Rs. 60 lakh and a housing plot, and has ignored Humpy’s requests. All is fair and love, war and sports? On another note, a Muslim boy in Ranchi was pulled up by the madrassa for putting up a poster of Sania Mirza on a wall in his room. When the boy was brought in front of the seminary, he argued that he was an Irfan Pathan fan too. To which the retort was whether he was aware or not of the dresses the two sported. (!!!!!!!!!!!!) Religion can make for highly confused individuals sometimes.

Filmi fashion

For all you film and fashion buffs out there, here’s an update on the latest fashion trends, inspired by Bollywood. Details here, but I’m picking out only those from that list that I think really rock: 1. Rani Mukherji in Bunty aur Babli: Of course, this one does and should take the cake, because I have been seeing replicas of her collared kurti everywhere from high streets to teleserials, in the best and brightest of colours. Way to go, Babli! 2. John Abraham in Dhoom: This guy rocks. Totally. Leather jackets and gelled hair became very very in, especially for Road Romeos wandering about. But no one can beat John – sorry guys! 3. Aamir Khan in Mangal Pandey: The handlebar moustache look. Who can forget it?! Except I don’t know even one man who can carry it off in real life….. 4. Sushmita Sen in Main Hoon Na: This I vouch for. She was as sexy as a woman can get in a saree with her chiffon ensembles. Except you need a body to go with it! 5. Hrithik Roshan in Lakshya: The crew cut, in keeping with his army look. Extremely smart. Women always have a thing for men in uniform, you know. 6. Preity Zinta in Salaam Namaste: Tube tops and feather hair-cuts ahoy. The woman looks young, cool, and very very trendy.

Cannibal Cosmecuticles

TOI reports here that China uses skin from executed convicts to develop beauty products for sale in Europe. The fact that this is used especially to produce collagen for lip and wrinkle treatments, so popular in the West, has led to human rights activists calling it 'cannibal cosmecuticles'.

I'd be happy with ageing skin. Much better to age naturally than prevent wrinkles using this - ugh!