# STORY IDEA FOR STING OPERATORS: Sharad Pawar admitted to Escorts Hospital here this (Friday) afternoon after he complained of restlessness and uneasiness, says PTI.Interestingly, the BCCI chief-cum Maharashtra strongman-cum union agriculture minister-cum NCP chief-cum MCA chief received an apology from Ricky Ponting on Thursday.
The Oz skipper apparently said he was sorry for trying to push Pawar off the podium to receive the ICC Champions Trophy recently.Did ‘Punter’ say something that forced Pawar to “complain of exhaustion this afternoon and rushed to hospital where doctors advised him two days’ rest”?
Juice for tabloid TV, which incidentally includes all news channels bar none; what say?
# Skyline Construction & Housing Pvt Ltd, a Bangalore-based real estate developer, today (Friday) signed India cricket captain Rahul Dravid as its brand ambassador, says PTI.
Just wondering: With a brand ambassador like that will the company construct anything beyond walls?
# "We know who had created a rift between Anil and Mukesh Ambani and why...But the blame was put on SP leader Amar Singh." That's Mulayam Yadav, slamming BJP and Congress for "solluding" to bering down his govt.
Just curious: Who was it, Yadav-ji? Care to tell us?
Friday, November 10, 2006
Monday, October 23, 2006
Pretty good to clinching…ISI ka naam evidence
When the national security advisor says he would be “hesitant to say that we have clinching evidence” against the ISI hand in the Mumbai trains blasts, it’s time to sit up and take note.
But no time, says our media. The truth is out there, and if the Mumbai Police chief says it’s those bloody Pakis who did it, it better be those bloody Pakis. So, get out and grab it, that bloody truth. No time for further introspection, the state of the bleeding notwithstanding.
It matters little here that the media would have grabbed the bloody truth from out there and trashed it down your gullet even if the Mumbai Police had not raised its bleeding fingers against those bloody Pakis. It matters even little that the Mumbai Police would either way have raised its bleeding fingers against those bloody Pakis, truth or no truth, as it eventually did.
The only thing, my dear Watson, is Mr Roy took so much time to raise his fingers and address the press conference.
You see, out here in India it’s easier to catch ‘terrorists’ than to successfully reap cotton. Just let the public anger simmer a bit and get a few guys from the ‘minority community’. No name-calling, just blame-calling, and, bingo, you have the terror network unearthed, unplugged and undone. Proof, evidence and such trifling things are, of course, not necessary in view of national interest.
Did Mr Roy, or Mumbai Police, manage to convince even a trainee reporter of any of their “findings” in that press conference? Lies, damned lies and garbage apart, the answer would be NO.
They traced a few phone calls, sure; tracked and arrested a few suspicious-looking men, sure; made them ‘confess’ to their ISI/SIMI/HUJI/LET/JEM/CAT/SCAN/MBA/BBA links (the last four are, of course, gibberish, but how many in our tribe would be able to spot that, given the surfeit of acronyms surfacing in our media about Pak hands?), sure. And then addressed a press conference.
Little wonder their version, oftener than not, do not stand scrutiny in court of law. Little wonder most of their witnesses either turn ‘hostile’ or are out of wits when the case is on.
Wrong I may well be, and wrong I sure do hope I am, but will someone please bat an eyelid, scratch the head a bit, murmur a few “but…” and ask some probing questions before reporting the police claims verbatim?
“We have pretty good evidence," says M K Narayanan now. And that’s as good a note to hum the shriek, a la Cuba Gooding Jr in Jerry Maguire: Show me the evidence.
But no time, says our media. The truth is out there, and if the Mumbai Police chief says it’s those bloody Pakis who did it, it better be those bloody Pakis. So, get out and grab it, that bloody truth. No time for further introspection, the state of the bleeding notwithstanding.
It matters little here that the media would have grabbed the bloody truth from out there and trashed it down your gullet even if the Mumbai Police had not raised its bleeding fingers against those bloody Pakis. It matters even little that the Mumbai Police would either way have raised its bleeding fingers against those bloody Pakis, truth or no truth, as it eventually did.
The only thing, my dear Watson, is Mr Roy took so much time to raise his fingers and address the press conference.
You see, out here in India it’s easier to catch ‘terrorists’ than to successfully reap cotton. Just let the public anger simmer a bit and get a few guys from the ‘minority community’. No name-calling, just blame-calling, and, bingo, you have the terror network unearthed, unplugged and undone. Proof, evidence and such trifling things are, of course, not necessary in view of national interest.
Did Mr Roy, or Mumbai Police, manage to convince even a trainee reporter of any of their “findings” in that press conference? Lies, damned lies and garbage apart, the answer would be NO.
They traced a few phone calls, sure; tracked and arrested a few suspicious-looking men, sure; made them ‘confess’ to their ISI/SIMI/HUJI/LET/JEM/CAT/SCAN/MBA/BBA links (the last four are, of course, gibberish, but how many in our tribe would be able to spot that, given the surfeit of acronyms surfacing in our media about Pak hands?), sure. And then addressed a press conference.
Little wonder their version, oftener than not, do not stand scrutiny in court of law. Little wonder most of their witnesses either turn ‘hostile’ or are out of wits when the case is on.
Wrong I may well be, and wrong I sure do hope I am, but will someone please bat an eyelid, scratch the head a bit, murmur a few “but…” and ask some probing questions before reporting the police claims verbatim?
“We have pretty good evidence," says M K Narayanan now. And that’s as good a note to hum the shriek, a la Cuba Gooding Jr in Jerry Maguire: Show me the evidence.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Post-Diwali blues, on National hangover Day
Oh ho, hmm (background score: Mr Santa Strikes the Keyboard), after a long, long time. On a day with no newspapers; post-Diwali, of course. Life sounds a little less rosy; without those sounds, lights, fights, bits and bytes of P3 and such overtly happy images strung together with words.
Lucky, at least I don’t have a kid or a dog; or they would have had to do with old papers from the stack today. And, trust them, that’s no fun.
But — and here’s the inevitable poser for the day — why do all journalists in all newspapers in almost all cities need a daylong off to hit the bottle all together? (I go under the presumption that most journalists, save some irritatingly sane ones, do the only earth shatteringly ponderous thing worth every bit of their journalse on such holidays; i.e. sit in front of a bottle and see it go from full to half-full to, hic, fulltoo).
And why, pray, on the other hand, don’t TV journalists get a break? (I go under the presumption, of course, that most human beings, save some irritatingly insane ones, do the only earth shatteringly ponderous thing worth every bit of their sanity every day of their life; i.e. sit in front of TV, with the news channel switched on for lack of better entertainment, and wonder why those overworked characters putting together the item numbers on the news slots ask for more holidays. Both for themselves and us).
There was no cricket match on the telly today (to give them all a break on the National Hangover Day, of course), so I watched some TV news this afternoon while getting ready, nursing The Hangover and trying not to get late for office (all at the same time; my IQ level, as you can gauge from this testimony, is definitely not in the negative). There was haze all over; in the Delhi air, as reported duly by TV. Brillianto, methinks. Bring out the sting operation on Aeges mosquito now. I can almost smell the deathly opening score as the anchor describes the inhuman torture meted out to their whole tribe by blast-crazy Delhiites.
Suddenly sober, I rest my case.
(Background score: Oh Surreal, Oh Surreal, Mr Banta Gets Nariyal)
Lucky, at least I don’t have a kid or a dog; or they would have had to do with old papers from the stack today. And, trust them, that’s no fun.
But — and here’s the inevitable poser for the day — why do all journalists in all newspapers in almost all cities need a daylong off to hit the bottle all together? (I go under the presumption that most journalists, save some irritatingly sane ones, do the only earth shatteringly ponderous thing worth every bit of their journalse on such holidays; i.e. sit in front of a bottle and see it go from full to half-full to, hic, fulltoo).
And why, pray, on the other hand, don’t TV journalists get a break? (I go under the presumption, of course, that most human beings, save some irritatingly insane ones, do the only earth shatteringly ponderous thing worth every bit of their sanity every day of their life; i.e. sit in front of TV, with the news channel switched on for lack of better entertainment, and wonder why those overworked characters putting together the item numbers on the news slots ask for more holidays. Both for themselves and us).
There was no cricket match on the telly today (to give them all a break on the National Hangover Day, of course), so I watched some TV news this afternoon while getting ready, nursing The Hangover and trying not to get late for office (all at the same time; my IQ level, as you can gauge from this testimony, is definitely not in the negative). There was haze all over; in the Delhi air, as reported duly by TV. Brillianto, methinks. Bring out the sting operation on Aeges mosquito now. I can almost smell the deathly opening score as the anchor describes the inhuman torture meted out to their whole tribe by blast-crazy Delhiites.
Suddenly sober, I rest my case.
(Background score: Oh Surreal, Oh Surreal, Mr Banta Gets Nariyal)
Monday, August 07, 2006
there's a leak in House. Run, PM, run
Everyone, and the Opposition, wants the prime minister to go. Nope, I don’t pretend to nurse any special affection for any leader, but, come on, out over something as flimsy as a “leak” from one of the few hundred commissions set up every year? A little ridiculous, eh? “Breach of privilege”. What breach, and whose privilege?
A small, ignorant question: Haven’t we had such “leaks” before? Don’t our “commissions” work a bit like that tap next to the potty, forever leaking? Haven’t our media houses always seen the next front page, and the next 10-o-clock-news lead, thanks to the commissions’ propensity to leak at odd hours?
But has any prime minister/leader ever quit over something as t(r)icklish as that? Strange things (leaking House, choking drains, soaking spirit, stinking environ) sure do happen in monsoons.
A small, ignorant question: Haven’t we had such “leaks” before? Don’t our “commissions” work a bit like that tap next to the potty, forever leaking? Haven’t our media houses always seen the next front page, and the next 10-o-clock-news lead, thanks to the commissions’ propensity to leak at odd hours?
But has any prime minister/leader ever quit over something as t(r)icklish as that? Strange things (leaking House, choking drains, soaking spirit, stinking environ) sure do happen in monsoons.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
sudennly surprised: is our blasted 'war against terror' over?
Suddenly surprised Subject sees satanicworses sit up and actually open.
The poor and abortive attempt at alliteration apart, it was a shock. A terribly late, horribly outdated and completely redundant-by-now shock. But a shock still. For some weirder than weird reason, the blogger site refused to open and blink at me, on at least this terminal in office, even after the infotech ministry (or whoever) withdrew (or did whatever) with the post-Mumbai blasts ban.
A friend who knows a tad more about computers than merely spelling it out said it was a problem with the feed that my office gets.
Whatever…
Been a long time. And with not a lot of reason to hit the keyboards at this time of the night, that, perhaps, has to do so far as “reason” for this particular blog goes. Loads of grouse and garbage about the ban later (some newspapers even devoted a WHOLE page to blogger-grouse during the ban), I am still unable to eject a rear-splitting expletive at whoever was responsible for getting the ban in place. That, perhaps, has got a lot to do with the fact that I really use the medium for keying in garbage (like this), unlike wiser, thought-provoking souls who write wiser, allegedly thought-provoking garbage.
But THEY wanted a war against terrorism, didn’t they? All those smooth-talking, smart-looking, English-speaking, liberalism-spouting Alecs and Alices on prime-time TV discussions after the July 7 (just can’t get myself to call it 7/11) blasts. Crack down, they said. Wage a WAR, they said. Take a leaf outta George W’s book of “Patriot Act” (Read Michael Moore for more on that), they said.
WAR AGAINST TERROR, they said.
Freaking hell! Sounds way too cool for anything ever conducted in India!
They got it, didn’t they? With the embargo against some of the sites (shites, as Irvine Welsh would perhaps have said). But, lo, there they went again — crying wolf. How in the name of freedom can the government clamp down on the only freedom we ever tasted? they demanded. In newspaper article after opinion piece.
What can I say? You wanted a war, buddy, you got one. War, by its very definition, means an emergency. Make that Emergency, with capital ‘E’. There can’t be a semi- or partial war. Not against terror. Not against drugs. Not against abortion. Not against any of those others (Commies, semi-Commies, Arabs, semi-Arabs, sense, nonsense) that that Bush boy fought.
A war means total clampdown. Want war? Get ready to bid your blog bye-bye. Otherwise, shut up and spare us the balderdash.
The poor and abortive attempt at alliteration apart, it was a shock. A terribly late, horribly outdated and completely redundant-by-now shock. But a shock still. For some weirder than weird reason, the blogger site refused to open and blink at me, on at least this terminal in office, even after the infotech ministry (or whoever) withdrew (or did whatever) with the post-Mumbai blasts ban.
A friend who knows a tad more about computers than merely spelling it out said it was a problem with the feed that my office gets.
Whatever…
Been a long time. And with not a lot of reason to hit the keyboards at this time of the night, that, perhaps, has to do so far as “reason” for this particular blog goes. Loads of grouse and garbage about the ban later (some newspapers even devoted a WHOLE page to blogger-grouse during the ban), I am still unable to eject a rear-splitting expletive at whoever was responsible for getting the ban in place. That, perhaps, has got a lot to do with the fact that I really use the medium for keying in garbage (like this), unlike wiser, thought-provoking souls who write wiser, allegedly thought-provoking garbage.
But THEY wanted a war against terrorism, didn’t they? All those smooth-talking, smart-looking, English-speaking, liberalism-spouting Alecs and Alices on prime-time TV discussions after the July 7 (just can’t get myself to call it 7/11) blasts. Crack down, they said. Wage a WAR, they said. Take a leaf outta George W’s book of “Patriot Act” (Read Michael Moore for more on that), they said.
WAR AGAINST TERROR, they said.
Freaking hell! Sounds way too cool for anything ever conducted in India!
They got it, didn’t they? With the embargo against some of the sites (shites, as Irvine Welsh would perhaps have said). But, lo, there they went again — crying wolf. How in the name of freedom can the government clamp down on the only freedom we ever tasted? they demanded. In newspaper article after opinion piece.
What can I say? You wanted a war, buddy, you got one. War, by its very definition, means an emergency. Make that Emergency, with capital ‘E’. There can’t be a semi- or partial war. Not against terror. Not against drugs. Not against abortion. Not against any of those others (Commies, semi-Commies, Arabs, semi-Arabs, sense, nonsense) that that Bush boy fought.
A war means total clampdown. Want war? Get ready to bid your blog bye-bye. Otherwise, shut up and spare us the balderdash.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
i love politicians; they let my brain rest on sundays
Sunday is fun day; yup, even for politicians (comments in parentheses are, of course, mine):
LK Advani says serial blasts in Mumbai locals are the worst terrorist activity in the country’s history.
(Just revealed: BJP will soon pen a top-10 terror activity list, with Babri demolition topping the charts — at zero)
Venkaiah Naidu is infuriated at lack of Z-category security for him in Bangalore
(Just revealed by my 2-yr-old nephew: Z stands for zoo)
Uddhav Thackeray says: “People have now realised they should have made Balasaheb the PM to deal with terrorism in tough manner.”
(Revealed by intelligence sources: Uddhav’s brain found in one of the blasted compartments in Matunga)
Gopinath Munde says: though all Muslims can’t be labelled terrorists, “it’s a fact that all terrorists behind the recent (Mumbai) attacks were Muslims”.
(Revealed by Munde’s brain: “I just dropped out of the fissure of his rear.” Meanwhile, intelligence duds put up housefool notice outside Munde’s house for more of the exclusive “fact”.)
Raj Thackeray says: despite getting info from Delhi before blasts Deshmukh govt was busier closing down dance bars.
(BUSTED! Sakhi Sawant was source of info from Delhi)
LK Advani says serial blasts in Mumbai locals are the worst terrorist activity in the country’s history.
(Just revealed: BJP will soon pen a top-10 terror activity list, with Babri demolition topping the charts — at zero)
Venkaiah Naidu is infuriated at lack of Z-category security for him in Bangalore
(Just revealed by my 2-yr-old nephew: Z stands for zoo)
Uddhav Thackeray says: “People have now realised they should have made Balasaheb the PM to deal with terrorism in tough manner.”
(Revealed by intelligence sources: Uddhav’s brain found in one of the blasted compartments in Matunga)
Gopinath Munde says: though all Muslims can’t be labelled terrorists, “it’s a fact that all terrorists behind the recent (Mumbai) attacks were Muslims”.
(Revealed by Munde’s brain: “I just dropped out of the fissure of his rear.” Meanwhile, intelligence duds put up housefool notice outside Munde’s house for more of the exclusive “fact”.)
Raj Thackeray says: despite getting info from Delhi before blasts Deshmukh govt was busier closing down dance bars.
(BUSTED! Sakhi Sawant was source of info from Delhi)
Friday, July 14, 2006
Karan Johar's next blasted flick: Kabhi khushi, kabhi bum
First the terrorists killed and maimed Mumbai; dazed and fazed the rest.
First day, first blood over, the media told us they failed to either kill or hurt that indomitable Mumbai spirit (said in a thousand different ways, imagery, analyses reports (alias rotten poetry); more imagery, more analyses. And more nauseating poetry.
So far so good; only if you keep shut and overlook the oh-a-touch-hackneyed bit (come on, even stiff upped-lipped Brit broads went overboard after their London bombing; and loose upper-limbed tabs hurdled over even the overboard).
But now the media are on another spirited fatal spree — killing us softly with guile, dulling us softly.
The spirit has outlived its term, the imagery tugging at us from the depth of Mumbai’s bowels; the shoddy poetry has turned comatose, the rest of the mumbo-jumbo taking shape of media-injected reams of euthanasia.
So what, pray, is this spirit? Damned if we knew.
People on their way to work, undeterred, spirited reporters tell us with even more spirit from all corners of Mumbai. That’s the moral fibre, they insist.
Without taking anything away from the city and its citizens, that would be the case in all Indian cities — with or without blasts. Fatalistic to a fault, we Indians have turned stoicism into an art form, impassiveness our sixth sense.
With day-wagers forming the major part of our work force, absence from work means more than a cross and naught on the check-in register. It means a day’s pay gone; a helluva lot more than our enthusiastic, spirited reporters would bother to tell us.
Reason why there were more crowd in the second-class compartments of those same locals in which the telly reporters got bits and bytes from half-empty first-classes (if only the camera guys had zoomed out and given us a shot of the entire carriage…)
It may sound crass — tragedy has a way of dulling our senses, and that dullness increases proportionately with the toll — but it just might be all about class. Ergo, the empty first-classes; and the record number of private vehicles on roads the day after the blasts.
So what is that spirit? It’s the same as the one in you and me; and the same sepia-tinted one possessed by your father and mine. “We're the people — we go on”. As Steinbeck put it in Grapes of Wrath.
Don’t let the media bullshit you; the only extra spirit in Mumbai lie in its thousand-odd extra bars. The rest is media drivel to 'sell' stories.
First day, first blood over, the media told us they failed to either kill or hurt that indomitable Mumbai spirit (said in a thousand different ways, imagery, analyses reports (alias rotten poetry); more imagery, more analyses. And more nauseating poetry.
So far so good; only if you keep shut and overlook the oh-a-touch-hackneyed bit (come on, even stiff upped-lipped Brit broads went overboard after their London bombing; and loose upper-limbed tabs hurdled over even the overboard).
But now the media are on another spirited fatal spree — killing us softly with guile, dulling us softly.
The spirit has outlived its term, the imagery tugging at us from the depth of Mumbai’s bowels; the shoddy poetry has turned comatose, the rest of the mumbo-jumbo taking shape of media-injected reams of euthanasia.
So what, pray, is this spirit? Damned if we knew.
People on their way to work, undeterred, spirited reporters tell us with even more spirit from all corners of Mumbai. That’s the moral fibre, they insist.
Without taking anything away from the city and its citizens, that would be the case in all Indian cities — with or without blasts. Fatalistic to a fault, we Indians have turned stoicism into an art form, impassiveness our sixth sense.
With day-wagers forming the major part of our work force, absence from work means more than a cross and naught on the check-in register. It means a day’s pay gone; a helluva lot more than our enthusiastic, spirited reporters would bother to tell us.
Reason why there were more crowd in the second-class compartments of those same locals in which the telly reporters got bits and bytes from half-empty first-classes (if only the camera guys had zoomed out and given us a shot of the entire carriage…)
It may sound crass — tragedy has a way of dulling our senses, and that dullness increases proportionately with the toll — but it just might be all about class. Ergo, the empty first-classes; and the record number of private vehicles on roads the day after the blasts.
So what is that spirit? It’s the same as the one in you and me; and the same sepia-tinted one possessed by your father and mine. “We're the people — we go on”. As Steinbeck put it in Grapes of Wrath.
Don’t let the media bullshit you; the only extra spirit in Mumbai lie in its thousand-odd extra bars. The rest is media drivel to 'sell' stories.
Friday, July 07, 2006
india's amazing bull (dung) run: moooo
It never fails to amaze how the Indian English media -- aye, everyone, bar none -- never fail to enlighten us about the good run (bull run? iz dat a smart header?) of the Indian economy/economics/eco-now-don't-mix-politix. Sensex ride or crash? See ya on front page tomorrow. Laxmi Mittal's hopefully-seen-last-episode Dallas-esque saga? Lead, buddy lead; don't you try to kid.
It takes a bit, thus, to tell yourself that you are among the few fattened/fattening/already-fat cows (just you wait till you see the Subject's weight).
Here, Pankaj Mishra takes the bull 9and its ride) by the horns, in The NYT (good god, how could our half-stoned, forever closer to NY and moon op-ed walas fail to spot that 'un? or did poor, sloppy me fail to spot it?):
India? Mittal made his first investment here barely last year.
India? 127th on the UN Human Development index; and all the blah, blah, and more blah...
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/07/06/opinion/06mishra.html?ex=1152936000&en=e0f378e458b13f62&ei=5070
It takes a bit, thus, to tell yourself that you are among the few fattened/fattening/already-fat cows (just you wait till you see the Subject's weight).
Here, Pankaj Mishra takes the bull 9and its ride) by the horns, in The NYT (good god, how could our half-stoned, forever closer to NY and moon op-ed walas fail to spot that 'un? or did poor, sloppy me fail to spot it?):
India? Mittal made his first investment here barely last year.
India? 127th on the UN Human Development index; and all the blah, blah, and more blah...
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/07/06/opinion/06mishra.html?ex=1152936000&en=e0f378e458b13f62&ei=5070
Monday, June 19, 2006
hack chhoo! cough time whistle
This IS brilliant: "Ok, so I know the fashionable thing for us journalists is to overreact to what we see..."
That's the kick-off, by Mike Adamson in Guardian's World Cup blog. He carries on well into the opening minutes: "...and thus assume Argentina are certain to win the World Cup - having probably overcome the mighty Spain in the final - and that England are going to crash out in ignominy sooner rather than later after a good walloping by a team "we should be beating". But can we try and keep a bit of perspective here please - we're only 10 days into the tournament for crying out loud."
Guess we journalists need to take a leaf or three from that; cut the crap and hit the deck, as they say in cricket lingo.
By the way here's the whole, and nothing but the whole, link:
http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/worldcup06/2006/06/19/in_defence_of_england.html
The blog's quite good, just by the way.
That's the kick-off, by Mike Adamson in Guardian's World Cup blog. He carries on well into the opening minutes: "...and thus assume Argentina are certain to win the World Cup - having probably overcome the mighty Spain in the final - and that England are going to crash out in ignominy sooner rather than later after a good walloping by a team "we should be beating". But can we try and keep a bit of perspective here please - we're only 10 days into the tournament for crying out loud."
Guess we journalists need to take a leaf or three from that; cut the crap and hit the deck, as they say in cricket lingo.
By the way here's the whole, and nothing but the whole, link:
http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/worldcup06/2006/06/19/in_defence_of_england.html
The blog's quite good, just by the way.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
saturday, june 3 oopsie desi(s)
n Rajnath Singh (aye, aye, the BJP prez) says: "the UPA govt has to try to get a UN resolution declaring Pakistan as terrorist state passed."
Really? And what on earth will be the earth-shattering result? Will they bomb Islamabad? If the UN had the brains and balls, it would have done away with the likes of Rajnath Singh a long, long time ago.
n Gopinath Munde (who he? a once-upon-a-time Maharashtra deputy CM) says Rahul Mahajan was poisoned.
Really? ha ha ha
n The Film and Television Producers Guild of India (whazzat? dunno, ask PTI, learnt it from them) wants states like Andhra and Mizoram to review ban on The Da Vinci Code.
Really? Perhaps up next they will ask BJP to review its stand on Babri Masjid, and CPM to rethink Marxism. How about petitioning the film and television producers to stop making inane films and soaps for a change?
n During a surprise visit to New Delhi and Old Delhi railway stations, mantri-ji Lalu was angry. Very angry. Why? he did not apparently find the bed rolls and tracks clean, and the seating arrangements were improper.
Really? Shows just why all mantri-jis are so off-track.
Really? And what on earth will be the earth-shattering result? Will they bomb Islamabad? If the UN had the brains and balls, it would have done away with the likes of Rajnath Singh a long, long time ago.
n Gopinath Munde (who he? a once-upon-a-time Maharashtra deputy CM) says Rahul Mahajan was poisoned.
Really? ha ha ha
n The Film and Television Producers Guild of India (whazzat? dunno, ask PTI, learnt it from them) wants states like Andhra and Mizoram to review ban on The Da Vinci Code.
Really? Perhaps up next they will ask BJP to review its stand on Babri Masjid, and CPM to rethink Marxism. How about petitioning the film and television producers to stop making inane films and soaps for a change?
n During a surprise visit to New Delhi and Old Delhi railway stations, mantri-ji Lalu was angry. Very angry. Why? he did not apparently find the bed rolls and tracks clean, and the seating arrangements were improper.
Really? Shows just why all mantri-jis are so off-track.
Friday, May 26, 2006
Ha ha hee hee hoo hoo: Small/ medium newspapers want govt ‘protection’ now
For years — nope, make it decades — they slammed the powers that be for its supposedly dreaded “protection” policy for Indian inductry and manufacturers. Circa 2006, it’s newspapers, and news media, who want government protection. That surely is funny. Funnier even than BJP questioning the Punjab government’s inane decision to ban the Da Vinci Code.
Something called the Indian Federation of Small and Medium Newspapers (out here, they must even have an Association of People Who Fail to Crack the Across Section of Daily Crossword in Newspapers) has asked the government for “protection” and a comprehensive revision of the press and registration of books act. That’s a PTI report by the way.
“The media has evolved to a great extent in the past few years and it was becoming increasingly difficult for small and medium newspapers to exist in the changed scenario. So many of them have closed down owing to a financial crunch,” the federation’s president Pushpa Pandey said, if PTI is to be believed. The government, she says, “must provide necessary protection for their survival.”
Well and good. Only, don’t Indian manufacuters still require such “protection” from the big fish, like the “medium and small newspapers” need from the biggies like Times, HT, ABP, Manorama, Hindu and other groups?
Or did someone say each according to his ability, and each according to his strength of voice?
Something called the Indian Federation of Small and Medium Newspapers (out here, they must even have an Association of People Who Fail to Crack the Across Section of Daily Crossword in Newspapers) has asked the government for “protection” and a comprehensive revision of the press and registration of books act. That’s a PTI report by the way.
“The media has evolved to a great extent in the past few years and it was becoming increasingly difficult for small and medium newspapers to exist in the changed scenario. So many of them have closed down owing to a financial crunch,” the federation’s president Pushpa Pandey said, if PTI is to be believed. The government, she says, “must provide necessary protection for their survival.”
Well and good. Only, don’t Indian manufacuters still require such “protection” from the big fish, like the “medium and small newspapers” need from the biggies like Times, HT, ABP, Manorama, Hindu and other groups?
Or did someone say each according to his ability, and each according to his strength of voice?
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
west indian midgests to pathan: you're a bowler, mon
the good news: those midgets, aka west indian bowlers (sorry, can't resists the temptation — how the mighty has fallen! and damn the cliche) have sorted out the likes of pathan...getting closer to dhoni, it seems. batting, after all, is not just about (pinch)hitting. It's perhaps more. Only, it takes a Dadar Union level bowling attack to tell us that.
the bad news: the likes of pathan (and dhoni?) will soon come back, smash around and do more telly ads here.
PS: Ajay Jadeja in this week's 'Cricket Controversies' on NDTV: "What other career option gives you the opportunity to earn Rs 12-15 crore by working 105 days a year?" Sport on, Jaddu.
PS 2: Navjot Sidhu defends 'overworked' cricketers in the same programme. Has the good Member of Parliament ever heard of the words overpaid-and-underworked? Surely rings a bell, "Sherry-sir" (as the woman hosting the show kept calling him), spening more days at TV studios doing shows than hours visiting your constituency, perhaps?
the bad news: the likes of pathan (and dhoni?) will soon come back, smash around and do more telly ads here.
PS: Ajay Jadeja in this week's 'Cricket Controversies' on NDTV: "What other career option gives you the opportunity to earn Rs 12-15 crore by working 105 days a year?" Sport on, Jaddu.
PS 2: Navjot Sidhu defends 'overworked' cricketers in the same programme. Has the good Member of Parliament ever heard of the words overpaid-and-underworked? Surely rings a bell, "Sherry-sir" (as the woman hosting the show kept calling him), spening more days at TV studios doing shows than hours visiting your constituency, perhaps?
everyone loves a goodlooking strike, so bring on the docs
Here’s the funny bit: Forever wary of strikes, agitations, stirs, demonstrations, protests, marches, rallies, the Indian English language media has suddenly discovered a new love for the words, till just the other day discarded and tossed straight out the window — bang into that bin marked “Commie mantra/jargon/trash”.
Check any English newspaper worth its weight in the raddiwala’s scale, and the words leap straight out of the anti-reservation ruckus news/views/comments sections as if aiming straight for your red towel. The headline writers are just as much in love with the Commie words as their headline hunters seem to be. (I count the TV channels out of any half-serious discussion on any pseudo-serious topic, for they do not possess even pseudo gravity. And you don’t need a Newtonian law of gravity to figure that out) .
This, mind you, is the same media that opposed the strike by SBI workers and anti-privatisation airport employees, to name just two recent ones.
So, why this sudden fascination? Yes, the SBI agitation made life hell for all the pensioners/students/businessmen/whatever — as the oh-so-sobby ‘human interest’ reports and stories told us day in and night out. And yes, the airport workers’ strike made life a stinking nightmare for everyone and her aunt taking the next flight out.
Without getting into polemics, let’s agree the agitators/protestors were wrong, just to settle for a safe adjective. You cannot, let’s agree, hold people to ransom like THAT, especially when people need money/monetary dealings 24x7 these days. You cannot, let’s agree again, make people take the shit (literally) at airports by letting the stink and rot make faces at you.
But then, can you make people hang on with their illnesses, diseases, emergencies and death till you demands are met? I don’t know. Seriously, I don’t. I don’t have an opinion on whether quotas should go up, down, east or west — for any which way it goes, we will get doctors, engineers and technical people from institutes all over the country where your parents’ wallet is enough to see you through and across.
I don’t know whether people subjugated for centuries ought to get a prop to help them lift their head and look us, the ‘others’ in ‘general category’ (as forms in schools, colleges and even govt put it), in the eyes.
I don’t know where people who say reservation should start at elementary school-level are when the ‘public schools’ their sons/daughters/nephews/nieces/brothers/sisters and uncle’s colleague’s pet’s owner’s daughter studies, refuse reserve seats in their hallowed institutions.
I also don’t know if owners/managers/editors/reporters/sub-editors in the media organisations fancy this particular strike because the protagonists look/talk/act and shit good-smelling crap like us — as against the Commies in any other strike.
All I know is something, somewhere, is wrong, just to settle for a safe adjective. And making people wait outside hospitals will never right that wrong. It will only maim or kill them. And that’s certainly not funny.
Check any English newspaper worth its weight in the raddiwala’s scale, and the words leap straight out of the anti-reservation ruckus news/views/comments sections as if aiming straight for your red towel. The headline writers are just as much in love with the Commie words as their headline hunters seem to be. (I count the TV channels out of any half-serious discussion on any pseudo-serious topic, for they do not possess even pseudo gravity. And you don’t need a Newtonian law of gravity to figure that out) .
This, mind you, is the same media that opposed the strike by SBI workers and anti-privatisation airport employees, to name just two recent ones.
So, why this sudden fascination? Yes, the SBI agitation made life hell for all the pensioners/students/businessmen/whatever — as the oh-so-sobby ‘human interest’ reports and stories told us day in and night out. And yes, the airport workers’ strike made life a stinking nightmare for everyone and her aunt taking the next flight out.
Without getting into polemics, let’s agree the agitators/protestors were wrong, just to settle for a safe adjective. You cannot, let’s agree, hold people to ransom like THAT, especially when people need money/monetary dealings 24x7 these days. You cannot, let’s agree again, make people take the shit (literally) at airports by letting the stink and rot make faces at you.
But then, can you make people hang on with their illnesses, diseases, emergencies and death till you demands are met? I don’t know. Seriously, I don’t. I don’t have an opinion on whether quotas should go up, down, east or west — for any which way it goes, we will get doctors, engineers and technical people from institutes all over the country where your parents’ wallet is enough to see you through and across.
I don’t know whether people subjugated for centuries ought to get a prop to help them lift their head and look us, the ‘others’ in ‘general category’ (as forms in schools, colleges and even govt put it), in the eyes.
I don’t know where people who say reservation should start at elementary school-level are when the ‘public schools’ their sons/daughters/nephews/nieces/brothers/sisters and uncle’s colleague’s pet’s owner’s daughter studies, refuse reserve seats in their hallowed institutions.
I also don’t know if owners/managers/editors/reporters/sub-editors in the media organisations fancy this particular strike because the protagonists look/talk/act and shit good-smelling crap like us — as against the Commies in any other strike.
All I know is something, somewhere, is wrong, just to settle for a safe adjective. And making people wait outside hospitals will never right that wrong. It will only maim or kill them. And that’s certainly not funny.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
What’s (ch)eating Kaavya Viswanathan?
Can you steal by mistake? Or, to sound a touch more prosaic, can you ‘plagiarise unintentionally’?
Good question, but no answer. None knows. None cares to know.
But then, don’t journalists write headlines/copy openers that sound ugh-so-familiarly-clichéd? And don’t they do it every freaking day of their life?
Yes, there are a zillion ways to write a sentence, but why should I try?
None asked the guy who spotted the cheating to read it so carefully, or did someone?
Am I following some other hand tapping some other keyboard unintentionally?
Who knows.. who cares to know..
Read if you want, don't if you want.
Just let the 'cheat' be.
Good question, but no answer. None knows. None cares to know.
But then, don’t journalists write headlines/copy openers that sound ugh-so-familiarly-clichéd? And don’t they do it every freaking day of their life?
Yes, there are a zillion ways to write a sentence, but why should I try?
None asked the guy who spotted the cheating to read it so carefully, or did someone?
Am I following some other hand tapping some other keyboard unintentionally?
Who knows.. who cares to know..
Read if you want, don't if you want.
Just let the 'cheat' be.
Monday, April 17, 2006
BBC says gays "fear for life" in Iraq; me says show me one who doesn't
Even that grand aunt, BBC, sometimes leaves you in a spot: to laugh or not to laugh, with the rest of the office pounding away madly at their keyboards. Here's the source of amusement: "Gays in Iraq fear for their lives", says the headline... http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/4915172.stm
For a change, I did not immediately fall off the chair (I have that weird habit, not fibbing; and being overweight does not help matters one bit) but wondered what made them commission the story in the first place and, second, what level of inebriation led the sub-editor to write that headline when everyone, barring perhaps Saddam (ironically, the most secured man in the country right now), "fear for their lives" in Iraq. Thanks, of course, to Georgie boy's Texan machismo.
Here, BBC, take this: Get me a man/woman/child/American trooper in Iraq who doesn't fear for her/his life and I'll write Condi Rice a 100-rupees cheque for her next visit to Iraq.
And here's the last line from the piece for that joker in DC: "Saddam was a tyrant, but at least we had more freedom then," said Hussein. "Nowadays, gay men are just killed for no reason."
For a change, I did not immediately fall off the chair (I have that weird habit, not fibbing; and being overweight does not help matters one bit) but wondered what made them commission the story in the first place and, second, what level of inebriation led the sub-editor to write that headline when everyone, barring perhaps Saddam (ironically, the most secured man in the country right now), "fear for their lives" in Iraq. Thanks, of course, to Georgie boy's Texan machismo.
Here, BBC, take this: Get me a man/woman/child/American trooper in Iraq who doesn't fear for her/his life and I'll write Condi Rice a 100-rupees cheque for her next visit to Iraq.
And here's the last line from the piece for that joker in DC: "Saddam was a tyrant, but at least we had more freedom then," said Hussein. "Nowadays, gay men are just killed for no reason."
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Hungry kya? Come fast, join me
MK Gandhi’s tried and tested weapon is fast turning into the favoured (flavoured?) weapon of the day for the damned, con-damed and dam-ning ’uns. But has anyone in the pro-dam lobby figured out the logic, if not the reason, behind Modi’s magic figure of 51 hours? It’s a half-decent figure for a batsman, we all know, but why just 51 hours after Medha Patkar came Soz near yet oh-so-far from scoring a point with her 180-plus hours?
But, heard the latest about other good souls planning to go hungry?
Mamata Banerjee: demands all Communists in Bengal be ordered to fast unto death by Election Commission.
All Indian Communists: demands Common Minimum Programme be made a proper noun, and then an active verb, by the Manmohan government.
LK Advani: wants ordinance to make rath yatra mandatory for all BJP leaders before every election.
Sourav Ganguly: wants Supreme Court to ban Dravid, Veeru, Dhoni, Kaif, Yuvi, Raina, Pathan, Uthappa, Powar, Bhajji, Agarkar and all other possible contenders for the opening slot under POTA. Additional demand: Chappell should be made the Aussie coach.
Salman Khan: wants lifelong supply of free vests (strictly jaali-wala baniyaan) for pro-poaching, pro-hit-n-run and pro-Ash-trashing activists. (Breaking news: Threatens to call the bhais if asked to eat poached omelettes ever in his life.)
Chidambaram: wants foreign investment in all sectors, including sensex and post-marital sex.
Amar Singh: wants all/anything/nothing/whichever applicable of the above. (Last heard, sensing hands from 10-Janpath in all the fasting demands, ends his fast-unto-wealth.)
But, heard the latest about other good souls planning to go hungry?
Mamata Banerjee: demands all Communists in Bengal be ordered to fast unto death by Election Commission.
All Indian Communists: demands Common Minimum Programme be made a proper noun, and then an active verb, by the Manmohan government.
LK Advani: wants ordinance to make rath yatra mandatory for all BJP leaders before every election.
Sourav Ganguly: wants Supreme Court to ban Dravid, Veeru, Dhoni, Kaif, Yuvi, Raina, Pathan, Uthappa, Powar, Bhajji, Agarkar and all other possible contenders for the opening slot under POTA. Additional demand: Chappell should be made the Aussie coach.
Salman Khan: wants lifelong supply of free vests (strictly jaali-wala baniyaan) for pro-poaching, pro-hit-n-run and pro-Ash-trashing activists. (Breaking news: Threatens to call the bhais if asked to eat poached omelettes ever in his life.)
Chidambaram: wants foreign investment in all sectors, including sensex and post-marital sex.
Amar Singh: wants all/anything/nothing/whichever applicable of the above. (Last heard, sensing hands from 10-Janpath in all the fasting demands, ends his fast-unto-wealth.)
Friday, April 14, 2006
the blasted question: are you ready to be carpet-bombed by sharp-suited TV anchors?
What: Twin bomb blasts at Jama Masjid in Delhi.
Whaaat? (Sound of chairs overturning as TV journalists wake up and trip over each other. Before thinking how, why and wherefores put on their makeup, they rush to the balcony. What?).
n Now, Rakesh (or whatever the poor reporter’s good name is for good or bad), you are at the spot, tell us more.
n Aah, ahem, ouch (Rakesh struggles with the microphone in the balcony), umm, well… Nishi (or whatever the godforsaken anchor’s godforsaken name is), as you can see it’s panic out here (truth be told, you can’t see a thing, with Rakesh’s frown, Nishi’s furrowed brows and the BREAKING NEWS bar taking up the whole screen. Hang on, the TV crew is still on its way to Jama Masjid). People do not seem to know if there’s any more bomb and are scared to figure out whether to turn left, right or go dead straight (da da da, and some more panic-spreading on live TV, as you get graphic details of a frantically overworking imagination of the reporter).
n (Nishi’s frowning mug cuts in) So we do know there have been two blasts, as Rakesh just told us (courtesy PTI, and some poor stringer who covers Jama Masjid). And there’s sheer panic out there. What more can you tell us, Rakesh?
n Nishi, we are trying to get in touch with the police, and they are still not sure if it’s the handiwork of Jaish, Aish, Lashkar, tusker, Hizbul or bloodyfool, . The police have rushed extra forces to the spot, and we are told the chief minister is also on way (as is the TV crew)
n Rakesh, Rakesh… Seems like we have lost our link with Rakesh (liar, liar; the reporter’s in the car, on way to Jama Masjid). Hum aapko ek baar phir se bataa dein, there have been two bomb blasts at Delhi’s historic Jama Masjid, injuring at least three. As our correspondent Rakesh has been telling us from the spot, the first blast took place at around 5 pm when devotees were preparing for asar, or evening prayer, before a second blast rocked the place within 15 minutes (that, by the way is a straight lift from a PTI report straight after the blasts)
n (Rakesh, finally in the “Walled City”, butts in) Nishi, as we can see, it’s sheer panic out here (camera pans). Let me ask an eyewitness (thrusts the mike on a dazed bespectacled man as others try a sneak peek at the cam from behind, through and across his shoulder): how does it feel after the first blast of the year at Jama Masjid...
(NOTE: This was written as the writer awaited news copies from less ‘explosive’ places, and since the copies have arrived, goodbye to telly tamasha. As MTV says, ENJOY)
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
New breaking news: PM is 'mildly astonished' at actor Rajkumar's death
“Prime Minister Manmohan Singh expressed shock and grief over the passing away of Kannada thespian Rajkumar.”
That comes courtesy PTI, the official PM-spotter. The shocking bit here is the word shock.
What does it mean? “A feeling of mild astonishment or shock caused by something unexpected,” says Oxford. Re-read and note the word MILD.
Just to turn it around, will you be ‘mildly astonished’ at the PM’s death? Reactions will, of course, differ (some may even be overjoyed; it’s a democracy after all), but I would reserve my shocks for milder things like: “I am shocked the way our PM bows down to Bush” (on second thoughts that’s hardly surprising), or “the Left parties expressed shock (which they always do, never mind the issue) at Chidambaram’s open invitation to the private sector at the expense of poor us” (which, again, our FM always does, never mind the occasion).But shock at someone’s death?
Sorry guys, not done. Not by me at least.
That comes courtesy PTI, the official PM-spotter. The shocking bit here is the word shock.
What does it mean? “A feeling of mild astonishment or shock caused by something unexpected,” says Oxford. Re-read and note the word MILD.
Just to turn it around, will you be ‘mildly astonished’ at the PM’s death? Reactions will, of course, differ (some may even be overjoyed; it’s a democracy after all), but I would reserve my shocks for milder things like: “I am shocked the way our PM bows down to Bush” (on second thoughts that’s hardly surprising), or “the Left parties expressed shock (which they always do, never mind the issue) at Chidambaram’s open invitation to the private sector at the expense of poor us” (which, again, our FM always does, never mind the occasion).But shock at someone’s death?
Sorry guys, not done. Not by me at least.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Q: how bad are our papers? A: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Reading forwarded mails is quite illuminating (that’s because I read barely one in 20, the rest go straight to the trash box — opened, half-opened, unopened, but hardly ever read). And it sure was with this one (check http://www.dawn.com/weekly/ayaz/20051202.htm) gotten from a friend (a fellow journalist, of course). Ayaz Amir, the Dawn columnist, is always readable. Acerbic, pithy, and stripping his ‘victims’ naked. Completely naked; no wardrobe malfunction here.
“It takes a good two hours in the morning going through a stack of Pakistani newspapers. It takes about half an hour to go through the leading English dailies that you get in Delhi.” It starts off. And trust me, he has you snapped around his finger (the middle one? the poor brain wailed, considering its owner’s living on the payrolls of one of those “English dailies” that Amir is blasting off with full rigor).
And he has you till the last para: “The cautionary tale is for us as we move forward on the road to democracy (a journey which would be made easier infinitely if Pakistan’s ruling general, fourth in a line of patriarchs the country could have done without, is persuaded to shed his fears and his uniform). If we can get democracy without lowering the standard of national discourse or without the pursuit of trivia, that would be a goal worth striving for.”
Heh, eh?
So guess what happens next? Worst journalist opens another mailbox, comes across a suspicious-looking mail with a blank Subject line, from another friend (another frustratingly cynical and cynically frustrated journalist-mate, of course). This one had sent a couple of Guardian front-pages, and dared me to find a single newspaper in India that dares to make such neat, uncomplicated, reader-friendly (and cool, I add) pages that does not ask for hand-eye-brain coordination required only of Tendulkar in the slog overs. I did scratch my head, honestly I did, for about seven minutes, before opening a new file on MS Word (to make all this noise).
Here's one (hit the website — they store the front pages for the last 10 days), and do ask yourself the last time you breathed easy sitting on the pot in the morning. Check how they use the front page as just that: the most important page with 2/3 most important stories of the day (our papers seem to face identity crisis if it’s anything less than five), and the great use of pictures. Most of us would either fall off the chair or faint, or both, if asked to magnify pictures so much as to zoom in on the creases on the forehead; instead, we would go for the whole picture with extra ‘scene scenery’ for added value. But then, that's us. Heh, eh?
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Slit in Nigar's skirt shows the butt of a moral story
First was the khaki police, then came the baaki police.
First was the moral brigade, then came the oral brigade
First they said watching the nangus kills your poor soul, now they say banning ’em leaves that soul with a hole.
First they took wardrobe malfunction with a frown, now they say it’s an improper noun.
Only, the poor me is left wondering if slamming the slammer
by showing tits and the butts with/without the jammer
is manufacturing news and clamour in this age of all-pervasive glamour.
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