Pink Tax and the Consumer Rights of Women

What is Pink Tax?

Pink tax refers to gender based price discrimination where women pay more than men for the same products and services. In 2015 the New York City Department of Consumer Affairs released a study comparing the prices of over 800 products which found that products for women cost 7% more than the same products for men.

While in India we do not have any such study, one can easily compare the prices of equivalent goods and services and see the disparity. In 2018, the Government of India was to levy 12% GST on menstrual sanitary products, which was slashed only after a tireless campaign.

Pink Tax and Consumer Protection Act, 2019

While we lament the apparent unfairness, we forget that women are “consumers” under the Consumer Protection Act, 2019 (“Act”), and all consumers have certain rights.

Pink Tax – an Unfair Trade Practice

Section 2(47) of the Act defines “unfair trade practices” to include any statement which makes a false or misleading representation concerning the need for, or the usefulness of, any goods or services, materially misleads the public concerning the price at which a product or like products or goods or services, have been or are, ordinarily sold or provided.

It is plain that marketing products for women as something better, or different, or of more usefulness falls within the ambit of “unfair trade practices”.

Pink Tax and Misleading Advertisements

Section 2(28) of the Act defines “misleading advertisements” to include any advertisement, which gives false description of a product or service, gives false guarantee misleading the consumers, conveys express representation constituting unfair trade practice and deliberately not revealing essential information about the product.

Again, marketing products or services meant for women as worthy of a higher price amounts to misleading the consumer.

Recourse for the Aggrieved

Central Consumer Protection Authority (“CCPA”) may initiate an inquiry into violations of consumer rights or unfair trade practices either suo motu or on receipt of a complaint or as directed by the Central Government. CCPA may conduct a preliminary inquiry, followed by an investigation by the Director General or by the District Collector, if required. It has also been empowered to file complaints under the Act.

A consumer may also file a complaint with either the District, State, or National Commission as per the pecuniary jurisdiction.

Outcomes

If the CCPA, or the relevant Commission finds violations of consumer rights it may pass orders to recall goods or services; reimburse prices; and discontinue unfair practices.

In cases of false or misleading advertisements it may issue directions to discontinue such advertisement or to modify it to neutralise its effects. It may levy a punishment of imprisonment for a term which may extend to two years and a fine which may extend to ten lakh rupees; and for every subsequent offence, there is a punishment of imprisonment for a term which may extend to five years and a fine which may extend to fifty lakh rupees.

 

 

Hello! Me!

Today I read a blog post by me, from 2013. I felt my own thoughts, feelings, and desires. Felt like meeting an old close friend. People have many identities, many personalities, but I was never one such. Up until 2014 I was a monolith. I believe, and people who know me might agree, I never changed since kindergarten, not my face, not my mannerisms, not the way I felt. I was till 2014 a student, wanting to learn various subjects, read some, and also become a writer. That has been my identity all these years. So discovering that I have facets and layers is something very new. In 2014 I fell in love, and later got married. That year, and year after that was a blur, a roller-coaster of emotions. I was a totally different person. Love sure is crazy and also makes one crazy (in a good way!) By late 2015 I had a daughter, catching up with motherhood was quite something, especially for someone who never evolved since kindergarten! Suddenly, I had to make up for so much growth. And while I was at it, I discovered I was to have another baby soon. So by December 2016 I had two little girls. (One of my secret fantasies was to have twin girls. This was really close to that.) In the interim I also managed to have my first book published and had an offer to work on another one. With two little girls and two books I just went from one day to the other and never had the time to sit idle and reflect. Now, that my girls are both at preschool, I have some time to reflect and ponder. And once again after so many years, I sit idle, ponder, reflect, and write something from my heart. Reading the last blog by me, it seems as though time had stopped somewhere in 2013. I can’t believe I am in 2020. I still feel the same. Only when I think about these years it feels like I was on a adventure of some sorts and now I am back to me. So, hello! Me!

Redeveloping the sky

The sudden swell in redevelopment scares me. I sit at my window and gaze outside and I can see greenery and a beautiful, these days slightly overcast, sky. And yes both my window and I are located in Mumbai. I happen to be amongst the few lucky ones to have a real big garden view and not those miniature ones in building compounds. But apart from the greenery what I really enjoy is staring into the sky. The sky with its changing colours and various dimensions. It is pitch black around 4 am occasionally orangish black and it continues to remain so until suddenly sometime around 6 am its oozing bright sunshine. I always find this transition from dark to light sudden. I may keep peering into the sky and yet it catches me unawares. I don’t have a view of the sunrise, may be that’s why I don’t feel the transition. As the day progresses it keeps changing hue. Every time I look out I love to gaze at the marvelous expanse and as night pours in darkness floods my view. I hate to switch on the light. It seems shallow before the beauteous sunlight and its varied shades that I have been enjoying through the day. But nature has its way. And darkness has to come and go. However, it is not this hindrance that worries me. There is a building that is being redeveloped diagonally opposite mine. Along with the sky I have also been seeing its progress as floor after floor gets added on. And now that it has reached a substantial height it has begun to come in the way of my clear sky view. It continues to grow taller. The coconut tree just outside my window is now panned by this grey structure and not the grey rainy sky. I realize when it is completed I would have lost a substantial chunk of sky view. Then I console myself to change my angle thus effectively throwing the building out of my line of vision. I can see the sky again without any hindrance blocking my view. And it’s beautiful as ever. Towards evening I can clearly see its changing colour. It is orange at times and maroon at others and if I don’t switch on the light the house is partially dark yet it is filled with a dim reddish light. It’s a completely different hue. I love basking in it. And again the switch from this light to dark seems sudden. All gone, the tubelights must come on. Against a dark twinkling expanse of the sky the ghostly silhouette of the under construction building stands tall. Reasserting itself and taunting that all of the remaining buildings are also going to be redeveloped into way taller structures. Contracts are already being drawn up. Some days more and it will have tall companions. And when I look out next I will get to see only snatches of the sky from between the space distancing these tall buildings. My sky is going I will be left with only the greenery of the garden panned by tall buildings.

The death of the telegram, who's next? Google search – From indispensible to dispensable?

I have been reading nostalgic articles by people much older about the trajectory of the telegram – how it was so revolutionary and how immensely if affected and changed their lives and how now something that was so indispensible has been rendered redundant. It got me thinking what piece of technology impacted me immensely and changed the way I function and instantly Google search pops to mind. When I was in lower classes in school there was nothing like Google search. And that has me thinking, so how did I study? I wasn’t one who frequented the library, rarely so. There were many books on the shelves at home but I preferred they remain there neatly stacked. I realize I mainly looked to my text books, a Self-study series and a few other educational books that my mother insisted were essentially a part of my course (though they weren’t). In those far away days I remember the computer as a tool to either play games or unleash my artistry with Paint. Either I was too lazy to discover its potentials or probably most kids my age had restricted their knowledge to the same extent. I hope the later is true. As I entered higher standards the computer evolved into a tool to assist in making projects. The scourge for relevant pictures was immensely curtailed by Google search. Yet in those days I’d print the pictures and stick them onto chart papers, unlike my nieces who conveniently paste everything onto PPT slides, transfer the file onto a pen drive and leave for school without any hassle. I remember my projects to be at the other end of the no hassle spectrum. I would employ water colours, felt pens, occasionally glitter. My master piece would occupy the central position in the house, sprawling across the floor, and would block convenient passageway. It would leave visible marks on the floor, walls and of course me and my clothes. It was never hassle free neither was the process neat. But I must say I am proud of each and every one of those charts. To me they were all my own Mona Lisas and definitely more cheery and vibrant. I am not certain whether the feeling of creation with a similar intensity can be generated by a PPT. But it is definitely much cleaner to carry a pen drive, especially during the rains, than my masterpieces. Coming back to my developing relationship with Google search. As I moved onto college the strain of excessive and elaborate chart papers was off my back. There was no Work Experience or EVS. So now if I used Google search it was with no specific purpose. However, even though chart papers were off my back I realized a new burden was to be added called – reference. Apparently, while in college there isn’t anything like one or two authoritative books of medium size in which a complacent person may repose her trust. One has to go to the library and read through tomes for any decent degree of study. And so I tentatively entered the library. There were walls of books on all sides of me. I could choose from where I wished to study. I gathered my own material. Strangely, I liked the power I wielded over the contents of my study material. Sometime around then I discovered what happens if I search for material on Google. A plethora of information was just a click away and within the confines of my house. The significance of this statement may seem ridiculous to those younger to me who have grown up when ‘Google’ was not just a proper noun but also a verb. However, I have experienced its evolution into a verb and yet it evolved into a verb early on in my life so even though theoretically I know I have lived in a Google – less world I can’t imagine getting through this day without Google. I realize people must have felt the same way about telegrams some day. And yet life seems much easier without them (and with Gmail). This makes me dwell upon the corollary that one day Google search will be rendered redundant. Will ‘to google’ then appear in the dictionary as archaic. old use. in ancient days enabled people to locate information based on keywords from a virtual information cloud. And if the telegram is replaced by instant emails what would replace Google search? Would I have a devise so connected to me that it detects my very thoughts and instantly generates only relevant results and collates them in a format uniquely suitable for my requirements? Realistically, I look forward to days of e-libraries. With the advent of availability of Google search on phones one has immense information and e-books not only a click away but the click itself is merely a pocket away. And yet I feel the necessity of visiting a good library from time to time. And this is not owing to my loyalty to or nostalgia for tangible objects. Google search makes available a wide variety of information, connects me to articles and research papers, books and scholarly treatises, magazines and novels and so on and so forth. I have access to some of these for free and some need to be purchased. Whereas some scholarly treatises that have been traced are yet in the libraries as hard backs. Once all this knowledge is converted to e-format and made available by e-libraries for a reasonable fee, probably the best e-library that can guarantee complete and unrestricted access to all the search results that encompasses everything from trivia to scholarly treatises might render both Google search and libraries redundant. A beginning in this direction, that I am aware of, is British Council’s ebrary. Though it has a very limited collection as yet. The mind boggles at the contemplation of the convenience that shall be derived from the device that necessitates that we bid farewell to Google search.

Lucifer’s Contract

A tale of cunning and conceit. Of one Doctor Faustus whose waxen wings did mount above his reach. A tale above all of trickery. Of crafty equivocation of contract laws that caused fair Lucifer to weep.

Faustus hath entered into a deed with Lucifer granting unto him Faustus’s soul at the expiry of four and twenty years certain conditions being met. Poor Lucifer unaware was he of the intricacies of contract laws! Not so easy it is to contract and get what you want for ignorance of law is no excuse.

God the owner of innumerable souls bestows them upon humans to be utilized during their lifetime and to be retuned upon expiry of the said lifetime. In consequence making Faustus a mere trustee of the movable property soul. And as is well known, though not by Lucifer, that a contract made by trustee in excess of his powers cannot be specifically enforced, so could poor Lucifer not obtain specific enforcement of his deed with Faustus.

Moreover, the soul promised by Faustus to Lucifer was one of the innumerable souls owned by God. This soul wasn’t specific movable property. For God makes all souls equal. It is the use to which each soul is put that characterizes one human from the other. Nevertheless souls remain indistinguishable. A soul may easily be replaced with any other other soul all being one and the same. An again as is well known, though not by Lucifer, that a contract for movable property cannot be specifically enforced unless the property were specific movable property of irreplaceable nature, so could poor Lucifer not obtain specific enforcement of his deed with Faustus.

On expiry of four and twenty years as Faustus lay upon this death bed God’s claim to movable property soul was upheld. And thus was the treacherous of all, most astute conniving and devious Lucifer tricked by simple contract laws!

What happened back then?

The youth rebellion is a worldwide phenomenon that has not been seen before in history… Millions of young people all over the world are fed up with shallow unworthy authority running on a platform of bullshit.
–William Burroughs, “The Coming of the Purple Better One,” Esquire, November 1968.

Once upon a time in a village named Naxalbari there lived a peasant. He was attacked by landlords and they were counter attacked by those who were later named Naxalites. So began the saga of Naxalism.

Well not exactly so. Naxalism was a manifestation of a global desire to rebel. Back then world over the educated privileged youth, behaved in a very peculiar fashion. Instead of bunking lectures and watching movies or plays or whatever was in vogue then, as is the duty of all good students, they were hanging around debating politics, Mao Zedong, revolution, organizing protest rallies, hurling bottles and brick-bats!

The 60s were a turbulent decade and a number of events in conjunction led to such behavior. The post-war era had heralded peace with eagerness. People had suffered significantly for decades. Loved ones had been lost and generations were wiped out. Contrary to this misery were the theories of communism that promised an end to all suffering.

The general mood was infused with a strong desire for and belief in an egalitarian society. The decade was characterized by decolonization and independence movements. Alongside was the civil rights movement together with Martin Luther King Jr.'s speech “I Have a Dream”. And, King’s Student Nonviolent Coordination Committee or the SNCC under Stokely Carmichael’s slogan “Black Power!” was heading towards increasingly aggressive rebellion. As such campus-based movements were popular in the Paris student revolution and the Students for a Democratic Society in the US. What’s more, feminism was also at its zenith. People from all sectors craved equality. And communism put on offer the ‘all men are equal’ rule. Consequently, rebellion was everywhere. This made the World Revolution seem imminent with the famous slogan “the East is Red and the West is Ready”.

Anti-capitalist sentiment was further fuelled by the Cuban Revolution, Fidel Castro and the heroic guerilla fighter image of Che Guevara. Che viewed capitalism as a “contest among wolves” where “one can only win at the cost of others.” On similar lines, Arthur Miller declared in All My Sons “You don’t love a man here [in a capitalist society], you eat him!” The idea of replacing selfishness with selflessness was contemplated with admiration. Charged with such moralistic emotions, the youth of this era leaned towards communism as opposed to the reviled capitalism.

All the disparate protest movements of this decade were combined in opposition to the Vietnam War. Prevalent anti-war sentiment was manifest in the pop-culture of the times with Country Joe’s Fish Cheer, in the 1969 Woodstock Festival that went,

Yeah, come on all of you, big strong men,
Uncle Sam needs your help again.
He's got himself in a terrible jam
Way down yonder in Vietnam
So put down your books and pick up a gun,
We're gonna have a whole lotta fun.
And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam;
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.

This universal hatred for the Vietnam War created a general distaste for the U.S. which was extended to its ideology –capitalism.

Such was the global scenario. Closer home post independence, Indian youth was also gripped with analogous idealistic sentiments. Nehru himself had a socialist bent with the vision to establish a Welfare-State. But the 60s youth felt betrayed, sold-out and irrevocably ruined by their elders. This was a generation that had grown up in the wake of India’s independence, coupled with the worldwide move towards self-determination and equal rights. They dreamt of changing the world. However, the emergency, the still prevalent injustices and class distinctions and the Sino-India war shattered their hopes of a socialist haven.

Osborne’s Look Back in Anger heralded the “angry young man”. This angry frustration was manifest in Indian universities as well, wherein angst driven quixotic youngsters felt that independence had not attained its true aim. Democracy had not been achieved. In the words of Kobad Ghandy, “we think the society is in a semi-feudal, semi-colonial state and there is a need to democratise it.”

Against this backdrop, Vijay Tendulkar and Adil Jussawala produced revolutionary works heavily critical of prevalent societal systems. Kobad, Anuradha, Asghar Ali Engineer and Krishnaraj set up the Committee for the Protection of Democratic Rights. The Progressive Youth Movement was joined by many young people. At a time Navroz Modi was editor of its magazine Lalkaar. Study circles were regularly organized. Students vigorously debated communist theories.

And post the skirmish in the village called Naxalbari, these communist youngsters headed towards it and reacted under the leadership of communists such as Charu Majumdar. Their brand of communism came to be christened as Naxalism after the village whose inhabitants triggered it. So the worldwide wave of an idealistic youth desire for equality and resultant discontent hit India as Naxalism.

Politically correct !!!

It was decided by a politician that another’s visit should be greeted by ‘something black’. Why not re-make a ‘Simon go back’? He sure looks like a Simon. The other enthusiastic youth politician, like most youngsters, on a sudden impulse changed course and decided to experience what his wise colleague had attempted to describe in 140 words. So keeping this adventure in mind he landed penniless, on an impulse, at a railway station. By the sheer number of dramatic pauses that our railways take it was generally felt that a padh yatra would have served the cause better.

Certain movie makers paying regard to the dictionary of politicians thought better of doing away with certain names. So what if it was once a fact. Be it moon, or sun, or what you please. Henceforth they vowed it shall be so.

It had once been Marie Antoinette’s advice to those who could not buy bread to eat cake. And now it was adviced to those who could not buy sugar that it was not essential to living. So diabetic patients cheered for now on all were supposed to join them.

Also a new self- defence strategy was evolved. People were informed that a poor look keeps the bashers away. Fashion designers, it is heard are soon to release a new ‘poor avoid-rage’ look. The highest paid Bollywood actors are to be engaged as brand ambassadors.

What’s more, it was very thoughtfully concluded that a taxi driver must be able to converse with his passengers of local origin. The passenger might always be in need of some good counsel. And where better can one find it, if not with a taxi driver who has learnt it all by driving behind insightful trucks. Should not he share his knowledge, if so it is essential that he should be familiarised with the local tongue.

How to be HAPPY? Decoded the fictional way.

People are unhappy because they are not content with their station in life. In Animal Farm happiness is approached by abolishing the very cause of misery – stations in life, all are equal. In Brave New World, a different approach is adopted, people are conditioned to like the stations allotted to them, they aren’t given another choice. They are made content. They aren’t given a chance to desire for anything else. Like machines they perform pre-conditioned activities and don’t think at all.

But do they achieve happiness? The answer is a resonating NO in case of Animal Farm, whereas in Brave New World an illusion of happiness is created. “Everyone is happy now” is repeated so many times that everyone believes themselves to be happy. The savage tries to tell them that they are not free, they are slaves. He tries to arouse in them the desire to be free and human. But they seem incapable of feeling. Strong emotions are beyond them. They are sub-human babies. As Mustafa Mond puts it, even after being decanted they continue to live in their bottles.

They have paid a price to be without suffering. They have sacrificed fun. Are they happy? They can barely feel any emotion. How can they feel happiness then? They aren’t happy. They are just devoid of feelings, and so don’t experience pain, but neither do they experience happiness. The joy that comes from thinking, toiling and then achieving is lacking.

So, then both books establish that it isn’t possible to have a happy world devoid of suffering. In Animal Farm suffering re-surfaces, in Brave New World, the inmates are unaware of any feelings.

In both books people are assigned their jobs, they are supposed to like it and not question it. If they don’t have desire for something else, they won’t suffer. Doing only that what is required of them. Not thinking much beyond their set role. Easily taking soma pills (read TV, movies, music, or whatever that does not require any action, any thinking) that just lets the day pass without having to actually do anything, thus giving no occasion for getting tense. No tryst with real good or bad emotions. Just no strain on our brains. Allowing it to lie peacefully in cold storage. No real experiences, a frozen existence.

But it is desire that leads to joy also. One should desire and strive for it. But somewhere one has to draw the line and be content with one’s efforts. For never-ending desire will destroy. But this line has to be drawn by the individual. An individual has to have an individual dream, a desire distinct from that of others, unique. S/he has to individually in her/his own manner strive for it and at some point has to feel happy for having achieved whatever part of that dream. But it has to be an individual decision. Then alone will the individual feel real happiness.

Happiness is created from within and not without.

Should Rivers have married Rosamond?

St. John Rivers in Jane Eyre picks his vocation over love. He is considered cold cause he won’t accept his love Rosamond. But had he done so would they have been happy?

Consider the doctor Lydgate in Middlemarch (incidentally his love interest is also called Rosamond) that apart, he accepted his love. Despite being a person with an aim, he set it aside for “true love”. Was he happy? He considered himself a failure for life. Can anybody be more miserable than that?
He tells Rosy don’t ever say that you don’t like my research, that’s like saying you don’t love me. Isn’t that true? How can one love half the person? One can love a person and hate certain habits, even endevour to alter them. But how can one love a person but not his/her defining trait?

Both St. John and Lydgate are defined by their work. If they are to be happy in love, their love interest will have to love them as a whole. St. John can’t be asked to give up his missionary zeal to marry Rosamond. He understood that. It would make them both miserable. Just as it did in Middlemarch. When they lived life the way Lydgate desired Rosamond was miserable. So was he, he needed a partner to share his miseries but Rosamond couldn’t offer that support. And then he changed course to live her way and remained miserable forever.

I don’t find anything amiss in either Rosamond. They have a dream for their life, but the person they choose doesn’t fit in it. An attempt to mould a person into the person of your dream can not beget true happiness. People can alter habits, not defining characteristics. And if such tremendous change is required then it is as Lydgate put it you don’t love that person.

And so I consider Rivers decision to not marry Rosamond just.

He may come across as cold. But he is right in this. Neither could he give up missionary work nor could Rosamond sacrifice her comfortable life.
And if their minds are so opposed, this cannot be “true love”.

Are Indians Prone To Plagiarism?

Plagiarism has been rampant in India and the world over. Looking backward, when American pop art first appeared some critics accused the artists of plagiarism. The Greeks too at one point in time were inspired by Indian music.

Plagiarism is the appropriation and passing off as one’s own, the work/idea of others. It is not necessarily same as copyright infringement. It is generally considered reprehensible and even theft. On the other hand, in 1988 a number of radical artists organized a ‘Festival of Plagiarism’ consisting of a series of mixed media exhibitions and events at off-beat locations in London and San Francisco. This was a celebration of plagiarism.

There are different forms of plagiarism. It happens all the time in academia where certain characteristic phrases are used in a paper without indicating the source. This is called “The Mosaic”.

In India, especially in schools, plagiarism is in a way encouraged when students are asked to memorize verbatim. Even at the board level an answer of the Navneet guide fetches better marks, when in actuality it should be seen as academic dishonesty and a serious punishable academic offence.

Intentional plagiarism, as in copying an entire research paper, is often blamed on stress or laziness. The Indian examples are many. Vice chancellor of Kumaon University Dr. B. S. Rajput is the latest in a series of Indians found to have literally reproduced research from another scientists’ work in a published article on theoretical physics. Kaavya Vishwanathan admitted to accidental plagiarism. Her novel How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild And Got A Life is similar to Megan Mc Cafferty’s in style.

Plagiarism is widespread in Indian television too. The best selling author Barbara Taylor Bradford claimed that the TV serial Karishma: The Miracle Of Destiny was a copy of her novel, A Woman Of Substance. Even Karishma kaa Karishma is a copy of Small Wonder. Princess Diaries has been adapted into Hello Dolly.

Indian cinema has also not distanced itself from plagiarism. Crossover film maker Deepa Mehta’s movie Water bears similarities with Bengali novelist Sunil Gangopadhayay’s Sei Somoy. Mehta’s production was screened in Toronto International Film Festival this September, in spite of a suit being filed in the Delhi HC against its screening. Aap Mujuhe Ache Lagne Lage is inspired by Rapunzel.

Ad jingles are also inspired by old Hindi film songs or other sources. The Shalimar oil jingle is a word-to-word copy of the movie Shalimar’s title track.

Self plagiarism (the act of copying one’s published or submitted work without mentioning previous use), is constantly carried out by TV serial director Ekta Kapoor. Almost all her serials have similar scripts.



Plagiarism is also prevalent in the world of Indian music. Himesh Reshammiya too is prone to self plagiarism; all his songs have a similar tune. Also, R. D. Burman’s Chura Liya Hai from Yaadien is a good adaptation of Walter Scharf’s If It’s Tuesday This Must Be Belgium. Telgu song Monisha is a copy of Ricky Martin’s Maria.

It seems then that Indians are inclined towards plagiarism. Plagiarism is celebrated as being anti-capitalist in its stance because it seemingly avoids elitism, assuming that everything belongs to everybody! Despite this, the illegal copying of designs, bootleg recording and industrial espionage are in fact typical of much rapacious capitalist business practice. Some fashion designers have been ruined because their new collections have been stolen and copied by criminal rivals.

Whether you write an article or compose a song it belongs to you. Plagiarism therefore is theft. But law and society in India don’t treat plagiarists as thieves. Plagiarism seems so deep rooted here that it is hard to find originality. One always ends up asking, where could Anu Malik have lifted this from? But the fact could be that he really slogged hard to come up with that tune!

Sunset

The very day Chandrayaan was launched Mumbai was gripped with fear. It was a turmoil of emotions, a lot of confusion- whether to feel happy for our progress or to feel sad for our degeneration. In fact, whether to call our selves progressive or regressive? My milk man was scared; he stood at my door listening to the news in fear. He didn’t know anything about this path breaking progress; he was worried about those who were literally breaking the paths of Mumbai. We have made a move towards the moon, but Indians still don’t have the freedom to move within their country.

Futile News

Great entertainments have mostly been tragedies. Tragedy has the capacity to entertain. Aristotle said that tragedy (causing catharsis) should lead to pleasure. His word has been duly followed by all the news channels in the country. They all have one maxim- tragedy should cause pleasure (and hence increase TRPs). This maxim was aptly demonstrated by the coverage of the Delhi blast on 27th September, 2008. All the channels attempted to make their coverage as entertaining as possible; however, it was neither entertaining nor informative.

News channels have a disability or amnesia; they tend to forget the rest of the world when an incident such as a blast occurs. So on Saturday afternoon all the channels exclusively covered the Delhi blasts. No other news featured, not even as a scroll. Fine but even this exclusive coverage was not exhaustive. They kept harping on the same thing over and over again for more than an hour. Every channel followed a similar pattern: the screens kept flashing, in big font and bold letters – Breaking News, Blasts in Delhi, Blasts at 2:15pm ( or 2:18pm in case of India TV), 50/10/15 injured ( depending upon the channel), while a reporter form the news room kept questioning the on-location correspondents in the background. The questions and their answers were also painfully repetitive and devoid of information. Within twenty minutes of the blasts every channel wanted to know the nature of the blast, also of the injuries sustained, the death toll and most importantly- the culprits. The answers to all these questions were: the police have not confirmed anything. This was followed by an uninformed tirade by the correspondents.

Some channels also provided graphic details of the blasts. According to Headlines Today 2 persons on a black Bajaj motorcycle threw “black polythene” and this led to the explosion. CNN-IBN claimed that the cause was a tiffin box containing explosives. India TV again had the most exclusive and unique news to offer: A Mahila Aatanki (Female terrorist) was the pillion rider who threw the explosive. And, she was wearing a dark colored dress!

By the end of the first ½ hour, post the blast the channels got hold of a visual clipping of a bloodstain on the road encircled with white chalk. The channels repeatedly kept zooming in and out of this bloodstain while correspondents discussed the nature of the bazaar in the background. Some channels like Zee News claimed that this video, which was played for over 20 mins on every channel, was a Live telecast. And Headlines Today thought it to be Exclusive.

Every channel claimed to have delivered the news before the others. But what news did they deliver? They kept saying and flashing the same thing for over an hour. By the end of which all the viewers knew, was that: there was a blast in S. Delhi.

Bisleri … I have had it!

Ever overheard conversations of school children? Usually they like to boast about the great and unique experiences they have had. They like to outdo their friends in having done the new “in” thing before them. And so they rattle on endlessly with tales of uber cool holidays to Paris or US, or describe (in much detail) and flaunt their latest gizmos, gadgets, comp. games, mobiles, ipods, iphones and the like. They talk of the cool restaurants they have been to, the various cuisines they have tried, the latest mocktail or cocktail that they had. Also, of designer clothes and accessories.

Lately I happened to encounter one such competition between two school girls. It was sparked by my bottle of Bisleri water. One girl asked the other what I was having. The other felt great and enlightened her friend about the contents of my bottle. The ignorant girl was a bit astonished that it was just water after all. The enlightened girl carried on, its water, Bisleri, I have had it. When we had gone out last year my dad purchased a big bottle of it (mine was too small, so she outdid me too). We drank from it, all of us had it. I have had Bisleri, she announced with pride. The ignorant was awed by the reach of her friend. After all she had had Bisleri.



(I over heard this, not in a village or such place, but in the trains of our very affluent Mumbai)

In the company of the courtesan

-Sarah Dunant



A very well written and vivid book. It recreates history in an extremely charming style. You almost hear the splash of the waters of Venice as the oars hit against them. You feel the moist breeze, the crowded streets, their din and clamor, a city bustling with activity. Sarah Dunant very beautifully brings to life 16th century Venice in her gripping novel In the company of the courtesan.

Your guide through 16th century Rome (for some time) and Venice (for most part of the book) is a dwarf- Bucino. Bucino is a courtesan’s dwarf. A very realistically drawn character, Bucino takes you across the streets of Rome after the sack of 1527. He introduces you to cardinals, artists, poets, the ordinary no bodies and provides perspective to history. The perspective of an out cast dwarf who has on his own merits earned a reputable position for himself. Though his countenance resembles that of a rat or a dog or even a devil, he is much appreciated for his wit and talent.

This novel brings history much closer to you. You not only learn about the various happenings but also feel them and that too from various perceptions. It deals with many issues and operates on various levels, such as the conditions of the Jews, their problems, their apprehensions and desires, how they were ghettoised and exploited, how fear of the unknown led to their reality being misconstrued and misunderstood. You also see the position of single working women in the form Fiametta Biancini and La Draga, one a courtesan and the other a doctor or a healer. Also the various prejudices attached to these outcasts including Bucino.

Both, Fiametta and La Draga are spirited women who endeavour to survive independently in the most tumultuous of times. We see Fiammetta braving against the sack of Rome. She faces the invaders with panache, wit and nerve. Along with her dwarf she moves towards Venice and endeavours to reestablishes herself. With lots of cunning and pains Bucino and Fiammetta reestablish themselves. La Draga is also an extremely well drawn character. She is immensely talented and is a very good physician. But in order to make a living she presents herself as a blind cripple when in actuality she is a beautiful girl with sound vision. When she heals people in this attire or gives them potions there is a certain amount of mysticism attached to her and so people tend to believe in her powers to heal. However, she is misunderstood for a witch and is also condemned to death for witchcraft. Thus, we also encounter the gaols of Venice and conditions of prisoners then.

The book which attempts to re create history goes beyond that aim. For the characters are not mere caricatures of historical personages. They feel, they emote, they are real and they exist in Dunant’s fictional world as much as in history. Towards the end the narrative slips into the Stream of Consciousness mode. You feel with Bucino, the fear, the agony, the pain, the confusion, of discovering love and friendship amidst long standing misconceptions, then encountering a long forgotten betrayal, followed by immense fury and anger, and then having to face the guilt of destroying the life of one’s saviour and love.

MHADA mayhem

MHADA authorities attempted to elude responsibility for the collapse of Saifee building in Byculla which lead to the death of one girl and which was repaired just in 2003, under the pretext that they couldn’t repair a locked factory on the ground floor of the building, since they have no rights to enter sealed property. They also said that “the tenants did not even tell us that the factory structure was dangerous”. Firstly, it is MHADA’s responsibility to check and decide which structure is dangerous and not the tenant’s. Also, while constructing part of the building the “qualified” engineers of MHADA might have realized that the factory also requires repairs.

And secondly, if they were aware of the vulnerable condition of the building (which they should have been) then it was their duty and right to issue a notice to the land lord to unlock the area for repairs. On refusal they could have legally pursued him and made it obligatory upon him to allow them to repair the building in the interest of the tenants. On failing to do so the land lord would be liable for the damages caused.

It was favourable to the land lord, Thakkar that the factory should go without repair, so that the building caves in and then he can claim rights over the property. Thus, the occupants would become homeless and the land lord would be free to construct another building, sell it, and make profits. However, overlooking the landlord’s desires, MHADA should have thought of the risk that the residents of the building ran for their lives. Due to the callous and lethargic attitude of some officials, today a girl of 20 has lost her life.

Why did MHADA allow the land lord to keep the structure locked? It could have legally forced him to concede for repairs in the interest of the residents. Obviously the MHADA has that much authority.

Also, since this building was repaired in just 2003; it shows the lack of quality of the work done. Mr. Mahesh Dalwani, executive engineer of MHADA says that the building might have deteriorated due to the rain. But it was repaired, precisely to save it from that. Could the MHADA be a bit more efficient?

BMC- provide a solution not a new problem

It’s extremely foolish on part of the BMC to issue a fine for those who feed dogs. True, the excessive numbers of stray dogs are a big menace. However, this is not a solution, it’s a problem. Do they expect hungry dogs to be decent? Definitely hungry dogs will pounce on people with plastic bags. Instead the BMC should reintroduce dog pounds. Or it should keep them enclosed somewhere.

Helen Fielding and her overactive imagination!

Olivia Joules and the overactive imagination
-Helen Fielding

Chick lit slash mystery novel slash terrorism thriller slash feminist concerns book slash woman’s identity/ individuality/ independence search slash Bond slash Holmes slash whatever!

Oh my god! What in the world is this? What is happening? Why is it happening? What’s the aim, the theme, the plot, Is there any story? What?

Just too many “Watts” generated by one Joule!

This is one thoroughly confused and confusing book. All of a sudden a terrorist is introduced then follow M16, CIA, and also a great catastrophe from which the Oscars are saved! And all of this is based on one woman’s totally absurd, irrational suspicions, like Ferramo is “languid”. The book doesn’t seem to make any sense what so ever. It not only requires willing suspension of disbelief but it also demands complete suspension of all sense, logic and rationale. (Despite that, at times it does make you laugh and hence can be called entertaining.) However, it completely befuddles the readers and expects them to be foolish enough to believe the story line (that is, if there is any story line.)

Nothing beats the charm of the written word.

The difference between reading and e-reading is that reading restricts one to the written word, whereas e-reading lets one go way beyond the written word. While reading an article online one can just click or google the words or names or facts (anything) that are not understood and can easily access information or discussions on it. However, while reading physically one has to leave that job for later on (which in my case, since I am too lazy, never happens). Also, the net gives one access to many view points at the same place. Without having to run about, rummage through library cupboards one can easily access many opinions and facts. This is a boon- for it brings the entire world at your doorstep.

Moreover, the freedom to begin reading something else whiles you were actually doing something else; and then to write about some other thing, for which you can receive comments and feedback, is provided only by the net.

However, nothing beats the charm of a physical book. It is the most relaxing activity. When you read from a book, and if you like it, a bond develops between you and that copy. You begin to love it. You keep it safely in your bookshelf, show it off to your friends and when in a particular mood, which that book arouses you re-read it. This personal bond is denied on the net. I can’t love an e-page. I can’t hold it. But my book, my own copy- I can hold it, I can write my name on it, I can put the date when I bought it on it, I can underline my favourite parts in it. It can become my friend, which I can feel and TOUCH.

What does freedom mean to the youth today?

Well, what does freedom mean? This term freedom is not preceded by the article the …I go into the grammar cause I want to know which freedom’s understanding of today’s youth shall I state. Ah. If the topic had said the freedom, then in an Indian context it would imply the freedom secured by India in 1947. Hmm. But it’s not “the freedom”. So then it could also imply the dictionary meaning of freedom. According to OED, freedom is personal liberality, magnanimity; the state of being able to act unimpeded, unrestrained, unhampered. Or does the topic refer to freedom as described by the Indian constitution. The constitution declares India to be a sovereign socialist secular democratic republic and I quote from the Preamble, “to secure to all its citizens:
JUSTICE, social, economic and political;
LIBERTY of thought, expression, belief, faith and worship;
EQUALITY of status and of opportunity; and to promote among them all FRATERNITY assuring the dignity of the individual…”

So these are the different freedoms the topic could refer to. But if this question was posed to any random youth he or she would say “1 holiday” and would be referring to the freedom of 1947.

(Sigh) 1 HOLIDAY!

Well this 1947 freedom, which now means 1 holiday, meant to the youth in 1947 a very different thing. They associated it with pain (I refer to the partition), joy, excitement, agony, hope. Amongst all these mixed emotions HOPE was the all pervading emotion. Almost every individual, even the ones who had lost everything had had HOPE.

HOPE, to set up a new nation, a country. Our leaders like Jawaharlal Nehru were overpowered by the fervour of nation building. “At the stroke of midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and FREEDOM”. A ‘noble mansion of freedom’, he wanted to build a wounded India into it. HOPE is what kept them all going in the most tumultuous of times. Today, in this age, the 1947 freedom is but just 1 HOLIDAY. And it is so because in these times of comfort, the HOPE that they had, has been replaced by DISILLUSTIONMENT. I am disillusioned; the youth of India is disillusioned. “Join us with faith and confidence”, appealed Nehru to the people of India. They have ceased to do so today. They are unable to do so today. No youth can show no confidence in no leader. We have lost faith. And to the disillusioned youth, the 1947 freedom can mean nothing more than 1 HOLIDAY, songs early in the morning, a few crap speeches and dumb competitions (disturbances to sweet sleep)

Wait don’t criticize us. How are we to be blamed? Why are we disillusioned? Because the 1947 freedom doesn’t coincide with either the dictionary meaning of freedom, nor with the constitution’s description of freedom. It is just some historical event of the past, when some India got some freedom from some Britishers and got enslaved by some other Indians. The freedom just performed cut-copy-paste; wherein the British monarch was replaced by the Indian democrat and a farce of freedom, justice liberty, equality, sovereignty was created. Huxley said in Themes and Variations, “to talk about the rights of man and the four Freedoms in connection… with India is merely a cruel joke.” Ha! Outraged am I to hear him say so.

Well, but we didn’t begin this way. We had a good start. Unlike other countries, who gained independence we were able to maintain stability. Our leaders sought to and strived hard to make India stand on its feet. They were not callous or selfish. They didn’t amass wealth for themselves. They were nation builders. They had foresight. The early independence years witnessed progress. There were projects for water management, IITs were set up, nuclear programmes were undertaken, and heavy industries were set up. This provided India with a base. Today we reap the fruits of those efforts; India today is world power.

But … it failed to maintain or sustain its cherished ideals of freedom. A stark contrast to the Nehruvian era was provided by the Emergency of 1976, when all rights and freedoms were curtailed, courts were subverted, press was censored, elections to Lok Sabha were postponed, Sanjay enforced vasectomy. But Indian democracy survived this blow. Democracy was restored once again. But hence forth India witnessed only politicians, who played political, power games, and no leaders. No leaders who were interested in her betterment; only politicians interested in some how retaining and maintaining power.

“Freedom and power bring responsibility. That responsibility rests upon this assembly” said Nehru, addressing the Constituent Assembly. But responsibility was completely forgotten. It feels like opening a Pepsi bottle- lot of froth and energy, and then all fizzled down.

Do we have freedom? Yes, politically we are independent of any foreign control. We the public do count to some extent. The Jessica Lal case, you may say; one, that’s one in a million. And, and, it’s not enough to give me HOPE. I have lost HOPE. I am disillusioned. Forget politics at higher levels, even basic things can’t be done freely, because corruption has got a very, very firm hold over the nation. I, I as a free citizen of free India can’t get my work done without bribe, flattery, influence. I lose my freedom, my dignity (as promised me by the Preamble) to gain my own rights.

The most explicit example of curtailment on my activity is this this parallel economy in India. If I want to buy a house, I can’t if I am a regular tax payer for I need black money for it. So it’s an unsaid rule, go the crooked way to live here. In the ‘noble mansion of freedom’ (as Nehru called it) I have none. Whenever I step to do something, anything I am confronted by some official as a hindrance.

So why will I have hope. Its money that talks or else nothing gets done. Is this freedom? And if this is freedom then why shouldn’t I just overlook it as yet another bank holiday.

“Nickels and dimes, nickels and dimes, war and peace, its nickels and dimes”, said Arthur Miller in All My Sons

“Rupees and paise, rupees and paise, freedom and justice, its rupees and paise”, I could say.



The youth then dreamt of freedom, the youth today yearns for it.


“Where the mind is without fear
And the head is held high
Into that heaven of freedom
My father let my country awake” (Tagore)