Law of MPs

Mohitoz’ Law #268

Newly-elected MPs who take the oath in Parliament will soon start swearing.

Spread the Warmth

January 2nd, 2013, was the coldest day in Delhi in 44 years. Maximum temperatures have dropped to sub 10°C and the minimum is below 4°C. 

And while many of us complain about getting ready and coming to work in the mornings, there are thousands who are homeless and surviving the bitter cold in makeshift shelters including public toilets. Already, some news channels and NGOs have launched a drive to collect blankets for these Delhiites who have neither a roof nor a heater.

But, if you really want to help someone, and don’t have the time to donate blankets, here’s something we practise at home and you can do today:

1. Go home and empty the wardrobe of clothes that are lying unused.
2. Pull out everything you can spare: shirts, t-shirts, trousers, socks, shoes, saris, petticoats, salwar-kameezes, shorts, jeans, skirts and, of course, woolens of any kind (including caps, gloves and mufflers). Do this with every cupboard and every family member’s clothes. (Chances are you have plenty and can spare some without really missing them. Chances also are that you will discard them anyway to replace them with new, more fashionable stuff at the next sale. So, why not give them away today?)
3. Once you’ve pulled everything out, sort them into bundles with at least one top (a shirt for example) and a bottom (trousers) in each. Then add the smaller items – caps/socks/mufflers etc. – to these bundles. Your goal is to create a bundle for an individual so sort out the clothes separately for adult males and females and for children.
4. Now, scout around for pillow covers, towels, bedsheets, shawls…the larger items. If you find some, add these too. Also footwear, if that’s available.
5. Chances are, you will have at least half a dozen such piles by now. Or more. Take these and stuff them into individual bags (not plastic but the disposable cloth ones) or simply knot the clothes around each other and keep the bundles segregated.
6. Then, carry them in your car when you leave home. Keep them handy next to you, not in the boot.
7. Look out for people on the road, at construction sites, bus stops etc. Pull over and call them over: grab a bundle and hand it over to the person. He/she may be surprised at first, but will smile and be grateful to you.
8. Drive off and look for the next recipient of your generosity.

Go ahead, spread the warmth: it’s easier than you think.

 

 

 

 

 

A Collision of Contradictions

There is a strange collision of contradictions happening around us.

For, perhaps the first time since 1947, urban India is resurrecting hope from the ashes of fear. The candle is in transition from being synonymous with power cuts to romantic dinners to silent, tearful protests. Young India is coming of age, they say. From vacuousness to vigilance.

We’re seeing the death of an unnamed young woman give life to a second freedom movement that has engulfed even the most sceptic Indian. Suddenly, ‘rape’ is not just a shameful, four-letter word that tears apart lives; it is the very vocal rallying cry for all of society.

In this paradoxical point in time, parents who had hoped a child named Ram Singh would live up to the name of the god he had been given, cannot fathom how he chose, instead, to do just the opposite. He became a Ravana. There are two significant moments in the naming of a newborn: first, when his name is thought of and, then, when he is actually named – all in the illusionary hope that he will be what is called.

And there are two defining moments when a life is lost: first, when Death punctuates existence with the finality of a full-stop; and then when the physical remains are consigned to flames. Another set of parents, who had named and reared so lovingly their child, watch in disbelief how she goes out of this world and makes it to every conceivable form of media that exists: she is both famous and unknown. Unprecedented but true.

There are policemen, often corrupted and corpulent, but now driven to action and accountability. Once feared and interrogative, they are now faced with questions that will change their future – for they are seeing power slip out of their hands. When you take away their batons, tear gas, barricades and water cannons, you will see dread on their bewildered faces: the uniform is just a mask and the façade is now exposed. Strange, it is, that a political party once at the forefront of the non-violence freedom movement had its back to the Lutyens’ walls of Delhi, armed against its own electorate. Such is the dilemma of democracy. And such is the demonstrably galvanising power of truly social media.

And, finally, the men who plundered her await their own – almost certain – death. Men who, like beasts, ripped apart a loving couple with the brutality of drunken lust. And whose fall into instant insanity will now lead to prolonged legal logic as an inevitable drama plays itself out.

So many contradictions created in just a couple of weeks. So many years of frustration manifested into fury.

But, amidst all the questions that remain unanswered, of this one is certain: the second sex will now be the first.

Be not proud, Death. For, you gave birth to Nirbhaya. 

 

 

 

“Sexy hogi toh…”

A college student gets off her father’s car and walks purposefully towards the Metro station, blissfully unaware that every auto driver standing alongside has turned to give her the once over. Her father can only grimace from a distance and pray that his daughter will return home unscathed.

A young lady waits outside a market, talking on her phone. Two policemen gawk at her unmindful of the chaos behind them as a motorcyclist hits a rickshaw. She knows she is being watched but can do nothing to avoid the stare of the very men who are meant to protect her.

Not too far away, three female friends emerge from a pub and are ogled at by every man in the mall – from the security guard to the parking attendant.

None of this is new. None of this is initiated by the clothes the women wear. None of it is restricted to just one city.

But all of it happens.

And it was brought to life outside the South Extension Market in Delhi last Saturday. I was waiting, impatient as usual, for the driver of a car to reverse his way out of an anarchic parking lot when a phrase caught my ear: “Sexy hogi toh nahin chalegi…”

That’s right. A male voice saying “if she’s sexy, then she won’t do.” I whipped around to see a stud in his late 20s, leaning against a car, drawling into a cell-phone. He would have been a driver or another blue-collar worker but was oozing arrogance in his attitude. For all I know, he must have willingly suspended disbelief while watching Vidya or Vicky and then connected their two recent hits in a warped way.

And he continued: “…agar khandan badhane wali hogi, ghar sambhalne wali hogi toh batana.” That is, “if she can carry forward the family (bear children) and manage the house, then tell me.”

You don’t have to be Sherlock to figure out that he was discussing a matrimonial relationship – either for himself or someone close to him (a brother perhaps). I was too stunned by his words to even take a photograph and couldn’t hang around to hear the rest of his conversation but, clearly, he epitomised the kind of man who would lust after a lady in public and then demand a demure, ghoonghat-covered wife in private.

Janus? Or just your average Indian male?

I still can’t get over that “sexy hogi toh nahin chalegi…”!

First Law of Rajnikant

Mohitoz’ Law #266

Rajnikant will henceforth be known as Rajnican.

Fourth Law of Gurgaon

Mohitoz’ Law #263

Commuters will have to battle it out on Gurgaon’s roads because the city is named after Guru Dronacharya of Mahabharat fame.

Law of Price Hikes

Mohitoz’ Law #262

A fuel price hike will happen on the day your tank is running low.

Fourth Law of Mamata Banerjee

Mohitoz’ Law #261

TMC now stands for Trounced Marxist Comrades.

(Earlier Laws of Mamata Banerjee are here)

First Law of Suhel Seth

Mohitoz’ Law #260

Inspired by The Seth

“Just because I’m everywhere, it doesn’t mean I’m God. Not yet, anyway.”

Supermarketnomics

There is an unwritten law that says that the time taken to get your purchases billed at a supermarket will be inversely proportional to the time taken to actually buy them. And so, I tend to avoid large-format stores like Spencer, Reliance etc. Someday, they’ll get their act – and billing processes – together but until then I’m content to steer clear.

The only problem with this attitude is that one tends to miss out on what’s new. So, off I went to Spencer’s in Gurgaon yesterday.

And learned three things.

First, don’t leave your car in a ‘no-parking’ zone. In a stupid attempt to save forty rupees and to exit faster, you’ll end up at the local police station where it’ll cost you 300 rupees plus a 50-rupee rickshaw ride in temperatures approaching 50° Celsius. No greasing of sweaty palms though – just pay, sign the form, get scolded by the policeman in the tow truck (who’ll also shake your hand) and you’re on your wiser way again.

The second thing you’ll learn is that commodities tend to move up the consumer value chain and start becoming brands in a funny sort of way. I refer to the humble imli-goli made popular by Jet Airways (in the bad old days of full-fare flights). This little tamarind ball of spicy sweetness became so popular that even the erstwhile Indian Airlines had to introduce it and frequent flyers were cajoled into bringing back as many as they could glean away from possessive air-hostesses for friends on terra firma. This, despite the fact, that it was available for years at the local churan-walla or grocery store…“but not hygienic, you know!” as the aunty-jis of Defence Colony would dismiss with a manicured wave. Today, several local brands have mushroomed – or goli’d their way up – and the imli-goli is now available in sundry brand names. The one that caught my eye, though, was simply called Aero Goli and was sold loose out of a tin container within Spencer’s. Ironical that something as traditional has had to resort to the airline industry to gain acceptance. But that’s the way it is with most traditional commodities that are being branded I guess. Or is it that kids – and many adults – continue to see a flight as something aspirational?

Lesson #3: with plastic – as well as Sodexho Passes – becoming omnipresent (it’s not yet God though) and cash rarely being used at supermarkets, there is an interesting lesson in the use of coins. For some time now, we’ve been used to getting candies in lieu of small change but the sight of red-wrapped shiny Nestlé Eclairs sitting in the cash-box at every counter in Spencer’s set off a bell: officially, the 50-paise coin is no longer acceptable (nor is the 25-paise one and anything below that) which is why stores will give you a Nestlé or Cadbury Eclair if they owe you 50 paise. But while you chew away, you may be oblivious to the fact that you’ve been made a bit of a sucker in the process: the candy that’s sold to you at 50p costs the retailer a bit less, so he’s making money on the loose change he owes you as well. Sweet market economics at play.

So, if you’re off to the supermarket this weekend and do spot something interesting, drop by here and update us.

P.S.: the Safal stores in Gurgaon are selling the sweetest, juiciest, fattest green grapes I’ve ever seen. For some reason, they’re branded Bollywood and the pack states they were packaged for Germany. Don’t be surprised if you spot them at Alexanderplatz the next time you’re in Berlin.

Law of Bovinity

Mohitoz’ Law #257

(Contributed by Maitreyee [Moon] Mukherjee)

People who have a problem with cattle class should not hobnob with cash cows.

Shashi Tharoor: from cattle-class to cowed down by Lalit Modi (image courtesy: The Hindu)

Law of Shoaib Malik

Mohitoz’ Law #254
(Contributed by Ranajit Mukherjee)

Sania, yet so far.

The Sania-Shoiab saga (image courtesy: The Guardian)

First Law of Mayawati

Mohitoz’ Law #253

Monday-morning blues are for political opponents only.

Law of Sonu Nigam

Mohitoz’ Law #250

Vidhu Vinod Chopra’s mouth seems to have a mind of its own.

Third Law of Mamata Banerjee

Mohitoz’ Law #249

Just because I’m the Railway Minister, it doesn’t mean the Opposition can rail at me.

Refusing to be derailed by the Opposition, Mamata Banerjee presents her maiden Railway Budget (image courtesy: http://www.ibnlive.com)

Law of Jairam

Mohitoz’ Law #241

(Contributed by Ranajit Mukherjee)

Political pressures can make you look like a brinjal.

My Name Is Khichdi

Let’s get this straight.

The battle in Bombay (or Mumbai or whatever it is people want to call it) is not about a film. Or cricket. Or politics. Or Indianness.

It’s about money. About Lakshmi… irrespective of your religious beliefs.

Mr Khan needs a commercial hit because another Mr Khan showed that a trio of idiots could make more money than many other intelligent graduates.

He needs to remind India that his name is Khan. And, if you see him on TV, or are forced to read his retweets, you’ll realize he’s also reiterating his roots.

So is the maker of the film.

Not because they’re emotionally attached to Bombay or the film. But because they could get financially detached if the producers don’t recover their money.

It’s a good time to be a martyr, be it at a US airport or at one in UK: does it matter if body parts show up in x-ray scans (does size really matter?) though the authorities have rubbished this claim.

But Mr Khan is an honourable man. He claims he is here to entertain India and that’s exactly what he’s doing: with or without a regular release. Even if Bombayites don’t, the rest of India will see his film: don’t be surprised if all shows over the next weekend are sold out in other metros. And the Khaneratti go crazy trying to beat each other at status updates on F’book or Tweets. Suddenly, being the first to watch a film is more important than coming first in class or cracking a problem at work.

And, as though, we don’t have enough problems, our cops now have to guard movie halls. They’re more important than The Taj or the Gateway of India, it would seem. With strife of this kind, who needs the Taliban or the LeT: Pakistan is now trying to figure out what to do with its terrorists on the bench?

What’s worse is the complete khichdi between films, sports and politics. And commerce. There was a time when one sat in a dark hall, having suspended disbelief willingly to watch a character called Vijay beat the faeces out of evil-doers. Today, you can’t sit in the first three rows and probably have to carry your passport to get in anyway.

Is the film worth it – cinematically speaking? Is anyone even asking? Or will irrelevant hype give it four stars when the reviews are out tomorrow?

Somewhere, along the way, everyone’s lost the plot.

As for the roaring tiger, he’s clear: just because your name is Khan, it doesn’t mean you can.

And he seems to be thriving, unlike the ones in the real jungle. Pity.

Law of Shiv Sena

Mohitoz’ Law #240

Khan can’t.

His name may be Khan but, in Bombay, he can't (release his film, that is, without Shiv Sena's blessings)

Law of Rathore

Mohitoz’ Law #238

(Contributed by Ranajit Mukherjee)

If you have too much cheek, someone will surely puncture it someday!

Some cheek! (Photo courtesy: The Indian Express)

Law of Calcutta Book Fair

Mohitoz’ Law #234

(Inspired by the other Hira)

Despite popular demand, no stall will stock a copy of Facebook.