Mummy-Daddy's Little Darlings

I'm glad the Congress won. But every time they do, it seems to me that regular kids take a hit.

What message does the Congress send to the children of India, when it offers more than two dozen ministerial berths to children of politicians?

Sure, they all won fair and square and so far not one of them has a criminal record. But the point isn't what you do when every door is opened to you, and opportunities heaped into your lap. Almost any half wit, as Varun Gandhi has proven, can make a go with that sort of support.

If you've never had to struggle for anything, or fight for what you need or believe in, if everything, from your education to your constituency was handed to you gift-wrapped; if you're handed a ticket no questions asked, and the fellow who warmed the constituency while he waited for you to turn 21 was your dad, what life experiences do you bring to the cabinet, particularly in this time of global economic and financial crisis'?

How will you learn to empathise with the struggles and fights of the people you claim you want to represent?

The Congress wants to reward its youth leaders and to reward also those among them who have kept their hands clean. But sometime soon they're also going to need to reward people who are young, and law abiding, and have a last name that doesn't recall a famous parent.

Favourite Food: Crabs

Of course, Shoaib Akhtar has genital warts. One look at the guy and you know he has not just warts, but STDs that have yet to cross from monkey to man. You also know that had he lived in a different time, he would be dying of syphilis.

What I can't understand is why the PCB can't keep this information to itself. Do they really need to inform the press that Akhtar is a specimen, that he should be bundled into a jar, and displayed at a medical facility so thousands can benefit from his mistakes? We already knew that!

Or, are they, in their ham handed manner, warning all the men, women and members of the third gender, who have been with Akhtar in the Biblical and Animal Kingdom sense, to get themselves checked for his idea of a super parting gift?

A: Spend $14,000 on Lap Dances

Q: How do you deal when your country's collapsing?

Alternate:

Q: How do you thumb your nose at the Taliban?

'Make way, all, because I’m coming! And I’ll keep talking to myself, I’ll keep the words coming'

Another one of my good friends, the literary critic Chandrahas Choudhury, makes his debut as a novelist in a couple of weeks, with Arzee the Dwarf (Harper Collins, Rs 325)--'the story of the troubles of a very short and very bitter man in a very big and very frightening city, Mumbai'. 

Those of you who have read Hash's work will know he needs no recommendations, his work speaks for itself. But do read this exclusive excerpt, out in this morning's Mint newspaper, and decide for yourself.

'As Arzee went skipping down the staircase, he stopped on the first floor to peep into the corridor, but there was only a cat there, prowling with its tail raised. Arzee grinned and went on his way. All the way down he could hear the clamour, and when he arrived on the narrow street, he found himself swamped by shrieking schoolchildren in their whites and navy blues, hurtling past after being ejected from the gates of the school at the other end of the street, just by where he lived. The sight of children always dismayed Arzee. Although they were no more than ten or eleven, they were all taller than him. Their smooth cheeks seemed to be laughing at his stubbled blue, their growing limbs flexing and showing off in front of his stopped ones. Their curious looks disconcerted him—they couldn’t be allowed to roam like this! He stopped till the head of the storm had passed, leaving trails of stragglers licking icecreams, trading marbles, or flying paper rockets. He walked past these last ones, meeting their stares with stares till they looked away. In the grey sky, clouds seemed to be idly grazing like sheep, and the rumbling from behind them was curiously soothing.

Rest, here.

Prime Minister Advani!

Not. Never. 

Ever.

A Twought

Drop the blog for Twitter?

My Friend, Sancho

My friend Amit's Varma's first novel My Friend, Sancho is so much fun to read. I read a draft of it in one sitting, and read it again, straight through, yesterday when I recieved a copy of the book. If you're in Bombay this weekend do come by to celebrate the launch of the book on May 9 at the Crossword in Juhu (next to Chandan cinema). If you're in Delhi, Kolkata, Chennai or Bangalore, you'll be able to attend the book launch in your own city; details here. If you'd like to read a sample of the 2007 Man Asian Literary Prize-longlisted novel, Mid Day carried an exclusive excerpt that can be read here. And an interview with Amit, here.