Monday, 18 March 2013

Six men arrested over gang-rape of Swiss tourist in India: woman must share blame for attack, say police

Six suspects were arrested in India for the alleged gang-rape of a Swiss tourist in the northern state of Madhya Pradesh. The 39-year-old woman – the latest victim of India's rising tide of sexual violence – claims she was attacked by a group of men as she camped with her husband in a remote part of Datia district.

The couple were on a cycling tour and heading north towards Agra, the home of the Taj Mahal. They stopped near the village of Jhansi, where they camped about 700 metres from the road in an area of scrub.

The victim's husband reported that at about 9.30pm, a group of men came into their camp, beat him with sticks and tied him up before raping his wife in front of him. Up to eight men could have been involved in the assault. The couple flagged down a passing motorcyclist about an hour later and were taken to the local police station. The woman was sent to a hospital in Datia, but there was no female doctor available to take medical evidence, so she was sent to the city of Gwalior about 46 miles (75km) away.

The issue of sexual assault – and particularly the seriousness with which police pursue cases – has divided India after the brutal gang-rape of a student in Delhi in December. The woman, 23, died after being attacked by a group of men as she and a male companion travelled on a night bus. The couple were allegedly lured on to the bus by four men and a boy of 17. The woman was repeatedly raped and her friend beaten before they were dumped at the roadside. The driver, who was accused of leading the gang, was found dead in his cell last week. Three other men and the 17-year-old are standing trial.

Tonight, a spokesman for Madhya Pradesh police caused anger by suggesting that the Swiss woman and her husband were partly to blame for the attack. Inspector Avnesh Kumar Budholiya said the tourists had been careless in travelling to a remote part of the country they knew little about.

"No one stops there," he said. "Why did they choose that place? They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They would have passed a police station on the way to the area they camped. They should have stopped and asked about places to sleep."

independent.co.uk

A Portrait of India’s Parsi Community

By Shanoor Seervai

Sooni Taraporevala
Grandfather of Ms. Taraporevala, Mumbai, 1985.

Sooni Taraporevala is always photographing, from the changing streets of Mumbai to her family on quiet evenings at home. "My kids are fed up. They're like stars warding off paparazzi," she says. "But they love looking back at old pictures."

These old pictures include shots of the Parsi community, Zoroastrians who emigrated from Persia to India and to which Ms. Taraporevala and her family belong.

Sooni Taraporevala
Sooni Taraporevala.

On March 5, her exhibition "Parsis" opened in Mumbai. It depicts Parsis with the remarkable sensitivity of an insider who seeks to include others. It is a tribute of sorts to her family and extended family— friends, neighbors, and members of the shrinking but close-knit community.

The photographs move seamlessly from busy outdoor spaces to the quiet intimacy of living rooms and times of devotion.

Many were first published in 2000, in "Parsis: A Photographic Journey." Ms. Taraporevala says she avoided controversy in her book, but with the exhibition she included photographs that could provoke debate about changing attitudes and practices.

An image of filmmaker Dinaz Stafford, during her traditional wedding to Matt Black, a non-Parsi, challenges orthodox notions that disapprove of marriage outside the community, particularly for women. "But the exhibition is a personal statement, not a political one," said Ms. Taraporevala. "It's my way of explaining who the Parsis are to the rest of the world."

Sooni Taraporevala
A vegetable market in Mumbai.

She also captures the eccentricity and humor of the community. In one photograph, an old Parsi man fumbles around the pocket of his dagli, a white waistcoat, on Bhaji Gully (vegetable lane), clutching three oranges and balancing a papaya in the other hand. He remains oblivious to the bemused fruit and vegetable vendors watching him. The fruit looks like it could fall and roll out of frame at any instant, but whether or not he would chase after it is left up to the viewer's imagination.

To convey a more serious dimension of being Zoroastrian, Ms. Taraporevala takes her camera into agiarys, or fire temples, which remain inaccessible to non-Parsis. This dismantles some of the mystery shrouding Parsi places of worship and at the same time gently reminds the viewer that different faiths bump against each other in Mumbai, a city that prides itself on religious pluralism.

Another quintessentially Mumbai image depicts a Parsi man holding the Zend Avesta, the religion's holy book, to his head as he prays beside two bare-chested Brahmin priests on Marine Drive.

The exhibition includes pictures from Ms. Taraporevala's own life. In one, her grandfather seems to be admonishing the shopkeeper at Jaora Fountain Pen Depot as he tries to get an old pen repaired. "He had to raise his voice because he couldn't hear very well," Ms. Taraporevala explains. The finger-wagging urgency takes on a fresh vulnerability, but the indignation on her grandfather's face remains comic.

Sooni Taraporevala
Wedding of Dinaz Stafford and Matt Black.

Black and white gives way to color, which in turn gives way to digital—"a switch I made kicking and screaming," Ms. Taraporevala says—but even recent photographs seem a relic of 1980s Bombay. Perhaps because of her instinct to photograph older people, or the endurance of certain customs and clothes, the exhibition evokes nostalgia for a less frantic way of life.

Ms. Taraporevala has long felt compelled to clarify her Parsi heritage within notions of "Indian-ness."

"A writer once said to me that the Parsis have the worst PR," she said. "Outside Bombay, the bastion of unchanging Parsi-hood, no one knows much about how we have contributed to India."

With her exhibition, Ms. Taraporevala invites everyone to experience, for a little while, being Parsi.

"Parsis" is on display Monday to Saturday from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. at Chemould Prescott Road, 3rd floor, Queens Mansion, G. Talwatkar Marg, Fort, Mumbai 400 001. The show ends on April 6.

wsj

Sunday, 17 March 2013

Naveen Jindal - Profile from Caravan


BACK IN RAIGARH, I walked through an old neighbourhood called Itwaari Bazaar, past little tarpaulin-roofed shacks selling clothes, plastic utensils, socks and bags. After 10 minutes, I came to a two-storey concrete house with two security guards, wearing commando uniforms and carrying automatic rifles, posted at the entrance. The guards had been deputed by the state government to prevent any further attack on Ramesh Agarwal, a local environmental activist and Jindal’s most determined foe.
Inside, Agarwal was lying on a bed with his left leg wrapped in a bandage; two steel rods had been inserted through his ankle and knee. “Two bullets,” Agarwal said, softly. “They shot at me thrice.”
Agarwal’s confrontation with Jindal began in 2010, over the new power plant I had seen under construction in Tamnar. In March of that year, Agarwal sent a letter to Jairam Ramesh, then the Union environment minister, alleging that Jindal had begun building the plant without securing an environmental clearance. Agarwal fed the letter to the local press—Jindal’s friend, Sunil Kumar, published it in Daily Chhattisgarh—and Ramesh dispatched a team of investigators to Tamnar, where they confirmed Agarwal’s allegations. In June 2010, the environment ministry directed the Chhattisgarh government to withdraw its approval for the power project.
For the time being, Jindal remained silent, though Kumar told me he received an anguished phone call from Jindal after publishing the letter. “He said, ‘Sunilji, your story has damaged us beyond repair. We had been good friends, and I respect you so much. Why are you hurting me?’ I said, we have carried the factual details, which have been established by the ministry. Our story is correct. He listened to me quietly and then hung up.”
Jindal appealed to the environmental ministry and managed to get the decision reversed, but his fight with Agarwal was just getting started. A year later, in May 2011, the police arrested Agarwal at his home, on the basis of a criminal defamation complaint Jindal had filed in June 2010, over remarks Agarwal had made at a public meeting on the power plant expansion. Agarwal spent about 60 days in jail, while the district court and high court refused him bail, which was finally granted by the Supreme Court. “The words he is alleged to have said in public are ‘hum Jindal ko ukhaad deingay yahaan sey(we’ll uproot Jindal from here)’,” said Ritwick Dutta, Agarwal’s lawyer, who runs a Delhi-based law firm called Legal Initiative for Forest and Environment. “If this is the grounds to put him behind bars, then half of north India’s population should be in jail. Such stuff is said in everyday dealings.”
In April 2012, the National Green Tribunal took up a complaint that Agarwal had filed three years earlier, challenging Jindal’s environmental clearance for a mining project and coal washery in Tamnar. The crux of Agarwal’s complaint was that the required public hearing had been conducted improperly: after the meeting was dispersed by police who had arrived to break up angry protests, the district magistrate continued the hearing, recording the remarks of a tiny number who supported the project. The tribunal’s decision was unusually harsh; after reviewing video evidence, the bench of two judges declared the hearing “a farce” and “a mockery of the entire process of public hearing”. The tribunal cancelled the environmental clearance, and Jindal suffered another setback at the hands of Agarwal’s activism.
On 7 July 2012, Agarwal was at the cyber cafe he owns, a hundred metres from his home. A motorbike pulled up to the shop and two men came inside. One asked Agarwal about the price of a computer, and the moment he looked toward the machine, he heard gunshots. “I saw blood flowing down my trousers,” Agarwal told me. “I cried for help, and they ran away.” Agarwal believes the gunmen were sent by Jindal, and that a retired army brigadier named KK Chopra, who Agarwal described as the head of security at Jindal’s plants in Raigarh and Orissa, plotted the attack and hired the shooters.
According to SK Banerjee, the investigating officer on the case in Raigarh, a chargesheet has been filed naming seven accused, including Chopra and his associate SN Panigrahi, who run a security agency called Superior Fire and Security Service, which provides security for JSPL’s Raigarh plant. “During the interrogation they didn’t confess to be involved in the shootout,” Banerjee said. “But we have collected physical evidence that says the two shooters had met Chopra and Panigrahi before and after the crime took place.”
When I asked Pradeep Tandon, a JSPL executive who runs the company’s operations in Raigarh, about the shooting, he described Chopra as “one of the guys who was working in our security agency before”. “He was not with us anymore—he was previously with us,” Tandon continued. “By the time Jindal came to know about the shooting, the police had already arrested them.” As for Agarwal, Tandon said that JSPL had filed the original criminal complaint, which led to his arrest, because “he used to keep blackmailing us. He was asking for a bribe of five crores, and we said we will not give money.”
Last July, about ten days after Agarwal had been shot, the Congress MLAs staged a walkout from the state assembly to protest the speaker’s refusal to allow a discussion of the incident. Chhattisgarh’s Congress politicians remain wary of Jindal, whose business interests in the state have led him to forge an alliance with the BJP chief minister, Raman Singh. Jindal often invites Singh to the inaugurations of new facilities at his plants; on several occasions when the chief minister’s helicopter has had technical problems, Jindal offered to send one of his private jets for Singh’s use.
VC Shukla, an octogenarian Congress leader and former Union cabinet minister—who befriended Om Prakash Jindal when they served in the Lok Sabha together two decades ago—is now among Naveen’s most vocal critics inside the Congress; he argues that Jindal’s pursuit of his own business interests inside Chhattisgarh have blackened the reputation of the party. “His deeds have given a bad name to the Congress Party,” Shukla told me when I met him at his New Delhi residence. “When it comes to voting, people don’t make a distinction between whether Jindal is an MP from Haryana or from Chhattisgarh. For people, Jindal is a Congressman, and his deeds will make us suffer in coming elections.”
“He manipulates the village council meetings,” Shukla continued. “He bribes the local officials, right from a pathwari level. When people protest against him, he asks police to lathi charge them. I mean, this is insane. We could have controlled him but he has never attended Congress meetings here.”

Fearless Dhawan gets rousing praise from Sidhu



Shikhar Dhawan
Former India batsman Navjot Singh Sidhu heaped praise on Shikhar Dhawan for scoring the fastest Test century on debut on Saturday.
"This is a sign of new brand of cricketers which is emerging. Cheteshwar Pujara, who is solid as a rock, the other Murali Vijay, who is like a volcano and this guy Dhawan, he is a hurricane. They sure are going to take our cricket to glorious heights," Sidhu said.
Sidhu said the sensational knock played by the dashing batsman from Delhi shows the character of the man.
"What stood out in this innings was his fearless approach. There was no fear of failure. He threw cautions to the wind. The most important thing is that he created history. When you are on debut in your first match, your legs will shake, there will be butterflies in the tummy. But he played it like a one-day game," he said.
"Where will you see a man score a Test hundred with 23 fours. Where will you see a man who is making his debut score a hundred in one session. It takes four sessions to score a hundred. He was in the Ferrari lane, let me tell you," said Sidhu.


Shikhar Dhawan (right) is congratulated by teammates in the dressing room after scoring a century on debut on Saturday
The 49-year-old former cricketer said he was amazed to watch the young brand of Indian cricketers who are fearless and play their natural game.
"It's amazing to watch this young brand of cricketers -- they are fearless, carefree and play their instinctive, natural game. It was amazing to watch Dhawan play like that when you are just making your debut in a Test match, your first match. Just goes on to show what attitude you have," he said.
Known for his Sidhuisms, he also added: "the distance from earth to heaven is not a matter of altitude, it's a matter of attitude."
Dhawan, who was handed his Test debut following Virender Sehwag's axing from the third and fourth test, scored the fastest hundred on debut, reaching the three-digit score off 85 balls with the help of 21 boundaries.

Revealed! Bigg Boss season 7 will be called 'Saat Saat Sath Sath'


New Delhi: It's final. The new and upcoming season of popular television reality show Bigg Boss will be called 'Saat Saat Sath Sath'. The sixth season, which was called 'Alag Che', saw TV actress Urvashi Dholakia emerge as the winner.
"BIGG BOSS Season 7 Saat-Saat Sath-Sath Next Coming Season...!" a message posted on the official Facebook page of the reality show said.
Bigg Boss has brought together over six seasons celebrity and ordinary contestants from all walks of life.
There have been actors, transgenders, models, housewives, mothers of stars and starlets hoping to get a leg up in the film industry.
The Hindi play on the word seven is in keeping with Bigg Boss' tradition of pun. Even season six was called 'Alag Che'.

Open Letter to MAHA CM on #MAHAdrought


Dear Mr Chavan,
I am not going to talk about irrigation projects and such things that you already have practiced replying. Let us look at what is happening.
Vidarbha always seems to be reeling under drought. Rains fail, crops fail, farmers are not able to repay debts, farmer suicides happen. That is the routine story from there. You are Chief Minister of the state, so you ought to know. Vidarbha happens to be the National capital for farmer suicides. Insufficient irrigation, failing rain and your government promoting BT-cotton that requires more water than normal cotton is an important part of the crop failure.
Here are some headlines to remind you, if you had forgotten:
Last summer, Maharashtra faced drought too. If you forget the Central Sarkar team’s visit, you at least probably remember that Rajkumar Gandhi too had visited after them. The drought continued. The corrupt tanker walahs minting a fortune. Pawar had blamed Maharashtra governor, for some reason. Remember?
Cut to a news story in the Times of India on 25th August 2012 - this is when (in theory) Maharashtra gets rain. Vidarbha was facing drought. Vidarbha is mostly dependent on rain-fed agriculture. Times of India reported that 14 talukas were drought hit and sowing could be achieved on less than 50% of land. And Vidarbha was lucky with only 14 talukas hit, because western Maharashtra and Marathwada had 100 talukas between them. And we are talking of the monsoon here. It was insufficient, yes, but the water scarcity was happening even during the monsoon season. When monsoon is supposed to provide rain around the year (which has 12 months) 50-60% rainfaill may explain a shortage before the summer, but it does not explain why there is no water immediately after the monsoon.
Nagpur had received more than the average rainfall already at that point.
Fast forward to January, when VJAS raised the alarm on farmer suicides. 10 farmers had committed suicide in the first 15 days of 2013, with three of them on the 14th Jan. They released these numbers for the suicides in 2012. I admit your government disputes these figures, but little your government does leads one to imagine they actually know enough to dispute them. (Image: India Today)
Farmer Suicides per month in Vidarbha for 2012
They accused that false bills were provided for tanker water and cattle feed. What is being done to prevent deprivation of life saving resources to people as well as corruption in aid money?
But anyway, you get the idea that drought is hardly a stranger to this region. Now here are the questions:
What is the explanation for giving priority to industries over agriculture in our state water policy then? Is your government not telling a drought region where agriculture is the occupation for the largest number of people that they are on their own? The irrigation was not developed. Your water policy prefers industries. What water comes to agriculture, over 50% of it goes to the sugarcane sitting on 6% of the land. You are going to have to do some serious explaining how nature can manage such a miracle.
But this is not all. This supposedly natural drought has more such natural miracles involved.
The irrigation scam is horrendous. Ajit Pawar has signed off on the projects. You call it populist initiatives. I fail to understand how it is populist, when the populace itself is cursing you for it, while the people who got the contracts are close cronies and some of them went on to join NCP and BJP. Your coward minister walked out from this programme, but Anjali Damania asks one question. One question without any numbers in it that you should try answering. If the dams had never overflowed, why was their height (and cost) increased?
Sharad Pawar blithely declined to reduce either industries or sugarcane production in the name of profit and jobs. What jobs is he talking about?India has not added jobs in either agriculture or manufacturing since 1995. Sugarcane is the most water intensive crop, and for your idea of profit, it is being promoted in a place of drought. Take a look at this pretty graph DNA ran up along with a look at the devastating impact of the sugarcane Pawar is so attached to.
Sugarcane in drought hit areas (via DNA)
In the meanwhile, your guy in Jalna bullied off the competition to get a tanker contract without having to bid too low. he’s giving interviews in media saying how he isn’t doing it for profit. However free government tankers are a rare sight and private profiteers are thriving. What are you doing to combat this? Or, as CM, are you saying that poor people can die thristy or drink the mud they show remaining in wells and those who can afford will book tankers? Maybe it is a clever poverty reduction scheme. If poor die, we’ll automatically have less poor people. And of course, if they die from daily trips for water under the scorching sun, it is a heat death – perfectly natural, yes?
But it isn’t just about a skewed water policy or neglect, your government is overallocating resources. It seems to be allocating water that isn’t there! Consider this excellent paper with a postmortem of how you do this with regard to the Ujani Reservoir – a Lift Irrigation sceme that was supposed to be tabled on 1st February 2013 – yep. As you were giving interviews about natural droughts and regrettable populist policies, you were entertaining another con. Incidentally the study mentions that the reservoir hasn’t filled in 5 years, has 10 existing lift irrigation schemes and cannot physically contain half the water that has already been allocated from it.
If there are five flats in existence and I get you to fund 10, do you agree that it is a con? Nature does not do allocations.
Last December, the drought was on. Your government was planning water intensive power plants that would further reduce water availability in Wardha and Wainganga rivers. Do you mean to say power plants are like coral reefs – they come up “naturally”?
On the 26th February 2013 (right alongside your sweet talks on the drought), your railway minister presented the budget. In that budget, your INSANE government has proposed a Rail Neer bottling plant in Vidarbha of all places. The first day of the “Advantage Vidarbha meet” on the 25th contains a photo of you smiling magnanimously as deals are struck. Examples:  MoU are power plant equipment manufacture BHEL with an investment of Rs 2,500 crore, and Ambuja Cement with an investment of Rs 3,300 crore; Manikgarh Cements would be investing Rs 1,500 crore and Bhushan Steel would be investing Rs 1,350 crore. What part of this will increase the water available to a perpetually devastated populace? 
CM Chavan at Advantage Vidarbha
For that matter, in a place where the water table is often at 500ft, where will the water for these industries come from? Let me guess? From your miracle water policy of course! This was not Advantage Vidarbha, it was “taking advantage of Vidarbha”.
Speaking of water table, why didn’t your government invest in water harvesting? It is cheap, it is fast, it is effective, it is easy and it would heal the decimated water table of this region. Let me guess, small projects don’t have pocket liners that make them interesting?
Nature cannot explain this, unless you mean it is a natural drought brought about by the greedy nature of politicians and their cronies.
A furious Maharashtrian.

Saturday, 16 March 2013

Don't whine, don't watch Jolly LLB if it offends you, SC tells lawyers

Defeated once in court but still determined to protect the "dignity"
of their profession, a group of lawyers from Meerut knocked on the
doors of the Supreme Court on Friday to stop the release of Jolly LLB.
Only to be told by the court that Jolly was only a film that need not
be taken to heart.

Trailers of the film — which released on Friday — show Jagdish Tyagi
aka Jolly LLB (Arshad Warsi), a struggling lawyer from Meerut, get a
rap from a judge (Saurabh Shukla) for misspelling prosecution as
prostitution. Lawyers from the UP town found it offensive and
contemptuous.

The Supreme Court, however, showed it was not willing to lose its
sense of humour.

"What is your problem with the dialogues? In our courts also, we get
several petitions with spelling and other mistakes. Appeals are spelt
as apples, section 171 as section 17, and similar such mistakes. These
things do happen in courts," a bench of Justices R M Lodha and Madan B
Lokur said.

The lawyers, who claimed they were graduates of Meerut Law College,
Chaudhary Charan Singh University, had approached the apex court
against Delhi High Court's refusal to stay the release of the film,
which they said was defamatory to the legal fraternity.

The SC regretted the lawyers' "unnecessary" grumbling after their
counsel conceded that Jagdish Tyagi aka Jolly LLB was not a real
person. "Then what are you complaining about? It is only a fictitious
character, based on a fictitious story. This is shocking," the bench
said.

Justice Lodha, who spent 13 years as a judge of Bombay High Court,
said: "These things happen in movies. They show Bombay High Court's
door and gate and then show something else happening inside. These are
all fictitious things."

When the petitioners' counsel attempted to draw the court's attention
to allegedly defamatory dialogues in the film, Justice Lodha recalled
Shakespeare — 'The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers' in
Measure for Measure.

"We are not using those words here, but you don't have to bother about
everything," he said. It is for the Censor Board to consider the
language of a film, and not our job," Justice Lodha said.

The court advised the lawyers not to watch the film or take their
families to the theatre if they found the dialogues offensive. "If the
movie is useless in your opinion, don't watch it at all. You know you
will not enjoy it, so don't go. You are giving undue importance to the
issue. Let those go to theatres who want to watch it."

With the writing on the wall, the lawyers sought permission to
withdraw their plea, and the court ordered: "Dismissed as withdrawn".

Thursday, 14 March 2013

In Pursuit of a Mate

Singles meet at a crime scene • The supper club, Delhi • Another
supper club, Mumbai
SINGLES MEET AT A CRIME SCENE
It is not often that you are invited to a murder. The address comes as
a message on the phone. It is in a small market in Vasant Vihar, a
residential area known to be popular with New Delhi's expats. Near a
unisex beauty salon is a door with a black wooden frame. It is wide
open, so is a second grill door, also pitch black, leading to a tiny
dark room where the only visible object is a black payphone of the
kind that went out of fashion with the advent of cellphones.

The SMS that had beeped a few hours ago had something about a
passcode. A note stuck on the payphone has further instructions. It
warns you that on punching in the four-digit passcode, followed by a
'#', a white door on the right that you almost missed would unlock for
all of five seconds. I quickly go through the white door, and follow
the only route possible, two flights down, adjusting my eyes to the
semi-darkness of the basement below.

The guests have arrived and secured their cocktails, but the party has
only just begun. A woman with loud hair—bright red, with strands of
blue and green—a foul mouth and old beads that she passes off as
antique jewellery is Aishwarya Rao, the host. Standing beside her is
probably her daughter Dolly (with blue hair) and bloodsucking
son-in-law Sunil Gambani. For starry glitz, there is also Fah Roukh
Khan and Karimi Kapoor, with Rabri Patel and Charles Morea and his
wife Janet for eclectic effect.

Aishwarya's lawyer Periaswamy, wearing a Manmohan Singh patented
turban, has just read out her will to the crowd, the main beneficiary
of which is a charitable trust run by Father Joseph. Squealing, Father
Joseph scampers forward in a rather fetching calf-length A-line skirt
and four-inch heels.

There is going to be a murder tonight. Of Aishwarya, in a roomful of
people who hate her.

This hour-long charade is enthusiastically, and with much hilarity,
enacted by a group of 20 odd young people. The murder mystery that the
group must solve is an ice-breaker. It is an event organised by Floh,
a single people's network spread across Delhi, Mumbai and Bangalore.

+++
Started in Bangalore in May 2011 by Simran and Siddharth Mangharam,
Floh now has about 500 registered members. "My wife and I met at a
party over a platter of stinky blue cheese, which we both love,"
laughs Siddharth, "and spent over an hour talking to each other." This
is likely a story told often, among friends, family and those who want
to know the story of Floh. "We realised that the best interactions are
those that happen over shared experiences—in an informal, fun and safe
environment."

Simran, who used to work for a recruiting firm in Bangalore, often had
people asking her to set them up with other singles she knew. The idea
struck, Siddharth quit his job at McKinsey & Co, Simran soon followed,
and the couple focused all their energy on this venture.

Members can choose to join the network for three months, six months or
a year by paying Rs 7,500, Rs 12,000 or Rs 15,000. And once they find
themselves in a relationship, they are expected to leave immediately.
Siddharth couldn't be clearer about this: "It's for single people
only."

Members are invited to regular events ranging from a visit to a
single-malt distillery in Bangalore and grape-crushing and
sangria-making affairs to cookouts at Olive restaurant, treks, bowling
and sailing (in Mumbai). There is plenty of dancing, of course,
especially at after-parties. Of the relatively rarefied events, Floh
had a book reading by Meenal Baghel, author of Death in Mumbai, and a
curated walk at the India Art Fair held in Delhi recently.

Floh caters to singles of a select sensibility. Members need to be
'like-minded', so applicants are screened to see if they would fit in
with the group and to check if their personal information is accurate.
"The rejection rate is high," says Simran. Only referrals have a high
acceptance rate (about 96-97 per cent). It is important that people
feel comfortable in the network, she says.

This, plus the fact that a large number of people here are looking for
companionship rather than a fling perhaps also explains why Simran and
Siddharth are uncomfortable associating the word 'dating' with Floh.
"It has taken on a negative connotation, connected with nefarious
characters," says Siddharth. The reference obviously is to online
dating sites, where most people are thought to go largely for one
reason, sex.

To research this story, I signed onto the online dating site OkCupid a
week ago. Unlike many other such services, this site expects users to
answer a seemingly neverending set of questions on their beliefs and
habits (I tired at the 50th). Using algorithms, it then finds the best
possible match for you in your city, a 'like-minded' person. Within 15
minutes of signing up, there were about six messages waiting for me
from prospective dates.

The first was a muscular man in a tight black T-shirt, sleeves rolled
up to show his biceps, and a red tie hanging loosely at his neck:
'Hello MAM, how you doing?' He was a 51 per cent match. And at least a
shade better than one who had skipped several steps of familiarity to
address me with a 'hello dear'. A couple of days later, OkCupid sent a
message urging me to pursue an 'exceptionally good match' who was
'checking you out right now'. My exceptionally good match, at 82 per
cent, and a silhouette for a photo, wrote to me: 'I am.....an infinite
zero.....an intense silence.....and unending vacuum .....:)' If this
was a personality match, frankly it had me worried about myself.

It is natural to assume that besides people 'looking only for one
thing', there are also those longing to meet new people, and for a bit
of romance. But clearly, navigating the messages and working out the
conversational clues to make that distinction was neither going to be
quick nor easy. A 23-year-old member of OkCupid told me that she had
joined the dating site during her years in New York, where she says it
was a more acceptable way to meet people than here in India. In fact,
since her return, she has run into several people she knew from school
here, and they all seemed embarrassed of her online presence. "I guess
it has got to do with dating in India," she says, "My sister is ten
years older than me, and her relationship was all hush-hush till they
decided to get married. It's better for me, I guess, I can openly
bring someone I'm dating home."

In liberal Indian society, there are no questions raised about
choosing, or dismissing, conventional ways to find a spouse. Perhaps
that is why Shaadi.com, a popular matrimonial site, is now also being
used much like a dating site by singles to find interesting new people
to hang out with. However, with most Floh members I speak to—all
between the ages of 27 and 36—requesting anonymity, it is safe to
assume that they worry about being judged for opting to join a
singles' network.

+++
Many of Floh's members had to find the courage, battle insecurities
and break inhibitions to sign up. A young man who facilitates joint
ventures (JVs) between Indian and foreign companies remembers his
nervousness on attending his first event four or five months ago. "I
already felt it was sad enough I was going to a singles' network," he
says. While he recommends the network now to many of his single
friends—and taunts his married friends for missing out on all the
excitement—he finds that men are especially apprehensive of the idea;
they tend to see it as a lowpoint in their lives, resorting to a
fee-based service to find a girlfriend.

Among both men and women, there is also a fear of being seen as a
'loser'. For many, the annual wedding season serves as a reminder of
singlehood. "I realised that I have to make some kind of an effort.
It's easy to get caught up in the comfort of being single, but ten
years later, I don't want to feel that I should have tried harder,"
says Narayan Gopalan, a 30-year-old software designer who has never
been in a relationship. "The only guy not married" among his friends,
he believes that the problem worsens as one grows older and one's
circle of friends gets tighter. It is the same old gang one hangs out
with, and that too at someone's house. This means fewer chances of
"meeting someone new". Besides, he has never been comfortable with the
idea of a romantic relationship with someone within his larger circle
of friends, in case a break-up messes with his friendships in any way.

What one needs is the assurance of new acquaintances. At Floh, it is
easier to ask someone out, even if only for coffee, than at a
gathering of friends, says an art professional in Bangalore. "It is,
after all, a forum for it," she says, "There's no hesitation or
embarrassment in making the first move. It's all away from what your
friends might think, or thoughts of first getting the dope on the
person from your friends."

Of course, forging that connection is not all that simple even in a
roomful of men and women who are aware that everyone there is in
search of companionship. "We keep joking that this is more of an
excellent place to make friends," says the art professional. She has
been part of Floh for nearly a year now, but is content at the moment
just meeting new people to "see where it goes".

+++
Members often meet casually in groups on their own for dinner or
drinks, sometimes recreating the novelty of Floh events with, for
example, a food walk at Chandni Chowk or a return to the bowling
alley. "It's not a blind date, so there's no pressure to talk to
people or to keep in touch," says Narayan. At the first couple of
events he attended, he says, all he did was some business networking
since there were so many entrepreneurs around. "It's different, and
easier, chatting with people about business. But I realised you need
to be a bit brave and proactive in going and chatting with people [on
a personal level]," he says.

"You must learn not to be scared of telling people you're single," he
says, "Unless you tell them, they will never know."

-- by Elizabeth Kuruvilla


+++
THE SUPPER CLUB, DELHI
On a garden terrace, under a canopy of faux-cobwebs, there are about
20 people attending a 'supper club' do. Entry is at Rs 3,500 per
person, but that is not what makes it an 'exclusive' event. To attend,
one has to be 'interesting'. At least to the organisers.

So here they are, 'interesting' men and women, at The Grey Garden in
Delhi's Hauz Khas Village. They will soon be seated at a rectangular
table facing people they have been paired with. If they do not like
their match, they can always get up, move around, and make overtures
to others. One of the guests is a French artist who had followed his
girlfriend to India, broken up with her and started working with Tihar
jail's inmates. That evening, he says, he had come to a restaurant
downstairs and heard of the supper club by chance. So he paid up and
climbed the winding staircase to the garden. There is a three-course
organic dinner on the menu, and, to top it all, a dessert performance
by the English chef Morgan Daniel.

Men and women are matched in a perfect one-to-one ratio. Surprise is
half the charm. Supper clubs originated in the West to offer single
men and women the novelty of finding someone over the intimacy of a
meal, with the cuisine usually as experimental as the romance.
Sometimes, for someone unattached, it works as a way to eat out
without having to respond to the usual 'Table for two?' question.

+++
So, here we are, with name tags, and armed with a little vial of
seeds, grains and mashed potato that they call 'soil', a catalyst for
animated conversations about the environment with other 'interesting'
people. We are also given khaadi robes to wear over our clothes. It
reminds me of Greek togas, but these are inspired by Jain monks in
Gujarat, according to their designer.

In our robes under the artificial sky in this garden, it feels like an
arcane cult meeting, a commune for those who share a thing for organic
food and the hope of seeming interesting to others.

When I had asked the organisers what sort of people would be joining
us at our dinner table, I was told they have been chosen for being
'interesting' conversationalists. There are photographers, some
curators, a chef—who I would rather call a food designer, for she has
unbound passion for dishes as 'creations'—an artist, a lawyer, plus an
architect, a designer, and a few others who I keep bumping into at art
openings or brunches at Hauz Khas Village.

The wooden table is beautifully arranged with our nameplates. Before
the arrival of guests, the two organisers had brainstormed over who
would sit across whom. Personalities and traits were discussed and
matched with those of others, lists were drawn up and switches made.
Creating bonhomie takes effort. Guests have to ease up if they are to
get more than calories out of the dinner experience. Not that there is
any official matchmaking here. It is all kept subtle. And nobody would
admit to looking for a date, let alone being desperate for 'whatever I
can get' (as Facebook has as a response option to a question on why
you are on the site).

A few do not like where they are seated, so they request seat changes.
I find myself facing a techie, perhaps because I had said I wanted to
be in a quiet place to play observer more than participant. But the
techie and the Harvard graduate next to me feel like talking, and so I
play along.

The dinner itself is well orchestrated, with all its conductors primed
well for their roles—the chef, the server, and the one who sits in the
middle, also a co-owner of the restaurant. The delicacies have fancy
names. Presented on stone slabs, designer intervention ensures it is
more pleasing to the eye than the palate. The main course is what I
have always referred to as aaloo bonda, though with a medley of
chutneys.

Not everyone here is single. There is a married couple, and a fellow
with dreadlocks and a cap who keeps getting up from his seat and
staggering about, and his girlfriend who keeps drinking and smoking to
keep warm. They leave right after a second serving of what appears to
be organic sushi.

The artist, seated opposite a woman with big eyes, gets up, asks for a
cigarette, and lights up.

"What do you do?"

"I am documenting this supper club."

"Oh, so you are a journalist?"

And then he explains his work, saying how he has tried in vain to
convince the new director general of prisons at Tihar to let him
continue his work with juvenile delinquents.

If he wants to check out the scene at state prisons, I offer, perhaps
I could try setting up a meeting for him. He seems interested, but
only for the sake of conversation. He tells me how this supper reminds
him of "grabbing experiences". Then he shrugs and returns to his seat.

Others get up and move around, asking for more wine, or to move away
from tedious conversations. The photographer displays some of his work
on his visiting cards, of which he has three options. You take your
pick of a favourite, and that acts as a conversation starter.

The co-owner of the restaurant also circulates, talking to everyone.
Some guests are known to him, others to the other organiser, who is
now prime mover of this project. Chef Morgan plays a key role too, and
she says this round has not turned out too well—not enough talk.

+++
After the dessert performance, there is more wine. And more exchanges.
Some find someone interesting. Others do not. If they do, a Facebook
friend request is the next step after such a meeting. It is around
midnight. I am still hungry. And cold. I cannot make small talk about
the weather, or the city, or politics, or what kind of journalistic
stories interest me. We leave. And later, when our photo editor bumps
into a few of them at another party after a photo gallery event, they
tell her they went from The Grey Garden to Lap, a nightclub in
Chanakyapuri. Perhaps they got more deeply involved in each others'
'interesting lives' there, who knows?

-- by Chinki Sinha

+++
ANOTHER SUPPER CLUB, MUMBAI
Last year, I attended a 'networking over food' event held by a leading
lifestyle website. Whenever I said I had been married for six years,
men leaning towards me would turn around and walk away. "Then what are
you doing here?" asked a woman, "Do you want to meet another man?"

Most networking groups that claim to help you bond with people with
similar interests like movies, wine or food just turn out to be
meeting grounds for singles. Mumbai has many of them, even though
being single is not a criterion for attendance. Last week I attended a
secret supper project after I saw a listing on the internet. You mail
them and they tell you where to land up for some 'international
cuisine' while sharing a table with a bunch of strangers.

+++
A mysterious map arrived two days before the event, and I found myself
with a bottle of wine at a sea-facing flat in Prabhadevi. While on the
face of it this was supposed to be about food, this evening was for
singles. Besides me and a couple, the rest were all single, though
after finding out I was married, some men told me they had
girlfriends. The guests were mostly food and wine executives,
investment bankers, architects, journalists, NGO workers and
advertising professionals. We talked about the hoity toity nature of
those who live in Bandra, about the belief that marriage is futile,
and about stalkers on Facebook. Though my dinner partners did not move
away from me when I said I was married, I was distracting them from
meeting someone 'exciting'.

But, as an unmarried journalist from Bandra tells me, finding
'someone' is harder than it sounds. The 30-year-old has recently
attended two such events after being on matrimonial sites for years.
The first time she had an inkling that such groups existed was as part
of a focus group of an aspiring dating site. "I had a lot of inputs to
give, because I have been trying to get married for a while now." When
she attended her first singles event a few months ago, she still felt
pretty awkward. "Everyone in the room knew that I was 'single' when I
walked in. It was as if that word defined you," she says. The event
was held at the club, Blue Frog. It was the first time she decided she
wasn't going to think of finding a husband but just somebody to get to
know better. "There was a cocktail mixing session and then all of us
were asked to make our own signature cocktail. It was pretty fun."

But she did notice a couple of anomalies. "The age ratio was a bit
skewed, because I thought some people were too young to be there. I am
30, so I can't possibly date guys who are only 26. Also, the whole
focus on singlehood made things awkward. A female lawyer I was talking
to said she felt like she was in the spotlight and that made her
uneasy. When I said 'See you again' to another girl, she remarked
bitchily 'You won't see me here again.' But I did have fun, as I
learnt something new. I am now more open to such events."

+++
There are many such networking groups that have begun recently. Among
them is Sirfcoffee.com, which sets you up on a one-on-one date. Naina
Hiranandani, who started Sirf Coffee, says that she plays matchmaker
after making sure all members go through a rigorous vetting session
with her. After she has confirmed you as a genuine soul, she sets you
up on a date. You get to meet your date in a public place for a chat.
Her aim is not to get you married, just to get you to meet someone.

"People were tired of the traditional way of meeting, so this works.
If you don't like someone, you are not obliged to call back. If you
do, you can tell me, and I will try and arrange a second date if the
other person feels the same. I don't want to replace the
love-at-first-sight feeling, but just want to make you feel hopeful.
We have even actually started targeting High Network Individuals now.
We also have a large number of divorcees. The age group varies from 26
to 49. What one needs to get is that being on a dating website doesn't
mean you are down there, it means you have been there, done that and
now need a different option. It means you are up here."

openthemagazine

Tuesday, 12 March 2013

Nonsense’ gang who turn jail targets

Sex offenders at the bottom of inmates' hierarchy
New Delhi, March 11: Sex offenders in prison often find themselves
positioned on the lowest rungs of a hierarchy of inmates, which
exposes them to particularly bad treatment from fellow prisoners,
psychologists who have studied jail violence have said.

They say the phenomenon is believed to be widespread and, in some
countries, has prompted law-enforcement authorities to segregate sex
offenders from other inmates in prisons where they are viewed as
vulnerable to physical attacks.

Delhi police sources have said that bus gang-rape accused Ram Singh,
who allegedly committed suicide at Tihar jail this morning, had been
repeatedly abused and attacked by other inmates since being arrested
in December.

"There exists a hierarchy in the prison subculture," said Barindra
Nath Chattoraj, professor and dean of academics at the National
Institute of Criminology and Forensic Sciences, New Delhi, a
government research and training institution.

Decades of observations suggest that murderers and dacoits are near
the top of the hierarchy, followed by those jailed for petty thefts or
cheating, but sex offenders find themselves right at the bottom,
Chattoraj said.

Criminal psychologists have observed jail violence against sex
offenders in many countries.

"Sex offenders are treated badly in UK prisons and are segregated from
other prisoners, especially when it is a high-profile case and the
victim is young," said Anthony Beech, head of criminological
psychology at the University of Birmingham in Britain.

"In the UK, a term used for a sex offender is 'nonce' — meaning a
nonsense offence," Beech said.

The violence against sex offenders, called "nonce-bashing", usually
occurs in a corner of a jail when the guards are away.

Psychologists trying to make sense of this phenomenon believe it is a
way in which inmates assert their positions in the hierarchy of
inmates.

"It's something to assert their superiority," said Arvind Tiwari,
professor at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences, Mumbai, who has
spent many years studying violence in prisons.

The sense of superiority itself, psychologists suspect, emerges from
the nature of the crime.

"From their perspective, murder or dacoity may be 'justified' — they
may cite circumstances or reasons that led them to commit such crimes,
equally heinous," Tiwari said.

"But sex offenders have no explanation to offer for their crimes,"
Chattoraj said.

Criminal psychologists, however, point out that prison violence is a
complex phenomenon, in principle influenced by several other factors
such as overcrowding and opportunities for violence. Studies suggest
that overcrowding affects both physical and mental health of
prisoners.

'Disgusting' man

Some of Ram Singh's neighbours grimaced with disgust today as they
remembered a man they described as a menace, who was violent, drank
heavily and used to harass women by peeking at them as they undressed,
Reuters reported.

"People had forgotten about this whole thing. Now all of a sudden,
this idiot hangs himself and look how this is in focus again," said an
auto-rickshaw driver in the cramped and grubby Ravidass Camp slum.

"He won't let us live in peace. Whatever peace we were slowly getting
has now gone again."

Ram's family had migrated to New Delhi from Rajasthan in search of a
livelihood in the 1990s. Ram found work as a bus driver, a job he
stuck with even after an accident in 2009 fractured his right arm so
badly that doctors had to insert a rod to support it.

He later appeared on a reality TV show in a compensation dispute with
a bus owner, who in turn accused Ram of "drunken, negligent and rash
driving". In the show, the moustachioed, slightly built man was seen
walking stiffly and holding his right arm at an awkward angle.

Residents say Ram, a heavy drinker with a violent temper, was a menace
to an otherwise peaceful neighbourhood.

They said they remember an elderly woman confronting Ram about why he
was always drunk. He is said to have replied: "Let me have my way. I
will be world famous like this one day."

A neighbour, 19-year-old Priya, remembers Ram as a "disgusting" man.
"Sometimes, while we were changing clothes or bathing, he would peep
into our house. When confronted, he would be very rude and say it's
his right to stand anywhere."

Ram eloped with a neighbour, a married mother of three, more than a
decade ago, residents say. She died in 2008 and Ram eventually came
back to the slum.

Although he had few friends, a slum resident said Ram was often seen
with four persons who were later to become his fellow accused in the
gang-rape case.

The police report used to charge the accused draws a picture of Ram as
the ringleader of the group. On the night of December 16, the accused
gathered at his house for dinner, where he hatched a plan to take the
bus out to look for a victim to rape.

The police say they found him sitting in the bloodstained school bus,
wearing a bloodied T-shirt, the morning after the crime. A DNA test
revealed that the blood belonged to the rape victim, the report said.

Monday, 11 March 2013

Even after retirement, Tata remains as busy as before

On January 28 this year, a month after his retirement, Ratan Tata
tweeted: "Life has been wonderfully pleasant. There's been more time
to be at home, play with my dogs, and catch up on smaller things that
I never found time to do earlier."

Nearly a month and a half later, the former chairman of Tata Sons
seems to be catching up on much bigger things, too. He has been
jet-setting to New Delhi regularly, meeting policy makers - Civil
Aviation Minister Ajit Singh among them, ostensibly to discuss the
airline venture to be launched by AirAsia in financial collaboration
with the Tatas. It's not a coincidence that AirAsia promoter Tony
Fernandes has repeatedly gone public with his desire to have Tata as
the the joint venture's non-executive chairman. The man himself,
though, has been silent on this.

The day the Foreign Investment Promotion Board gave the venture its
go-ahead, Tata, now chairman emeritus of Tata Group, tweeted the nod
showed the government's true investor-friendly stance. It was an
unusual show of elation by a man known to be reticent.

Last week, in a publicised move, he met Raj Thackeray, head of the
Maharashtra Navnirman Sena. As photographers took Tata's pictures
admiring the pugs in the Thackeray household, many wondered what could
be the real reason for the meeting. It was, however, labelled just a
courtesy visit.

Many expected Tata to look jet-lagged (on the contrary, he was raring
to go), as he had just landed from Geneva, where he'd gone to meet
some old friends. He displayed a special interest in Ferrari's
first-ever hybrid, costing $1 million. When asked if he would buy one,
he joked he did not have the money for the super car.

"Unlike JRD Tata, who retired much later in life, Ratan is in very
good health. This will help the Tata group, as the new chairman is
still learning the ropes. It can't get better," said a Tata watcher.

"By going that extra mile to help the group, he has shown what a true
leader should be," a former Tata official said. After the aviation
foray, the Tatas are said to be planning an investment in banking.
Insiders expect the experience of Ratan Tata, who has earlier served
on the board of the Reserve Bank of India, to come in handy.

Insiders say Tata's room at Tata Group's Bombay House headquarters
remains empty, though he has moved to a new office at Elphinstone
building. This is despite Tata telling everyone he will not come back
to his old office.

It's obvious watching seagulls on the Arabian Sea, 40 metres from his
Colaba apartment, will not make Tata content. Unlike JRD, who had
handed over the reins of Tata Sons, as well as the trusts, to his
successor in 1991, Ratan has retained control of the latter. Since
there's no retirement age at these trusts, which together control 66
per cent of Tata Sons, as a custodian, he will have to keep a close
watch on the group's proceedings.

Tata has already said, as days go by, he would focus his attention on
"specific areas where value can be added to enhance the quality of
life of rural citizens". He laid out at least part of his action plan
at a recent interview with American television journalist Charlie
Rose.

Clearly, Ratan Tata's is a list long enough - even for people much
younger and at the prime of working life.
BusinessStandard

Thursday, 7 March 2013

Preity Zinta: As usual the India media excels in distorting stories

New Delhi: An irate Preity Zinta hit back at the media on Wednesday after reports that she was questioned for over 10 hours by the Enforcement Directorate (ED) in connection with the alleged irregularities in the conduct of the second season of the Indian Premier League.
The ED is said to have recorded the statement of Zinta, co-owner of Kings XI Punjab. Zinta said she was questioned for four hours and not 11 as reported.
"As usual the India media excels in distorting and making up stories. Four hours is not 11hours and every IPL team has been for this meeting not just us," Zinta tweeted on Wednesday.
"She complied with the summons issued to her by us", said an ED official. The Press Trust of India reported that Zinta (38) appeared before the ED authorities at 10 AM and her statement was recorded for over ten hours, quoting the official.
Former BCCI president Shashank Manohar, cricketer Ravi Shastri, who were on the IPL governing council, besides actor and Kolkata Knight Riders co-owner Shah Rukh Khan, had earlier been questioned in connection with alleged irregularities in conduct of IPL-2 held in South Africa.
The second edition of IPL was held in South Africa in 2009 after the venue was shifted from India. It is alleged that ill-gotten money flowed into the T-20 tournament from foreign tax havens. The ED had in 2011 issued a notice to BCCI and former IPL chairman Lalit Modi over an alleged contravention of foreign exchange rules and evasion of taxes during the second season of the IPL.
The second edition of the tournament which came under the scanner also led to the sacking of the then commissioner Lalit Modi for alleged financial irregularities in the organisation of the tournament. The ED had alleged that the BCCI and Modi had opened and operated a bank account in South Africa without informing the Reserve Bank of India and nearly Rs 1,650 crore was transferred from India without following the Foreign Exchange Management Act (FEMA) norms.
Zinta, along with Ness Wadia and others, had acquired the ownership rights in 2008 for the Mohali-based Twenty20 cricket team of the Indian Premier League (IPL) for USD 76 million. ED is conducting the overall probe into the finances of the IPL and its organisers in context with the second edition of IPL.
The agency had asked BCCI to furnish all the permissions and records it obtained from the RBI for funding the offshore activities of the IPL during the second edition in its notices.
ibnlive

'Sanjay Gandhi was Mummy's boy'



Sanjay Gandhi with his mother, Indira Gandhi



Vinod Mehta's The Sanjay Story



Indira Gandhi meets women in rural India.



Vinod Mehta wrote The Sanjay Story early in his career as a journalist.









Sanjay Gandhi, with his mother Indira and brother Rajiv, at his wedding with Maneka Anand.