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In Gaddafi’s Land
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Posted on:
Saturday, July 02,2011
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The Libyan supreme commander Col Muammar Gaddafi has turned out to be more obdurate than what the world imagined. Perhaps, there should have been no surprise in this. Gaddafi, who has ruled Libya with a messianic fervour, believes that he is God’s chosen one; which is why he rules without holding any office. Offices, with their attendant powers and responsibilities are for the ordinary, not for the one who rules by divine sanction. Hence, anyone who opposes Gaddafi opposes the will of God and must be silenced with whichever means possible. In this spring of freedom, the biggest dictators have bowed down to the domestic will coupled with international pressure. Sure, they did not go easily. Both Zine El Abidine of Tunisia and Hosni Mubarak of Egypt tried to suppress the uprising in the initial days. And those who did not go have made promises of civil liberties and better life to their people, whether they will be kept or not is another story. But none deployed the air force or heavy armoury against their own people, except of course Gaddafi. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. In 1996, I had an opportunity to visit Libya. One dubious Delhi-based non-government organisation put together a delegation comprising relatives and friends to give a peace award to Gaddafi. To give this delegation a degree of credibility and professionalism, a few journalists were invited to jump on the bandwagon. Clearly, both the award and the delegation were sponsored by Libya.
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Not Interested
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Posted on:
Monday, July 04,2011
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All global aerospace and defence companies wanting to sell their wares in India have been courting Indian media with a lot of fervour. It is a quid pro quo relationship: They woo Indian media personnel, with even presidents and CEOs of the companies agreeing to give interviews at a short notice in the hope that this will get them good press. This happens even more at air and defence shows.
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Veiled Threat
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Posted on:
Saturday, July 02,2011
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My first encounter with a head to toe veil, comprising a Jilbab, a hizab and a niqab happened nearly six years back. My cousin, older to me by a few years suddenly decided that she needed to wear this. Two landmark events had occurred in her life which merited this cover up. First, she had turned 30 and second, she got married.
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The Battle has Come Home
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Posted on:
Saturday, July 02,2011
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Kaifi Azmi, the Urdu poet who passed away a few years ago, had a single line solution to the communal problem in India. He used to say that if every Hindu has two to three Muslim friends and every Muslim has six to seven Hindu friends their understanding about each other would increase so much that they would never think along communal lines. As the media attempts social and religious profiling of the people accused of carrying out the terror blasts in Delhi and else where, Kaifi Azmi’s solution came back to me. Ironically, Kaifi Azmi, hailed as being one of the torch-bearers of progressive (read Leftist) poetry in India belonged to the Mijwan village of Azamgarh district, now in the news for reasons that would have been anathema to the dead poet. Like others in the media, even I have been trying to profile the terrorist: the person who does not shiver before throwing a bomb in the public place, who does not die of remorse when he sees the images of the carnage wrought by him, who does not worry that one of his own could be the inadvertent victim.
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First flush of Love
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Posted on:
Saturday, July 02,2011
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Without a warning, Ahmed Faraz’s sonorous voice wafted through the car stereo replacing the sensuous Mallika Pukhraj’s, ‘Hum Apne Aansoonyon ka Afsana’ and I instinctively pressed down on the brakes. It was unmistakably Faraz, I could have recognised his voice even in deep sleep, but still pulling the car to one side, I reached out for the CD cover to make sure. How did I stumble upon this treasure and not know. Meanwhile, Faraz was reciting ‘Yeh meri ghazlaen, Yeh meri Nazmaen, tamam teri hikayaten hain…’ A few days ago, browsing through the collections of ghazals in a music shop, I came across an album titled A Tribute to Ahmed Faraz. Since I have been in love with Faraz for as long as I remember, I bought the CD without really seeing what the selection was or who the singers were. And buried in this nondescript CD comprising the usual suspects like Mehdi Hasan, Mallika Pukhraj, Noor Jehan, Runa Laila, Nayyara Noor was Faraz himself: his deep voice, his poignant recitation, his half open eyes, everything flashed by. Though it was only 10 in the morning, the April sun was already lashing mercilessly at the car. Faraz’s voice, unexpectedly hot April and my own rush of emotions took me back to another summer morning nearly a decade ago. Faraz was reciting ‘Ab ke tajdeede wafa ka nahin imka jaana’, half reclining against the pillows on his bed. I was sitting opposite him on the chair, my notebook and pen forgotten, gaping at him recite the ghazal which he had recited the previous evening at the mushaira (poetic soiree) to several demands for an encore.
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Car Woes
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Posted on:
Saturday, July 02,2011
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Volkswagen is a respected German car brand. It is known in Europe for its extraordinary services and high customer satisfaction. So when, Volkswagen (people’s car) entered the Indian market in 2007, despite its high price and limited services centres, its reputation carried the day. It was expected that Volkswagen European model would get replicated in the Indian market. More than a good car, people desired a high standard of customer satisfaction, something that is lacking in India. I for one, who bought a Volkswagen Jetta in January 2009, lulled myself into believing that Volkswagen would care about its global reputation as much as it would for its expanding footprints in the Indian market. That there will be people who would listen to your car problems and do the best they can to connect customers with the brand for life.
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