19 years, 400 hearings, 40 adjournments and at the end of it, Ruchika Girhotra‘s family had no justice for the injustice meted out to them in 1990. It was in 1990 that 14-year-old Ruchika was molested by DGP Shambhu Pratap Singh Rathore and within the span of three years, drove the child to take her own life rather than face a day more of torture and harassment at the hands of Rathore and his goons.

And the punishment? Six months imprisonment and a fine of Rs 1000. That is what the life of Ruchika Girhotra is worth. That is the price of her honour, the price of the harassment her family has faced. [Desicritics.org]

Yesterday it was her. Today it could be me. Tomorrow probably you. Hopefully in this New Year we will come out much stronger, as individuals and as a society.

I am not saying in any sense that what happened what’s happening in Sydney Melbourne can be excused & thereby forgotten but the whole object behind this post is to ask (few) intellectual people to stop forming judgment on this “country” on the basis of what is written in the papers and spoken by other intellectual individuals like them and to stop generalizing the entire “Australian community” as being racist. [….]

This was my standpoint in 2005 and in 2009, I continue to believe the same. Australia was home to me for 8 years,crucial growing up years to say the least, from the age of 16 to 23. A country of many firsts for me – first job, first car, reality checks, happy hour nights @ Uni bar, bunking work for a sun tan, crazy Halloween parties, generous tips during holiday season (Worked as a waitress in an Indian Curry House), toilet cleaning (part of my job profile @ Burger King), introduction to R&B, weekend movie marathons, my closest friends & best flat mates ever, two white Australian lads, Dave & Elliot – so as is obvious by now, this is an emotional topic for me. And yes, touchy too. O Boy, it pisses me no ends, reading headlines tagging Australia, one of the safest countries in today’s times, as racist.

To explain it in simple words – I consider myself as much an Ozzie as an Indian. Australia(ns?) and my experiences there have a lot to do with what I am today, not by monetary value or stature, but as a human being. Some may argue that I was plain lucky, but let me assure you that there are many many more falling within the same “lucky” bracket then those falling outside it.

I am obviously not implying that they sit on their arses and do jack shit – The Australian government & authorities are very capable and follow the rules by the book – and those responsible will be punished appropriately (sorry but yes, I have more faith in their judicial system than in ours… do you blame me?).

So for now let’s just stop magnifying every small incident to the size of a mammoth racial calamity. And then haven’t you heard?- people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.

Honestly speaking, I don’t really like Ms. PerfectBouncyFigure. Never did, as an actress and now, as a human being. Okay, so maybe I am being a little too judgmental here but celebrities speaking on topics they know jack shit about or hogging the limelight at every single opportunity available, even when it’s in the bad taste – to put it in plain words – pisses the shits out of me.

Yes, I do realize that the publicity lust comes somewhat with their job profile. But come on, there has to be a limit to such nonsensical hunger.

Ms. Shetty hit the glorydom, after a sagging Bollywood career, all thanks to a silly cat fight. Yup! Think what you may, but to me the entire Big Brother fiasco was not racism but a girly fight blown out of proportion. Anyway, as they say “Jab Upperwallah meharbaan to gadha pehalwaan” and our woman cashed in big time on another woman’s (Jade Goody) silliness – Commercial offers, Brand endorsements, Broadway Musicals, Fitness Videos, etc . Except that her acting skills (or the lack of it) continues to bore us to death.

All good, me thinks. With excellent PR backing, the Shilpa Shetty became from a nobody to a household name in the European market and salvaged some respect among her contemporaries back home.

But what didn’t gel well with my ethical senses is that once the news of Jade Goody’s cervical cancer was out – Shetty’s PR gang took it up as another muft ki (free) publicity opportunity. And in no time, television interviews and news prints were flashing Ex-Big Brother winner’s sentiments on the dying woman.

To a certain extent I can even tolerate Celebs using NGOs & social causes to further enhance their image even if they personally give a flying crap about what they are preaching. As long it helps the cause, it’s all good. On the other hand, basking in the limelight over someone’s death is just degrading.

Some matters require sensitivity….the need to remain behind closed doors. If the Bounce girl did feel emotionally strangulated over Goody’s illness then the sentiments should have been shared just between them… As opposed to putting up a show and handing out open invitations to the world audience. That’s how one should deal with intimate matters….as I see it.

The State and Central Governments as always verbally "condemn" such acts of extreme ideologies but fail to put their words in action. While our judicial system continues to work at a snail’s pace; arrests are made for formality and later bails are handed out, just as easily.

The fact of the matter is that this political "goondagardi" is very much a part of our everyday reality along with inefficiency of those responsible for securing the law & order. Your security lies in your own hands because the government..er…gives a rat’ arse about it.

Therefore keeping the above in mind, here’s my plan of action :

Years ago, on my first day at junior college, my older brother gifted me a baseball bat. Not for the sport but for protection. I carried it in my car for almost two years. Did I ever use it? Well, let me just say it came handy in teaching some brothers a lesson in naari respect.

Today, since I am an active member of the "loose women" club, I bought myself a spanking red baseball bat. Along with six cans of Pepper Spray. At home I have urged my sister in law to enroll herself and my 4 year old niece for Karate lessons.

And I advise you to do the same. Set aside some money from your shopping budget, kitty party, weekend outing – instead invest it in a sturdy protection tool(s). You may think I am over reacting, and maybe I am. But don’t they say, desperate times call for desperate measures?

* Important Announcement : Though I am not much of believer in ishq-mohabbat-pyaar, let alone the concept of Valentine’s Day however this year I have decided to mend my cold ways. And to prove this, I am gifting not one but three Pink Chaddis to my dear Valentine, Sri Rama Sene president Pramod Muthalik.

Like me, if you too find Muthalik to be a hottie then do join the Pink Chaddi Campaign. Believe me you lurveeing can’t get better than this, this Valentines.

On being Selfish – Mumbai Train blasts were bad. Very bad in fact if one takes into account the sheer number of causalities. However it never affected me directly; daily train commuting is not a necessity for me or my family. But 26/11 was different; it was much much closer to home if I may call it so. We regularly dined at Taj (Golden Dragon being the favorite) and Trident, mum was a regular at the Louis Vuitton & Fendi showroom at Taj. Brother’s business meetings. Wedding functions, it is December after all. What if it was Juhu Mariott? Or Juhu Beach?

Uncomfortable Ease – Wishing there was a bomb blast instead.

Ganda Hai Par Dhanda Hai Ye – News channels on one hand abusing politicians and on the other side, minting money via featuring “Humhe vote doh” political advertisements during commercial breaks.

Show must go on – Yash Chopra and Co. have increased the number of promo slots on news channels for their forthcoming film “Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi” releasing on 12^th of December.

Audacity of Indian Politicians –

• Narendra Modi holding press conference right outside Taj Hotel while the hotel was still under siege.
• Ministers resigning out of “moral guilt”….ya rite, we believe you (not!).
• Kerala CM abusing slain commando’s father.
• Mukhtar Abbas Naqvi and his thoughts on “Lipstick & Powder” wearing women.
• “We will not allow any Pakistani artist to perform in Mumbai and Maharashtra,” said Shiv Sena.
• And the blame game continues.

Responsible Journalism – Good God, where does one begin?

• Arnab Goswami’s aggressiveness on Times Now as if he was running a terror camp himself. Inviting movie stars for discussion on “Terror Laws” in India.
• Rajdeep Sardesai’s pathetic reasoning – “I wouldn’t buy the logic that television coverage compromised security and the rescue operations. Everybody wanted to know how the events were unfolding. It was extremely tense. And, the security forces were dealing with fidayeens. They (fidayeens) wouldn’t time their actions by watching television. That’s a ridiculous thing to even suggest.”
• And this is the same fucker who was yelling on top of his lungs claiming VT station was once again attacked without any confirmation. Then conveniently walked away with his tail between his legs stating, “While reporting on an event of this magnitude, some things go wrong sometimes. The news of the firing at CST was one such case. However, we made necessary amends and immediately apologized to our viewers when we realized that it was only a rumor.”
• NDTV holding panel/celebrity discussions right outside Taj Hotel. India TV and the likes discussing, “Effects of Terrorism on Bollywood”, “Alcoholic Terrorists”, “How pissed off Raveena Tandon is”, “Why was Ram Gopal Varma was holding Riteish Deshmukh’s hand?”…blah blah blah.
• And then there was Barkha Dutt. Who talks rubbish. Looks (fashion sense) equally rubbish. Rubbish rubbish and more rubbish. A seasoned journalist who just can’t get enough of “(How are you) feeling” questions. That shrill voice, awful body jhatkas, almost drowning the opposite person in her spit (remember the principal from film Main Hoon Na). A perfect text book example of ‘How not to do live broadcast’.
• Walking through the burnt remains of Taj Hotel as if it were a newly opened theme park.
• “My channel the strongest”, the never ending self praise.

New Additions in the list of ‘Banned words/phrases’ – Resilient, Spirit of Mumbai, Accountability & Cooperation.

Heartbreaking – The fate of 2 year old Moshe.

Already Forgotten – The victims of CST station attack.

Pakistan – War, the only solution?

Future – Fuck, I want World Peace.

Guess the time has come to talk them through the word “Terrorists”.

For Mumbai Helpline, head here.

Be Safe!

Also on a related note…

The danda (stick) which juts out from the right hand side, just below the steering wheel is what is called an Indicator switch. Push up, left indicator light placed on the back side (and front side) of the car blinks. Similarly push down and the right indicator lights perform their designated duties. And however unimaginable it may sound but they do serve an important purpose.

And by purpose I am in no way hinting the following;

• To signal your chories that sajna is here and the coast is clear.
• To use them as disco lights (similar to what rickshawallas in Mumbai use their stereos for playing dhinchak music).
• Play an April fool’s joke on the one (unfortunately) behind your lame butt by signaling left when you actually mean right.

As mentioned above, they DO serve an important purpose. Therefore make use at all appropriate times. Or else bad karma awaits you.

Jai Maharashtra!

Thoughts of a fan switch off (pun unintended)

Driving back home last night was probably the longest in a very long time. And no, it had nothing to do with the infamous Mumbai traffic in fact it was a breeze (something I would have cherished on any other given night). I guess my vulnerable self was the reason behind it. I was disheartened and not so professionally as much as, a fan.

I couldn’t help but wonder. Here is a woman who has struggled for 8+ years in an industry where only the fortunate few survive and many perish with consecutive Fridays. A woman who was perceived as nothing more than a cheap thrill, blame it all on the ‘item girl’ tag. A woman who got lucky by fate, all thanks to a reality show – she spoke out loud, called a spade a spade, fear was not her forte. Her earthiness became addictive. We, the masses were in love and as they say the rest is history.

But at that moment alone in car, I found myself questioning her very substance and realizing the gullibility of an ardent fan. All previously written words felt wasted, alas perceptions had changed. All in a matter of few hours and the experience was somewhat like, witnessing a beautiful face brought closer to reality, with each layer of makeup peeled off.

For professional reasons I can’t elaborate much on my disgust however will sum it up in the most befitting (and most often tossed) phrase: Stardom changes everything and everyone.

And in case you are wondering about the interview. Well it never happened. Yes,

despite a prior confirmed appointment.

despite many minuscule interactions with her during the entire schedule.

despite an assurance from the lady herself of a dedicated 30 minutes.

despite patiently waiting for almost 7 hours

I was left clueless with Bollywood’s patent excuse “not in the mood”.

I am expected to interview the-ex-item girl-and-now-Yash Raj-actress in the next 48 hours and guess what? That’s all I have been told. Where? What time? How much time? Confirmation? – Nothing. I have absolutely no #%@&*%# clue.

The story is pretty much the same; phone calls continue to be ignored, no reply to text messages and emails, probably directed to the trash bin. Frankly speaking when this assignment landed up on my lap practically from nowhere, I thought this to be – an easy stroll @ Juhu Beach. And I had strong reasons to believe so;

a) Interviewed Rakhi on a previous occasion

b) Her media friendly attitude

c) Backing of an International Magazine

d) Assurances from in-industry friends, "Rakhi, arey woh toh tere ghar aake interview degi".

But what I failed to take into account was one simple Bollywood fact: with a little stardom, people almost become unapproachable.

Also, this not only holds true for popular starlets (or the flavor-of-the-month actors) but also Film Industry’s tiny-tot guppies. And your truly happens to be at the receiving end from them too. In the last few days I have tried to get in touch with couple of Industry Analysts/Critics (to get a quote off them on Sawant’s instant popularity) but with little luck. After responding to initial texts/phone calls they seemed to have dropped off the radar aka. kicked in the unapproachable tactic.

Not acting like the jackal in the story of the sour grapes – but seriously – I can understand if one is busy or stuck in a tight schedule therefore the lack of response. What truly gets my gut though is when they assure you their full cooperation and then leave you in the lurch. Why the heck can’t they open their damn mouth and say so? But no, they’d rather have you hanging by your balls upside down. This kind of irresponsible behavior is cruel and extremely discouraging.

But I guess the Hindi Film Fraternity too works on the same lines as other magnanimous profit bearing industries – Big fishes feeding off small fishes. Small fishes feeding on smaller ones. And smaller ones feeding on the just-born(s). So looks like no happy birthday for me haan?

Traffic, links, feed counts…you name it, “Rakhi Sawant’s unofficial PR agent of the virtual world” became my by-line. And I lapped it up every single time, never feeling that it’s gotten too much.

Until now that is.

For quite sometime now I have been dabbling with the idea of a career change. Not that my current profession provides me any less; working in a family-owned business has major perks and believe me, I have exploited each to the very maximum. But I guess I have stretched myself a bit too far – 5 years in a field that is interesting but not stimulating enough, for me that is. And since I don’t plan on spending the rest of my (workable) life caught up in the same rut, I have decided its time I take blogging rather more seriously than just a much-loved hobby.

Cutting a long story short – Since I have put myself out in the market, freelance offers have been pouring in. Unfortunately though, quantity is all I have been getting (and no, I am not referring to the paycheck). But as they say, “sabar ka phal meetha hota hai” – Couple of weeks ago an editor texted me for an assignment which, he claimed, only I could truly justify.

He asked me to write a feature (running to several thousand words, to be accompanied by high couture photo shoot – you know the works) for his high-profile fashion and lifestyle magazine on a Bollywood celebrity. No brownie points for guessing who he wanted me to write on – Rakhi Sawant it was. Now, Rakhi isn’t part of the magazine’s usual ‘profile’, but hats off to this editor who wanted to get something new and daring in.

To say that I was excited is to the say the least – not only was I getting to write about someone I truly admired for her gutsy and in-your-face attitude (to her profession and life in general), I was also still very much within familiar territory.

Or so I thought.

Dream ends, nightmare begins

The past two weeks have been unbelievably frustrating. Getting through to her has seemed like an endless series of phone calls that were just never answered, smses that just weren’t replied to (or understood?) and emails that were treated with little more concern than you treat your spam folder. For several days, I felt like I was part of a bad Bollywood love song, chasing my elusive heroine around the banyan tree!

And then, when I finally managed to get in touch with the lady herself, she promptly threw me back into the pool of sharks – that’s right, she asked me to speak to her manager. To be fair however, that phone call did set the ball rolling. In a manner of speaking. Although I do have an interview date with her now, I’m still hoping they see the light regarding arranging a photoshoot soon.

It’s really disheartening if you think about it – my first big assignment, on someone I feel so strongly about and all the discouragements that can possibly arise, have come my way. Welcome to the real world, or rather more aptly, the glamorous world of the Hindi film industry. Maybe I should ask Rakhi for tips on surviving.