By Joybrato Dutta

Do you know why people prefer porn that has stories in it? We don’t just want to watch two people having sex. We want to know the build-up. A slight hint of courtship can make it more relatable. And then of course the foreplay. Which by the way is more arousing than the actual sex (I mean watching). In other words we all enjoy watching other people having sex. We would love to peep through windows. No wonder MMS clips are such a huge hit. We all are voyeurs.

When I was 9 years old I witnessed such a moment without even peeping through a window. It has been enshrined in me in such a way that today after 17 years I sit to write about it.

My apartment in Jamshedpur was located at quite a height. Anyone standing on the terrace would get quite a good view of the city. However, other people can hardly see what’s happening on the terrace making it a safe house. Precisely why my friends and I often performed Planchet there. Also, every social gathering pertaining to the residents of the apartment always happened there.

The biggest event on the terrace happened to be the New Year’s party. So 17 years back on the 30^th of December we were sitting in Mr. Ghosh’s house finalising the plans for 31^st night. My friends and I were trying to be useful. Those days we were treated as servants by the middle-aged women.

They used to command us like:

Beta zara kursi le aana                                                                                                                            

Beta dekhna zara nal chal raha hai ki nahin                                                                                            

Beta dekhna darwaaze par kaun hai

And we proudly performed the tasks. Some future ass-lickers even tried to make sure they performed all the tasks before others, just to impress the aunties.

So we were all sitting there waiting for instructions, when suddenly Mukherjee aunty said “Chalo abb chat ka muaayna karte hain, wahin chal ke decide karte hai ki dance floor kahan banega aur Housie kahan khelenge”

So the future of then’s tomorrow hurried up the stairs to the terrace. While the aunties followed us. Rahul and I were the first ones to reach the terrace. We ran towards the corner guarded by the water tank. And then ……..I saw it.

The most gorgeous body was lying naked on the cemented porch. Along with the most hideously hairy ass.

Numerous logical questions occurred in my mind

What are they doing?                                                                                                                                  

Why are they naked?                                                                                                                                  

Why are certain parts of the body the way they are?                                                                        

Most importantly, HOW DARE THEY USE OUR TERRACE?

I was too young to know the process of sex, even the significance, probably even the meaning of the word. Bollywood closed the doors, or switched off the lights or showed waves dashing against the shores, even a cork popping out of a champagne bottle. I hardly understood the metaphors.

But what I was seeing was heavenly. The most beautiful woman in the world was lying in front of me. Naked. Blood-flow found a new passage. A road it had never travelled on before. I felt weird. I felt the urge of doing something, but just didn’t know what. All I knew was that life had unravelled its deepest secret.

Amidst that moment of revelation the super-idiotic friend of mine shouted out “Mummy dekho yahan kya chal raha hai”. They hurriedly wore their clothes. Surprisingly the hideously hairy ass guy decided to wear his shirt first.

Just then the gang of aunties arrived. What followed was a deafening series of howling, shouting, swearing et.al. One aunty came and chased us out of the terrace. In fact she locked us in her house so that we can’t watch the show any longer.

We ran to our balcony to get one last view of the girl. She was beautiful. She had the most amazing body any woman can have. Her eyes were……….I don’t exactly remember her eyes. She wore a red t-shirt. I was praying to God for one last eye contact. And then for a fraction of a second she looked at me. One last look. Probably she was abusing me, probably she found me cute. I will never know. She left with the guy.

I tried looking for her, but I was too young to look harder. She will never escape my mind. She is the reason I like women wearing red. She taught me so much about life. She ignited a flame in me. A flame no one can extinguish. She turned me into a voyeur at the age of 9. And each time I watch porn I know that deep inside me, the 9 year old still lives.

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The final part of the three-part series on Street Cricket in India from Jack Hoyle. Watching these pics and his travel, one thing is sure, he definitely has a good book in his camera. Looking forward to much more from him. 

A young boy shows off his cricket ball as a game gets underway in a temple courtyard, New Delhi.

A youngster waits in the wings as the older boys show him how it’s done.

Next man in.

It’s not just boys who are mad about cricket, plenty of girls are too. A group of boys and girls play in the shadow India Gate, Delhi.

A young boy takes a large stride as the ball goes past the bat and towards India Gate, Delhi.

The ball goes flying over the keepers head and towards the government buildings.

Keep watching this space because Jack is going to give us his presentation on Myanmar next, his last place of stay. 

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By Malathy Madathilezham

One of the definitions of the word Beauty (as given by Merriam- Webster) is the quality or aggregate of qualities in a person or thing that gives pleasure to the senses or pleasurably exalts the mind or spirit. Thus it is related to our senses, our mind and our spirit. This means that real beauty would be different for different people. This is quite obvious when we observe physical concepts of beauty differ in different cultures, races, countries etc. These concepts change with time. Another aspect of this definition of beauty is that these are qualities, which are not necessarily the visual qualities. So anything can be beautiful; music, fragrance, the inherent or developed qualities of a human being.

Let me restrict myself to human beings. In the present scenario, everyone wants to ‘look’ beautiful! A lot of importance is being given to superficial and external beauty. Scientists are coming out with the measurements/ratios of ‘perfect’ or ‘real’ beauty. Plastic surgeons are using these measurements to make people look beautiful. In addition we have the various creams, serums that are supposed to make us look beautiful and then the gyms and fitness clubs. The cosmetics and fashion industry is thriving on the aspirations of millions to match the concepts of beauty that is being ‘sold’ to them through various media. Thus a lot of economic activity is being driven by the ‘want’ to look beautiful. Mine and your want..

But what about ‘feeling’ beautiful? That feeling which does not necessarily come out of how we look. This sense of feeling beautiful depends on our emotional well being, our happiness and human qualities of kindness, empathy and the like. The kind of lifestyle we lead nowadays with all its tensions, pressures is not exactly helping us feel good about ourselves. We lament about the lack of everything but do nothing about improving our situation. We want to look good and beautiful to others, hide our real self beneath this veneer of ‘Beauty’. But how long would this last… thus we have rising problems of depression, burnouts etc. The pressure on us to match up to the ideals of beauty, success, happiness is too much to handle and makes us forget true happiness, our true beauty and ourselves. The external image that we present to others is but a distortion of what we truly are… In the glam and glitter of the world around us, we lose sense of real beauty… and join the rat race of looking beautiful rather than being beautiful.

For me real beauty is within each of us. To discover that beauty within us and within others is truly a gift. Of course, a good dress, or haircut, or a bright nail polish does make me happy but it can only do so much to add to my self-confidence and self-image. What I am, how beautiful I truly am depends on my actions, my thoughts that are again relative and need not be the same for you. Basically there is nothing real… it’s all an illusion… and my illusion differs from yours!! I believe everybody is beautiful in his or her own unique way. So why don’t you sit down and think about what does being beautiful mean to you?

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Since I am a foodie, I am always in search of satiating my culinary delights. Though a Bong by birth, I relish almost all delicacies from across the world. From the Italian Rissotto to Nigerian Jollof Rice – from traditional Bengali Mangsher Jhol (Mutton Curry) to Rajma Chawal – I concoct up a galore of dishes in my kitchen. From starters to main course till desserts – you can find almost anything.

Last Saturday it started raining heavily. I woke up In the morning with a gloomy mood. Saturdays are off days from work. So, after breakfast all I did was lazying around. But, by afternoon when I started feeling more dull, suddenly, the idea of concocting up a spicy non-veg snack came to my mind. It struck me a pack of prawns are lying in the fridge and its been already three days. Lo and behold! Minutes later I was in the kitchen making Beer Battered Prawns.

Here’s the Recipe.

Ingredients:

• All-purpose flour/ Maida 250 grams
• Beer 150 ml
• Prawns 250 grams (clean and de-veined)
• Cooking oil 4 to 5 table spoons
• Pinch of Turmeric
• Pinch of Red Chili Powder (optional)
• Salt to taste

Method:

Clean and pat dry prawns; marinate them with salt, pinch of turmeric and red chili powder;In a bowl mix take some flour and add beer and salt according to taste. Mix well to make a batter;In a frying pan add oil and wait till it is heated up. Dip the prawns in the batter, coat them evenly and deep fry them. Serve with Tartar Sauce.

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From exploring the extreme North of Goa, Kartik Kannan takes us  right south to Palolem. Palolem is one of Goa’s popular beaches, for those who love sun, sand and sea. It’s a beautiful bay, surrounded by lofty headlands on either sides, resulting in a calm, idyllic sea with a gently sloping bed which allows you to walk up to 100 metres out from the beach. If Kartik were to represent Goan beaches on a Normal curve, and cut the outliers, he would cut them at Arambol in the North and Palolem in the South. Both these beaches to him, offer an instant connect to his search for doing nothing, chatting with fellow backpackers on long term travel, boating on a kayak into a picture perfect sunset, and quiet midnight ocean dips to experience bliss under the moonlight.

The easiest way to get to Palolem is to get to Chaudi Village from Madgoan in Goa, and from there take an auto/bus to Palolem. There are a few direct services to Palolem, directly from Madgoan. Alternatively, Canacona is Palolem’s nearest train station, approximately 5 minutes drive away, but for shorter journeys from other parts of India it is almost always better to arrive by bus due to the remoteness of the train station from Palolem beach. So you would do well to check out all train timings at Canacona(http://www.cleartrip.com/trains/stations/CNO) and then accordingly travel either from the South(Kerala/Mangalore) or from the North.

One of the best ways to get to Cancona is through Konkan railways from Mangalore to Cancona! You pass through rugged mountains, lovely lagoons, spectacular views of the Arabian Sea and through many tunnels. The best seat in the house is the door and the window! Don’t make the mistake of falling for the fear of safe travel in 3A compartment, on this segment!

Cancona station has very little civilization around it, so when you bid goodbye to the railway station, be sure you have an auto waiting below, or else you would need to walk your way to the highway and get an auto(1-2 kms).

The Cancona railway station to Palolem beach is about 5 kilometres and about 80-100 Rs by auto. Images of Paradise are not far away!

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By Ankit Chandra

Stumped! googlied! run out! (Inzamam Ul Haq style where u had no idea how could you get run out!) %^&*( %^&*( *()_+ ….>!!!!!

I mean, I am speechless it feels like I’ve grown in a Truman show where I was asked to believe in a particular world, and it turns out absolutely opposite!!!! OK. I will try to explain as much as I can, but beyond this I cannot do anything. Use your imagination, logic, background knowledge or what ever you want to use to get decipher what I want to say.

Hmm. clue number one. remember the moral science class? remember the course we covered? and remember the course we did not cover???

So the thing is, that the course we never covered was always assumed that we will cover by ourselves. Although, there were expectations all around you to know the course and score well in it, if there was a question asked.

Where were the questions asked? Right here!!! in real life!!!!!! God Damn!!! And what used to happen?? The questions were always ALWAYS out of course!!!! So there you are, who was not taught some particular chapters earlier, and then was indirectly told that everyone assumed that you knew the chapters and not only that, they also told you that every one in your batch knew the same stuff and therefore was expected to behave the same way. That was at least an assumption that you took with a sigh of relief, that the playing field is level.

5 years hence. You are in the real world with the education imparted to you at school, and home (most importantly), trying to find your place under the sun. To elaborate, now you are out there, (clue number two) trying to live your life socially, professionally, biologically, and ethically. And while you are trying to balance yourself on all the above mentioned …ally’s, you have nothing but those lessons you learnt in school.

So here is the meat. The lessons that you are using to balance your …ally’s with, include the lessons you never learnt in the first place!!!!!

So one fine day I am out in the big bad (really?) world, and I suddenly realize that other peers from my generation aren’t even following the same rules!!!!! WHAT??? am I like the biggest C***** in the world to have believed what the ’others’ wanted me to believe????

U know what it feels like? it feels as if u were fined a fortune by a traffic cop for having the wrong design of number plate (yes it happens), who later you found out was a fake!!!

I hope the clues helped you find out what I am talking about, or when u do find it out the hard way, lemme know…

By Malathy Madathilezham

Are you creative and how? Explain about your creativity? Blah, blah, blah creative skills/creativity? I am stumped by these questions!

Rendered speechless!

I am still looking for a perfect answer that would satisfy both me and the person asking that question…

Do I talk about of my flair for writing/sketching?

or

Do I talk about my interest in analysing situations/problem (of and for others ) and coming out with ‘creative’ solutions!

or

Do I talk about the stupid/intelligent but creative one liners I sometimes pop while conversing/chatting with friends!!

Then again I find these kinds of questions absurd.

First of all, I believe that all of us are creative though not in the most obvious ways. But isn’t it true that all of us dream and other than the artists, musicians, authors there are some of us who can ‘spin’ great stories, cook innovative dishes, dress up in different styles and looks, make houses look like homes in different designs and create different kinds of ambiance and so many other way that we all use our creativity.And not all of these make for convincing answers!!

There is so much to talk about and share and personally I am not able to sum it up in few sentences which would also spark an interest in the listener… so whenever I am asked that question… I go blank and say something (which am sure is neither impressive nor interesting!) just to go to the next question…

Which may be equally confounded like – Where do you see yourselves five/ten years from now!! I do not really want to get into the nuances of answering that question right now… I think that would make for another good write up later on! So any suggestions on answering the creativity question is welcome!!

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By Ankit Chandra

Off late, or maybe its an exponential function of getting older, I’ve begun to see more shades of gray in our lives. Not to mention I have a huge trouble differentiating between greens and grays ( I think I am colourblind), but that again, is digression.

The grays I am talking about are absolutely divergent from the simple problems as we used to face. much like the transition from 11th standard’s finding forces of friction between two cubes, to finding the forces of friction between all bodies in a moving cycle.

Earlier it was so simple to point the good vs the evil. God Ram was good, Ravan was evil! it was simple. But then IBN live ran a story saying that in south India, some people actually worshiped Ravan and thought Ram was evil! Even that could have passed off as an exception, if it wasn’t for a wiki article on Indo-china war in 1965. Before that, as most Indians, I thought that the fault was all Chinese. After reading that article, it wasn’t clear who was wrong. Chinese, according to that article, were just trying to protect their territory. Whose fault was it then?

Then I watched Devdas (new one, again). Obviously the hero in the movie, Devdas, was loved by everyone. Poor guy, because of the pain he went through because of Paro leaving him or his father punishing him for everything, he got into drinking problems. Although otherwise a drunkard is considered bad, in this case Devdas won all the sympathy because we all ‘knew’ why he became a drunkard. So then, something becomes despicable only when we judge the act. But as soon as we get to know the reason behind the act, the whole picture turns itself on head, and the character become a hero of a Rs. 30 crore plus movie.

There was this character in this movie. That of Devdas’s bhabhi (sister in law). She comes out in a very sinister portrayal. But I now think that was because the movie doesn’t get into the details of her character. If Devdas had his reasons for turning into a drunkard, she must have hers for turning into a bitch. Maybe if those reasons were shown in the movie (like a disturbed childhood, early rape or whatever is heart wrenching enough), we might not have considered her evil. Assuming her part of story was shown and we looked at her with the same sympathy as Devdas, who was responsible for all the fracas? Whose fault was it anyway?

I think the point that comes out is that there are so many shades of gray that I am bound to get confused in between them (and I almost thought I was colourblind ) Most of the people in the world are living in the various shades of gray. Let’s be a little more careful the next time we point are fingers ‘knowing’ whose fault it actually was after all.

By Joybrato Dutta

With curiosity in his mind and an enthused spirit he went on unravelling the veils of future. Little did he know back then, his path will inspire generations. He trotted far away into the profundity of time, into an intoxicating space away from Jeny.

Of course, the woman who walked away.

He knew he was walking towards purity, towards sanity, towards heaven. A man with a broken heart is destined to go towards heaven. Hell is something he has already been through.

He never thought he could walk so far………..far away from her. But when anger and envy triggers your determination, even the shackles of tear drops can’t sustain you. Not that he didn’t want to get her back. He did. Life does give you a second chance. But, would you want to make the same mistake twice. He just couldn’t trust her. He walked over the stains, but looked back to forgive his footsteps.

He did try. His words couldn’t break her. How can you break something that does not have a heart? He moved on. The thought of family and friends did moisten his eyes. But now that his hands weren’t trying to hold on to something, they wiped the moisture.

Recuperation didn’t cross his mind. One reason why he could walk so far.

Now, he has walked quite a distance. To an unknown vicinity. The atmosphere is so exhilarating that it’s almost like a dream. But he knows he’s not dreaming. Because, every footstep hurts. The pain didn’t close his eyes. The lonesome traveller has walked away from weariness. He knew reality hurts but he wouldn’t rather dream.

Stay awake. Stay alert. Life is too short to make the same mistake twice.

Today he walks alone. Family and friends are nothing but tear drops. He treasures them. He collects it in a barrel. Often drinks it. Every drop, every gravel, the misty future, the darkening past, the bewildered present simply tells him one thing

 KEEP WALKING!!!

By Kartik Kannan

You can almost smell the sand as you wait to put your beach slippers on the waves!

Or if you don’t have any, does it matter?

You seem discover LOVE all over again?

…….Over jaw dropping golden sunsets!

……..And to leave back to the hotel room, after the jaw has fully dropped

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By Soumitra Bose

Ex-Aussie Olympian identifies flaws in India’s hockey system but says with scientific approach and immaculate talent spotting, the former world champions can regain the golden days.

Michael Nobbs quietly flew out of Delhi in the wee hours on Thursday before telling sports.ndtv.comthat at least seven girls in the junior India squad that won a historic World Cup bronze in Monchengladbach, Germany last Sunday were suffering from anaemia

In an exclusive chat, Nobbs congratulated the junior girls for winning India’s first World Cup medal but cautioned against a general “burnout” due to a lack of scientific and long-term diet plan in the coaching system. “I have two teenaged daughters and they are part of an Australian system that not only takes care about their skills but their health as well. India have to adopt such an approach or else, these girls from rural India would be lost forever,” said Nobbs.

“The welfare of India’s hockey has always been topmost in my mind. I am not trying to point fingers at anyone, I am just trying to say that India can do much better with proper scientific training and approach”, Nobbs said. Anaemia is a medical condition indicating iron deficiency in the body leading to tiredness and lethargy.
“It’s a very common among girls and in India it is acute. How do you expect the girls to match the healthier and stronger European girls in a world competition? Considering this, the bronze (India beat England) has been a brilliant achievement. It’s nice to give cash awards, but there is a lot to do with these kids,” said Nobbs.

The veteran coach said anaemia can be controlled with proper scientific diet and monitoring. “I was surprised to meet a dietician in SAI, Bangalore who has been working for the last 40 years without having done anything noteworthy,” Nobbs said, adding the government was simply wasting its resources.

Nobbs said India had the potential to make it big in world hockey with a scientific approach and careful talent spotting. Unlike most foreign coaches who leave on an extremely bitter note, Nobbs said he would be happy to return to India, but wasn’t sure if he would like a second innings as chief national coach. (Also read: Rani Rampal: A cart-puller’s daughter who stormed world of hockey)
The 59-year-old Australian, who resigned last month on health grounds, is flying to Perth to seek medical advice for hyper-tension before travelling to Hobart to meet his 15-year-old daughter, a hockey prodigy. Nobbs’ elder daughter is an international figure skater.

Nobbs left with mixed feelings on Indian hockey. While his deteriorating health condition – fluctuating blood pressure and hemorrhoids – forced him to stand down as national coach, the genial Australian was unhappy with several issues that threw a spanner in his work.

“I was getting cranky at small issues which I would normally overlook. I think my health was also refusing to side with me. In Holland during the world league, I thought I would die, I passed out twice and was sometimes seeing 44 players on the pitch” said Nobbs. (Suggested read: Ministry to now fund customised training for 50 sportspersons)

“I couldn’t have carried on like this and with a few things not going the way I was wanting, I think resigning was the best option. I surely wasn’t sacked. The media reported without checking the facts but that’s expected when you are doing a high-pressure, high-profile job,” said Nobbs.

Nobbs didn’t elaborate on the “few” things that irritated him but selection matters and the way players without credibility were picked to attend national camps clearly angered him. “I surely don’t want to work for Hockey India again but India have the potential to match any country in the world. It’s oozing with talent and there is no dearth in resources. I have seen this with my own eyes and there is a lot of work to be done,” he said. (Also read: Sports Minister unimpressed with CWG, Asian Games progress)

Nobbs said Hockey India’s secretary-general Narinder Batra was a man with a mission. “He surely is eager and putting in a lot of effort and money in Indian hockey. He surely is demanding and why not? But he won’t be able to do things alone. For example, if the national selectors are watching just eight games and picking talent for a national, Indian hockey is going nowhere. You are doing injustice to a great kid because his team lost in the first round,” the Australian Olympian said.

Nobbs has presented a vision statement to the Sports Authority of India, a much maligned body in India. The Aussie, on the contrary, says SAI has a big role to play and can turn things around in the country. “My understanding of SAI is that it has to be the driver. If SAI is funding Indian sport, it has the right to ask questions. That’s not happening. National federations must be answerable to SAI and I can tell you there are honest men in SAI with lot of vision,” said Nobbs.

The Australian said India badly needed a Sports Bill. “It will raise accountability. There are just too many people in the establishment who have taken things for granted. And the national bodies have to be wary about ex-players who act like advisors. The game is much more scientific now. You have to accept change to keep pace with the world,” said Nobbs.

The Aussie said the pressure will now be on Roelant Oltmans, Hockey India’s High Performance Manager, who will double up as coach in the Asia Cup in Malaysia later this month. “Roelant is a man with proven caliber. He will learn a lot in Indian hockey as I have learnt in my two years here. It won’t be easy for him but I wish him all the luck,” Nobbs said. (Related: Oltmans congratulates junior women team)

India must win the Asia Cup from August 24-September 1 in Ipoh to qualify for the 2014 World Cup in The Hague. India missed a World Cup berth after a poor show in the Hockey World League in Rotterdam recently. Only the Asia Cup winners gain a direct entry to the world championship. (Suggested read: Dhanraj Pillay says foreign coaches not the solution for team)

“India normally play well against Asian teams. We should be able to beat Malaysia, Pakistan and Korea to make the World Cup,” said Nobbs, who of course added that India are not at full strength. According to him, the absence of Shivendra Singh, Sandeep Singh (both dropped); S.V. Sunil and Danish Mujtaba (both injured) will be felt.

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By Ankush Kumar

The last interview I read on Shahrukh Khan, he said two things. One ‘ Deepika Padukone is the soul of Chennai express’. Two ‘ he wants to be remembered as an actor who constantly tried’.

Chennai express is an example true to his latter statement. The man has definitely tried. SRK has always been your boy next-door actor, whenever he has tried hardcore action, the Baadshah has looked stupid. But here in this journey he has balanced the genres of romance and action perfectly well.

Add to this the comic elements Rohit Shetty style and ‘you would want to get on this train baby’! His former statement that ‘Deepika is the soul of the film’ also holds true. She plays a South Indian girl whose dad is a don and gets the accent and mannerisms spot on.

Rahul played by SRK gets on a train and witnesses the death of a ticket checker, hence Deepika escorts him to her house till matters calm down, and how Rahul escapes the clutches of the goons forms the crux of this Southern sojourn.

The cameraman has captured picturesque Kerala beautifully. The editing of the movie though is a huge let down. The first half of the movie is crisp until Deepika and SRK escape from her home. Post interval though the film drags on endlessly. 

Every time a Rohit Shetty film is filled with amazing car related action sequences; this is no difference except for the fact that Ajay Devgn possibly looks better doing those stunts. As long as SRK plays the quintessential lover boy Chennai express is a joyride, but beyond that the movie falters!

The saving grace though is that the movie atleast has a story, and for a change the item numbers have the fun element than the vulgarity.

I am going with 2.5/5 stars with this movie; die-hard SRK fans relish the character of Rahul yet again. Till then Eid Mubarak!

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By Malathy Madathilezham 

We are all living in this illusion of safety. That a woman can be attacked and assaulted in the ladies compartment of a train is totally appalling. It shows us the lack of security and safety in our cities. Delhi, even though it is the capital of India, is somewhere I would not want to live in and neither would my parents encourage. Just the  incidents that actually get reported would discourage any woman to go live on her own in the city. But this is closer to home!On 28th January 2011, there was this report in the newspaper claiming that Kochi is safe for women. I sarcastically had retorted that this is because women here do not step out after 7 pm!

If anything this recent tragedy that cut short the life of Soumya only points to the glaring issues that need to be addressed regarding the safety and security of women. The fact that this happened in the Ladies compartment of a train, is ironic and makes us question the kind of security provided.  This struck me as my parents always asked me to avoid sitting in the ladies compartment unless there are a good number of co – passengers. According to them the ladies compartment in the most dangerous one!

Lot of hue and cry is being raised over this incident now. Citizens are agitated and indignant. The politicians are making statements and counter statements.A lot of promises are being made. The media is also giving a lot of hype. But what will change actually remains to be seen. Once this story becomes ‘stale’, will the issue of the freedom of a woman to travel, to even get out of the house at any time of the day remain an important issue? Will the women in Kerala stand up and raise their voice against any kind of exploitation or harassment  faced by them almost on a daily basis? Or will they accuse each other of being the instigating these attacks? I now remember the public signature campaign that our college students’ council against the harassment faced by women while travelling in buses and otherwise. It had generated a mass response from both the local media and the public and a lot of changes were definitely brought about. But even those were short lived and not consistent.

Who is to blame for these kind of attacks on the dignity and safety of women?

The lax attitude of the government?

The society in which such perverted characters are molded?

Ourselves?

How can such attacks be prevented? How can we make our cities safer for women? Multiple responsibilities fall on multiple people.

Let us first talk about ourselves before anyone else.

So how do we ensure our safety, security and keep our dignity? The easiest and most obvious is not to travel alone after a certain time.  But that would only encourage these hoodlums to attack the women who have no other choice but to travel by night. And what if you are attacked when at home or somewhere else?

I have written down some thoughts, which came to my mind

• Learn some self-defense techniques! It will also boost your confidence.
• Be alert and aware of people and your surroundings (this is applicable whether it is day or night)
• Stay with the crowd. Especially at night do not move around deserted areas.
• Avoid speaking on the mobile phone or do anything which can make u seem distracted.
• Use a barrier or distance to make an attack difficult. Thus lock your doors!
• Always carry something, which is easily and quickly accessible to use as a weapon. An umbrella (especially the kalan kuda)! A Pen, a safety pin and don’t hesitate to use it if required!
• Do not hesitate to scream, shout in case you are being targeted whether overtly or covertly i.e attract attention.
• If attacked, act quickly and decisively. How to escape or how to fight and incapacitate the attacker needs to be decided keeping in mind the surroundings and the situation.
• Use your strongest weapons against the weakest targets of the attacker. The eyes, throat,  and groin are the primary targets while the abdomen and face are the secondary targets. Your strong weapons are the bottom of your feet, elbows, hammer fists and palm heels.
• Stand up for any other woman being harassed or attacked. You also could be in a similar situation!
• Please do approach the authorities. Do not hesitate to file a complaint. The perverted offenders should not be allowed to move around scot-free.
• Share your experiences and tips on how to prevent such attacks with other women. Educate them.

These are not in any way an exhaustive list on how to prevent attacks and how to defend/protect yourself. But I hope it has given you some information and insight. If we act meek and submissive the chances of being targeted will only increase and at the same time reckless and reactive action is also not advised. Common sense, confidence and alertness are key to preventing attacks/ harassment and defending yourself.

What the government and railway authorities will or won’t do, we cannot be sure of. But that should not stop us from protecting our loved ones or ourselves.

Related articles

• 10 Tips to Stay Safe. (safeandsecure2011.wordpress.com)
• Survey reveals sorry state of safety of women (thehindu.com)
• Protesting risk: mapping sexual assaults in Egypt (themuslimissue.wordpress.com)
• Refuse To Be A Victim Seminar (christianpersecutioninamerica.com)

By Shwetha Kalyanasundaram

All set to board the Chennai express?!? Vaango…ukkarango (read: please come…please sit)!!! Is the journey worth the ride?!? Read on.

Full credits to SRK and the moviemakers to have the name of the female lead displayed over the male counterpart! This drew loud raptures from the crowd and what a way to start the two and half hour odd train journey.

Back again as Rahul (naam toh suna hoga), a planned trip to Goa changes track to Rameshwaram, as he comes across Meenamma, who boards the Chennai Express in typical DDLJ style. As the train chugs along, there are definitely some funny gags which have you in splits. A la Rohit Shetty’s ishtyle, the movie serves comedy and action in equal dosages – flying cars and bikes and colorful sets, for a change, we got to see some action involving steel buckets too!

The movie does have its share of rough patches. Deepika’s twang was lousy, despite being a southern belle. Her Hindi was fluent in certain places, while in most of the other scenes, her dialogues were laced with the southern accent. How’s that even possible?!? Gal, you ought to have gone in for a dub-artist. SRK keeps referring to the power of the common man in the movie. Now, how many common men wear or for that matter can afford a Dolce & Gabbana vest today?

A major portion of the film had Tamil dialogues – for a moment, I was confused if I was watching a Hindi movie or a Tamil flick. The female lead, aptly nicknamed Ms. Subtitle serves as an interpreter whenever the need arises. As much as the important bits were translated, it’s obvious that some portions were lost!

SRK’s screen presence is mind blowing and has you begging for more. He tickles the funny bone, makes you shed a tear and packs in quite a punch in the action scenes. Deepika Paduone was a complete stunner and surrenders to her character completely (albeit her southern accent). The veteran southern star Sathyaraj leaves a desired effect but his role was down played that had me a tad disappointed. The villain Niketan Dheer looked menacing and fit into his role perfectly (but even the villain couldn’t speak good Tamil!). Rohit Shetty travels the full mile to deliver an action packed comedy with all the tried and tested ingredients of the genre he is known for.

Chennai Express is a typical family entertainer – full paisa vasool journey!!

Chennai Express: Finally an SRK film with a story

By Joybrato Dutta

When I was in the 5^th grade, life seemed a lot more complicated. I had to complete my homework, and the ones my tuition teacher bestowed on me. Once that was over, I had to study for my weekly exam. That’s not all, I also had to maintain my reputation of being the hero of my locality.

My school was supported by a missionary, where we were always taught about equality, of course in English. And every time we spoke in Hindi, we got penalised. Caste and status were words that never existed in our minds. We wore a common uniform and all our dads worked in TELCO (now TATA Motors). Everything was so beautiful.

Then one fine day, they arrived.

The people from HelpAge India (An NGO that claims to take care of elderly people by sucking the sweat and blood of yet-to-be teenagers).

Task – Every student of our class had to collect money for them. Basically we had to go around begging, only for a more noble cause (similar to most chanda-waalas). We were given a form, on which we were supposed to write names of the people who contribute and the amount.

 The student who collected the maximum amount would get a grand prize.

Deadline – A weekend

 As soon as the sun rose on Saturday, my friends and I set out to achieve our targets.

My gang: Bittu (the tallest guy in our class, an ardent cricket lover and a fantastic player himself), Pappu (brilliant athlete, a role model for all lechers), Franky (a wannabe Stephen Halking. Currently he’s known as Hertz). Pony (she got that name because of her weird pony tail. She also happened to be the cutest girl in our class) and me (a wannabe……… back then I just couldn’t decide)

We decided that we will start with my apartment. Our fingers were crossed as we rang the doorbell of our first victim. Mr. Pandey. He opened the door and said “What are you kids doing so early on a Saturday morning?Aaj chutti hai na? Jao so jao”. Pony made the cutest face possible and said “Uncle we need money for HelpAge India”. Mr. Pandey took her form and said “Yeh school waale bhi na, bachho se majduri karwate hai ”. He looked at all our faces and said “You know what, I can give you something better than money. Chocolates!!!.”

Dhishuum. No, he didn’t punch us, but that was the name of the chocolate he gave us. Back then you could buy three for a rupee. And then with a smiling face he shut the door.

Well, it didn’t really start as we had expected. But we didn’t lose hope. The next victim was Mr Mukherjee. He somehow felt sorry for us and gave us ten rupees, each. We tasted success in the next few encounters and by the time we were done with my apartment we had collected hundred rupees each.

It meant a lot. We did a group high-five and moved to the apartments across the road.

Little did we know, that our next prey would change our perspectives forever. Mrs. Prasad. A short fat woman in her mid fifties with a voice that can scare away ghosts. As soon as we told her about our mission she screamed, “idhar J-type mein kyun aaye ho, woh P-type waalo se kyun nahin lete”.

We were dumbfounded. We were clueless. Why would she say that?

That’s when we discovered that there were 4 kinds of apartments (P, M, N and J) in TELCO Colony and it’s given to the employees as per their designations in the company. P-type being the highest in the order and J type being the lowest.

I stayed in a P-type and for the first time, a feeling of superiority crept in. Bittu and Pony also stayed in a P-type, Franky in a M-type (2^nd in rank) and Pappu in a J type.

We looked at Pappu with a look suggesting that he stayed in a pathetic neighbourhood. I told my gang to ignore J-type completely. Everyone agreed, except Pappu. He didn’t want to disown his neighbourhood. A small tussle followed and then we parted ways.

We decided that we’ll collect minimum fifty rupees from everyone in a P-type, thirty from the residents of M-type and ten rupees from the people staying in N-type.

The plan was fruitful. By the end of the day we had collected a lot of money. Most families co-operated. Of course there were a few who mistook us to be ‘chanda waalas’. And then there were those, who simply offered their blessings.

Pony called that night, “You know how much Pappu has collected? Twenty five hundred already”. I was startled. How was that possible? How could those poverty stricken souls of J-type contribute more than the affluent residents of P type. Then, I realised something, TELCO colony was a mini representation of our country. More poor people than rich. There were more J-types than the number of P-types.

Next morning we got together and discussed Pappu’s success. We were jealous and angry. More importantly we weren’t ready to accept defeat from a J-type lout. Just then we saw Pappu walking towards a P-type. We stopped him.

What followed next was something we had never thought of before. We uttered words we didn’t know existed. We made it clear that he cannot enter our compound because he does not belong here. He isn’t one of us.

Tears rolled down his eyes. We had never seen him like that. The fastest runner in our class used all his skills to run away from us. We looked at each other with a sense of pride. It was victory for us. We had chased away our rival. But, even in that auspicious moment a feeling of guilt clouded our minds.

We had just one more day to finish the task. And we were not going to leave any leaf unturned. We took out our bicycles and journeyed out to accomplish the mission. The scorching sun and the fearsome traffic could not dampen our spirits. We decided that we should try going separate ways. That way we could visit more people.

I started with the families I knew. My dad held quite a significant position in the company and also he was a popular doctor. I knew no one would turn me down. In fact, they were all very polite to me. They didn’t just give me the money but also gave me a glass of Rasna. A few of them were kind enough to take me around and make sure that their neighbours also helped me with the money.

We regrouped in my house at 4 PM. It was time for our favourite programme The Swat Cats. Also, we could now calculate the amount. Pony was leading. Women, they always get the edge. She had hundred rupees more than me. Damn!!! But I was glad that at least the winner will be from amongst us.

We kept wondering what our reputation will be like from now on. Everyone will respect us. Teachers won’t give us homework. And even if they give, our seniors will do it. Because they all will know that we are the richest in the school. Our dads are the richest.

Bittu spoke to a few other classmates and we figured that we had collected a lot more than anyone else. Phew!!! We all breathed a sigh of relief. But we all were scared of Pappu. He could beat us. There were a lot more J-types. That’s when Franky came up with an awesome plan.

We stormed out of our apartments and went straight to Pappu’s house. There we learnt that he was out collecting money. We cycled around the entire area but couldn’t find him. Depressed and dejected we returned to our usual hangout place –Tanki (a huge water tank).

There we saw Pappu sitting in one corner. We walked up to him. The moment he saw us he came and hugged us. He said that he wanted to be friends again.

It was time to execute Franky’s plan. He looked at Pappu and told him that only under one condition will we befriend him. He’ll have to back out from this contest. Pappu felt cheated. He said he can’t do it because he had already collected money. Franky said that we all can contribute his money.

After a long discussion and a lot of brain-washing with a hint of cuteness (thanks to Pony), Pappu got convinced. He said that he’ll give the money if we promise to donate it. We assured that we will do it. After all, we wanted to win the contest. There was reluctance in his heart but alacrity on his face. Pappu agreed.

Next morning as I entered school Franky pulled me aside. Bittu and Pony were also there. Franky said that we won’t donate Pappu’s money; instead we all can share it and party with it. “It’s a lot of money and we could go to Sector Market and have Chicken Chowmin and drink as many bottles of cold drinks as we want. More importantly we were going to win anyways because our contribution would be the maximum”, he said. I agreed since everyone else had agreed.

Finally after the end of the day our class-teacher came with a member of Helpage India. “Class, this is Mr. Ojha and he will announce the name of the student who contributed the most”. Mr Ojha, a feeble looking man, started with his boring speech of how much this money meant to his organisation and how he  touched he was to see such an overwhelming response and …blah…blaaah…blaaah. We just couldn’t wait. Why the fuck does he have to get into all these formalities. Just announce the name of the winner and fuck off. Your organisation meant nothing to us. All we cared about was the grand prize.

And at last after a long monotonous speech he announced “The student who contributed the most is……. Yash Roy.”

What!!!!! Who the fuck is Yash? Ohh yes, I remembered him the moment that douche bag stood up. Did he even exist? He was a loser. How the hell did he get so much money? Where the hell does he stay? What does his dad do? These were the questions running in my mind. I’m sure the rest of my gang also felt the same. Pony was shattered. She thought she would win it.

All of a sudden Yash had become a renowned figure. We got to know that his dad was a rich businessman and it was him who made the whole contribution because Yash never went around collecting money.

A few days later a list was put up, which stated the amount each one had contributed. We were shocked. Pony was second. I was third. Bittu and Franky followed. Yash’s contribution was just three hundred rupees more than Pony’s.

It also implied that if we had used Pappu’s contribution we could have won the contest by a huge margin. If only. But alas!! We gave Franky an angry stare and then started walking towards our class.

Pappu came running to us and said, “Hey guys I am sorry that even my contribution couldn’t help you win”. I felt ashamed of what we did. My eyes couldn’t meet his. In that moment of shame and guilt all I could say was “Hey Pappu, you are a true friend, you were of great help. Come I will give you a treat in Sector Market. Let’s go and eat some Chicken chowmin.” And together we all went to Sector Market.

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By Ankit Chandra

A normal professional’s work day today begins in the morning clamoring to get to work. Once there, there is this cooling off period, although varying, but there for sure to begin to look at news, sports, email etc. A lot of websites are ‘favorites’ and browsers like chrome do put them up for your easy retrieval on a new tab.

A basic assumption there is that most of this material is free. Yes there are those ads, but either we don’t care about them, or we just install a browser plugin to remove all the ads from a page. And of course Google makes its billions from all the ad revenue you can think of.

And then recently New York Times announced that it will begin charging for its online content. Wall Street already has a subscription model around its online content, and we’ve been hearing all the stuff about  SaaS business models where everyone charges for everything they sell.

So is this the beginning of the end of free stuff? Is the advertising model kinda running out of steam?

I think this is the next wave of evolution on the internet. This appears to be the common ground that the e-world would have to come to with the traditional world. A world where you get what you pay for. A world where money has to be earned.

I don’t have anything against the advertising model. I think it is great for a certain types of the websites, where the content is pretty much commoditized, and a subset of the internet population comes there.  But if a service is differentiated and there is a demand for it, the company now seems to be in a position to charge premium for it.

A major reason for this is the huge growth in internet users from across the globe, and their increasingly varying needs from the internet. Going forward, Internet will begin to resemble our own real world. where some things are free, and some you gotta pay for.

So I think its time for us to get ready to make that choice. Do you want to pay for your surf or get what you don’t want to pay for? I’d say, brace yourself. The internet is evolving into a new more self aware beast, and there is no more free lunch…

By Sharon Andrew, Happiness Evangelist at Happiest Minds Technologies, Bangalore

The Mumbai Dabbawala’s deliver 120 tons of food each day, out of which 16 tons is uneaten.

At the same time, on Mumbai’s streets, there are two hundred thousand children who go hungry every day.

The ‘Share My Dabba’ initiative, a joint effort between the Happy Life Welfare Society and The Dabbawala Foundation, gets the leftover food in dabbas to the hungry street children using a tiny sticker and the extensive and efficient dabbawala network.

The dabbawalas separate the dabbas marked with the sticker & volunteers share the food with the hungry children.

Here’s a video on how it works: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZC1czZofyY

A simple sticker that demonstrates that SHARING = CARING.

A small gesture that makes a difference to 200,000 and more children every single day.

Food for thought.

By Malathy Madathilezham

Frankly,I take offence to this term eve teasing.. Wikipedia describes this term as a euphemism used in India and Pakistan for sexual harassment or molestation of women by men in public… According to me it just makes light of the inexcusable, immoral and lecherous actions of filthy cowardly men who do not leave an opportunity to humiliate women.

Personally, I myself have undergone and have seen such shameful instances and am proud to say that I have stood up against the insensitive and disrespectful perpetrator(s) of such actions. But more often than not, the woman/girl is ‘advised’ to keep her mouth shut and tolerate such disrespectful actions. What is that prevent women from raising voice against sexual harassment in public? Why are we silent witnesses to the lady standing beside us in a bus or walking on a busy market street getting violated?

Its rampant in India, this kind of public sexual harassment. And sadly, most of us feel that the woman is equally responsible.’ The lady in question is judged on her dress, her mannerisms etc if she dares to raise her voice against the pervert who pinches, fondles, or uses sexually flavored filthy language! The people nearby are more interested in seeing the ‘tamasha’ than intervene and put the perp to task. The sneers, the comments embarrass the lady to no end. Yes there are laws, but more than laws, the attitude of the society, men and women, towards such acts need to be changed.. the term eve teasing should be done away with…

Walking down a street, travelling on a bus, or even partying with friends, the one thought that is always there in the back… How do I prevent myself from being subjected to public sexual harassment? Thus special effort is taken to dodge the hands and legs, dress and act ‘properly’, etc etc but does it spoil the fun or not! So does being a an average woman mean that I need to behave a certain way to avoid being targeted… No!The fact is that, however you behave, dress and wherever you are, whatever time it is… you are at greater risk of being violated just because you happen to be born as a female.

Am I not a free citizen of this country? Why does being a woman make me less free? Why do I have to tolerate the nonsense of the perverted men who want to assert their non existent superiority or sexuality?

Related articles

• ‘Eve teasing’ is a form of sexual harassment (sn62923.wordpress.com)
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Pancakes are types of flat breads, generally round in shape enjoyed by millions across cultures. Though not much popular in India, but pancakes can make for an excellent snack in the evening or sometimes even breakfast – on days you want to try something different.

Back home for my summer breaks (spanning nearly three months) I would trying making some or the other snack almost every evening. So, it was just one of those days that I thought of concocting up a continental delicacy in the kitchen. Though the first attempt turned out to be good enough, but consequent attempts turned me into a good pancake-maker. I still make pancakes and sometimes make my friends savour their taste buds over this home-made delicacy. Here’s the recipe of simple home-made pancake for a Sunday afternoon snack.

Ingredients

• 2 eggs
• 1 ½ cups of milk (250 ml)
• All-purpose flour (maida for Indian Kitchens)
• Salt to taste
• Sugar to taste
• Pinch of baking powder (optional)
• Cooking Oil

Method

Take a deep pan and mix all ingredients except oil together. You can either use a spatula or a hand blender. Stir well to form a thick consistency of the batter. Keep it in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes.

In a flat bottomed frying pan pour 3 tablespoons of cooking oil. Once heated, spread the batter evenly. Keep for a minute or two; then turn it over and cook for another two minutes. Reduce flame and wait for a minute or so. Transfer it on a plate. You can enjoy the pancake with a sauce of your choice.

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By Ankit Chandra

Yah i think that’s what comes closest to what I have been suffering from ever since I was 5 years old… And why alluva sudden am I writing about this? Bingo! another proof that I have that disorder. ( I should call up my 10 std maths teacher to tell him that I can finally prove theorems ).

My first memory of that is when my unassuming mom sent me to the next door grocery store in Pradeep Market to get some sugar ( Umm i guess it was sugar, coz it cannot be what I think it was). Well, on the way I saw this scooter, pale green in color, which was I think a Bajaj Priya. Since obviously the color was very amusing, and it reminded me of an Italian movie I had seen then, I thought how an Italian would speak while riding his scooter in Italy… what if he actually hit an American while riding, and they get into a fight? and in this, one of my classmates (Montu Sharma) gets involved, and the Italian and American then end up beating the shit out of Montu. Yah! that way he will not find time to study and then I will come first in the class! yahoo! then I will get a prize in the school day celebration… till now I have only participated in school day in the group songs.. so totally not cool … Then when the principal would call me on to stage I can maybe kiss the school head girl! she is sooo pretty, and then even mom will not scold me for kissing her, coz I came first in the class! … then mom will send me to Pradeep Market to get that big box of crackers that I have always wanted to burst alllll by myself!! ….

umm wait… where am I? that’s when I realized that I had walked almost 1.5 kilometers and had left Pradeep Market almost 1.3 kms behind! I was very sad that I was back to square one and will not get to kiss the head girl, that I thought I almost had.. sigh…

Standard 10th. I was sent to my room to study Geography.(yawnnnn…) . anyways I open the book and begin to read.. I was looking at the map of India, and suddenly I looked at Bihar… Its structure looked like a side profile of a woman, with a pretty stylish boy cut hair style. umm something like that of my principal who was to give me the prize when I was to come first in my class… I imagined this face turning towards me and that it was the most pretty face I would have ever seen… what I saw is still etched in my head very clearly, but the trouble began after that. All I could remember from that learning session was that face. The next day in the Geography class, my lecturer walks in. Although I am very sure I am straight, and especially my lecturer was not even in my wildest imagination, someone I could fancy, but as soon as he walked in, that pretty face replaced his umm rather, umm not-so-pretty-masculine-with-moustache face… I don’t remember anything from that class… all through that class all I did was doing a lot of rather interesting things with that face .. all around some park…

Its very dark in the night in a jungle, and there are dark clouds all over the sky. A storm is impending, the tress are all dry and most of them dead. An old black crow is squeaking somewhere near. From somewhere, an innocent young girl draped in a tattered shawl is slowly, aimlessly walking through this forest. She has very recently been hurt in love. She is walking and wandering… The sky begins to thunder and lightning strikes into the forest dangerously close to her… but she doesn’t notice… A creepy shadow is following her closely. But she doesn’t notice.. she is just walking and wandering. Lost in her own thoughts…

This is picture I got in my head when I listened to the song ‘Dil cheez hai kya jaana’ by Bally Sagoo. Do this. Click on the link below and listen to this song, with ur eyes closed…

Link Click here!! 

Now you would agree with me on either that my imagination is right, or that I have that above mentioned disorder that i don’t wanna type again…

Hence Proved (Yahoo! Thankachhan Sir! R u listening ?)

psst: okay I suck at creating a horror movie scene, but in my head, it sure looks creepy