No Flatulence Zone

Our neighbor has such important things to worry about. Pakistan Telecom Authority (PTA), the final arbiter of what is not permissible, has asked mobile phone operators to ban any text containing 1795 objectionable words. The idea presumably is to reduce spam.

Not bad. But wait. Apart from the dirty ones, several innocuous ones also feature in the ‘banned’ list. I will not talk about the foul ones (51 terms with the suffix a**), however some innocuous ones like ‘deposit, idiot, tongue, excrement’ are also off limits.

Now a patient in Islamabad cannot tell his doctor that he is suffering from ‘flatulence’. ‘Flatulence’ is a banned word and so is ‘period’. No farting in Pak.

Period.

A gutsy girl tweeted immediately after the ban.

Nida Jahen wrote: "So they're going to ban the word flatulence. Big deal! I prefer more expressive terms "thuss" and phusses any way."

Jesus! This is so funny.

Oops, sorry … you can’t type ‘Jesus Christ’.

Come to think of it, it is not a bad move. I mean with all the dirty words doing the rounds in our country, more so after Delhi Belly made it fashionable to DK Bose people; we should give it a serious thought. But damn our telecom industry! Oops ‘damn’ is banned. But our telecom industry is weathering a different storm. The neta log are busy landing in Tihar, one after the other. The way things are going, after Sukhram’s entry, a ‘Tihar telecom wing’ will have to be inaugurated by Mr Sibal.

Coming back to our neighbor, what is most intriguing is the painstaking effort, which some ingenious souls took to select the 1700 words. Hats off to their creativity and doggedness! With so much patience and effort, they could have solved several intractable global issues.

As a result you cannot call anyone in our neighborhood, ‘padosi ki aulad’ (neighbours offspring) but you can call him /her ‘kafir’(infidel).

How idiotic? Sorry, ‘idiot’ is not allowed.

I am also wondering, now that ‘butt’ has been banned, what will people call Salman Butt? Any ideas? When their constitution guarantees freedom of speech, why ban the written word? Who will control the tongue? Oops! Sorry ‘tongue’ is banned.

On a serious note, many words and phrases which Pakistan has banned were really offensive. Young girls must be relieved by this ban on abuse and offensive content. On the premise of liberty, there is too much dirt flowing around. But I am not sure whether banning is the right way to go about it.
Education is perhaps.

Kiss and Sell

Sorry guys, I am clueless. I didn’t get it. Did you?

I mean, how can Benetton sell clothes by splashing digitally morphed pictures of famous adversaries, puckering up? What is the connection between clothes, hate, Pope and Obama? Ahh..Sensationalism! Shock therapy to grab eye balls. That’s what it is. To kiss and sell.

Unless of course, Benetton is in the race for the coveted Nobel Peace Prize!! But if that were the case, a simple embrace would have done the job. It is the lip-lock which has stirred a hornets’ nest. Understandably so! So what if the religious leaders preach love? How can Pope Benedict XVI lock lips with Ahmed el Tayyeb, the Imam of al-Azhar mosque in Egypt?

Is this what the world is coming to?

Within a day, Benetton had to remove the campaign after Vatican issued stern disapproval. But the purpose was served. Benetton got what it wanted. Recognition. That the campaign propagated further hatred is another matter. Their cause was noble. To ‘un-hate.’ Just like one would unfriend a friend on Facebook.

Allessandro Benetton, the deputy Chairman of Benetton says, “Kiss is a statement of tolerating differences. There are worse things that show up on the internet these days.”

Going by that logic, some manipulated imagery can be used by Kalpana sarees or a Kalaniketan. They can put up hoardings of Madam and Maneka in a firm embrace. Or perhaps Sushma and Sonia. Imagine the sale of saris? The idea remains, to be tolerant!

With the forthcoming UP elections, Behenji and Pehelwaan can well..err..I will let your imagination do the rest. The idea remains, to be tolerant.

When love is in the air, Salman and Shahrukh can lock lips and show the world that a kiss is a statement of tolerating differences.

And if a photograph can resolve differences between Israel and Palestine, what is to stop Zardari and Dr. Singh to smooch in public and solve the intractable Kashmir imbroglio. In fact Benetton did think of the same but refrained, fearing a backlash.People are not naive enough to believe that fake bonhomie can solve problems.

Prasoon Joshi, the advertising guru thinks that Benetton has set the tone for a larger debate. The advertiser should establish a dialogue with his consumer beyond the realm of the product. Consumers can no longer be a passive audience. Fine. But in what manner should the dialogue be initiated, is the question.
On a personal note, I find the advertisement funny. But several others are offended. One has to respect cultural sensibilities. Even when money is the only moral in the marketplace.

This is not the first time Benetton has treaded an unconventional path. In 1990 they showed a young nun kissing a priest and a black stallion mounting a white horse. If prodded, Benetton is likely to say that they were statements of tolerating differences. 
So be it.
Digvijay can go smooch Anna.

Slogan Time

Fingers Crossed. Nations youth icon, who takes baby steps holding Diggys fingers has launched his election campaign in UP. Dimpled Baba’s slogan is, ‘Utho, Jaago, Badlo’. Eh? Funny him telling us! I thought we were supposed to say that to him – Utho, Jaago, Badlo.

After riding the ‘Jai Ho’ campaign in 2009, Congress realized that ‘Jai Ho’ will not work this time. But we can’t expect them to say, “Galti ho gayi maaf karo, Rahul ka raasta saaf karo.”

So the Congress slogan goes like this, “Ghar ki luti laaj ka, dum todti sans ka, patri se utre vikas ka, ab ek ek baat ka…..Jawab Hum Denge.”

Hello ji. When? Jawab kab doge?

And considering Madam's stony silence, Jawab kaun dega? Diggy? Thank you but no thank you. We do not want his pearls of wisdom. That reminds me of an interesting tweet. A signboard in a conference hall said – please keep your phone in Manmohan Singh mode.

The news is that Congress’s UP campaign will be handled by three agencies, Percept, Crayon and JWT. Why spend money on these agencies? Congress should have initiated an on-line campaign for slogans. Many jobless people like me would have happily obliged. Free of cost.
But can one do anything about creative bankruptcy in politics? Not to mention the intellectual and leadership bankruptcy. Since it is a ‘do or die’ campaign for Rahul, his guardians want to play safe. So they hired three professional agencies. Apart from Raj Babbar, who is giving creative inputs for the young scions war cry.



If others want free advice, let me take an imaginary leap here.

For the BSP however the slogan can be:
“Congress ki phat gayi. Maya behen dat gayi.”

Behenji can also say, “Tum mujhe tax do, mein tumhe haathi waale park doongi.”

The BJP however need not spend any money on campaigns. They can simply say:

“Darne ki kya baat hai, Anna hamare saath hai.”

If they really want a slogan then here it is.

“Jo UP mein aata hai, wo hi desh chalata hai’

Madam par nishana hai,

Rahul to bahana hai,

Maya ko bhagana hai,

Advani ko laana hai.”

The joke goes that when Congress says, “Hamare paas Sonia, hai, Power hai, Sibal Hai, Pranab hai…tumhaare paas kya hai?”

The BJP sniggers back, “Hamare paas Kejriwal hai.”

Oh, I completely forgot that Mulayam Singh ji is also in the fray. The pehelwaan is down but not out. He can negotiate a ministry in case of a hung parliament. And since vengeance has to be played, indignant Samajwaadi loyalists can say:

“Rahul Gandhi par Akhilesh Yadav bhari hai,

Amar Singh to chale gaye par Jaya Bachhan hamaari hai.”


The elections are three months away, but the excitement is palpable. The sad news for the voter is that they have to choose between the devil and the deep sea.

Utho, Jaago Badlo.

(The height of sycophancy:A slogan by A Congressman which was later withdrawn - Mata Bimaar, Mantrimandal lachaar, Rahul ji, netritva karo sweekar. Gosh...so much pressure on Baba)

Twattleground

The story goes like this. While visiting America, Winston Churchill attended a buffet luncheon where cold fried chicken was among the dishes served. A delighted Churchill returned for a second helping. "May I have some breast?" he politely asked. "Mr. Churchill," his hostess replied, "In this country we don’t say that, we ask for white meat or dark meat."

Churchill apologized profusely and the following morning sent the woman a magnificent orchid with an accompanying note. "I would be most obliged," it read, "if you would pin this on your white meat."

Those were Twitter-less times. Or else Churchill would have tweeted this witty note. His hostess would have tweeted back an equally interesting repartee. And while the two celebrities engaged in one-upmanship, the world would have had a tripping good time!

Twitter continues to be a tool for instant information - a tool to talk to the world.  But for celebrities it has become a prolific twattle-ground. On a personal note, I am not in favor of taking potshots in public. I simply vent my anger against establishment on my Facebook status. A few comments from friends reassure me that my anger is not misplaced. My anger stems against establishment. Against governance. Or the lack of it.  It is never personal.

Why then are celebrities clawing each other on twitter? Why has twitter become twicious and twasty? 

It all started when Modi and Tharoor engaged in a bitter twattle and ended up being vanquished by their own tweets. Then Sonam indulged in a twicious war with the writer and columnist Shobha De. I call it twicious for the comments were not merely below the belt. They were between the legs.

“Guys pls don't take Shobha De seriuosly. She's a fossil who's getting no action and going through menopause,” tweeted Sonam.

Just when I was about to send my first tweet to the world Salman Rushdie and Taslima Nasrin started micro-clawing each other on Twitter.

“Be aware of Salman Rushdie! He wants to get girls in his ‘whipped cream’ range”, tweeted Nasrin.

Rushdie tweeted back, “Somewhere in the distance I hear the envious miaow of #Taslima-Nasreen being catty about me. Tut, tut, Taslima. #Shame #Lajja.”

Needless to say that Salman Rushdie and Taslima Nasrin made a spectacle of themselves, hurling virtual twitballs at each other. But Taslima did not learn her lesson. She went ahead and tweeted about Priyanka Chopra’s father. “What an uncouth idiot man.” Why? Because senior Chopra had simply said, “Priyanka is like a son to me”. Taslima found this innocuous comment derogatory for women. The father in a fit of emotions simply praised his daughter. He perhaps did not have women’s liberation on his mind. So even if Taslima thinks his comments were derogatory, why call someone’s father - uncouth? 

Just when Chetan’s new book was about to be released, he slammed Narayan Murthy for running a body shop. It was too much of a coincidence. The timing of Chetan’s tweet smacked of cheap twensationalism.

Recently Suhel Seth was  sued by ITC for Rs 200 crore for defamation. His crime? Suhel had tweeted, “Yogi Devesh will teach the insider trading course at Tihar School of Business.” If one repeatedly bad-mouths in public, people are bound to retaliate.Also if celebrities cannot reign in their thoughts, what about lesser mortals? We live in exciting times where the tweet about Ms Sawant insuring her privates makes news.

 Like any other, twitter as a tool, has two sides. It can be used to disseminate information, to share ideas, to convey thoughts and to express angst. Flip the coin and you can engage in twattles, twensationalism or twipmanship. 

The choice is yours tweeples. Have fun. But try avoiding washing laundry in public.

Black Beauties

If you ever wanted to grasp the tenets of social science, human psychology and disaster management, without actually going to college, then all you need is a ride on Gurgaon’s blazing black beauties – the shared auto-rickshaw called ‘Vikram’. It is a gift from Italy; with love.
At the end of World War II when most Italians lacked a mode a transport, Enrico Piaggio came up with the idea of a three wheeler for commoners. In the twenty first century India, visionary Rahul Bajaj introduced the shared auto as economical means of transportation. Fret not; Gurgaon will have Pod Taxis soon. Till then it’s ‘Jai Vikram’ for the cattle class commuters.

Going by their reputation, I was repeatedly cautioned by the husband and son to stay away from a shared auto. No matter what.

Because the infernal agony of finding space in the perpetually overloaded smoke spewing monster, reminds you of the erstwhile ‘fevicol’ advertisement. “Thoda adjust karo,” slogan is an awesome metaphor the Black beauties. A student from the north-east, a laborer from the east, a techie from the south and a trader from the west; all coexist in harmony reveling in the marvel called Gurgaon.

The innards of the shared auto are a place to savor, an assortment of aromas with an eclectic conglomeration of Indian diversity on the topsy-turvy roads. Once you are settled, there is no reason to sniff disparagingly as the black beauty ferries flatulent jerks, tipsy travelers, decrepit dudes and stinking souls. All with equal felicity!

The undulating ride can be a molesters dream come true. The damned potholes provide the adrenalin surge. With the predator and the prey snugly sandwiched, the black beauty expedition is an inescapable nemesis for single working women.

Even though the antiquated black beauties are synonymous with agony, they are the preferred mode of transport as they drastically reduce commuting expenses. So what if the black beauties create a dent in the veneer of sophistication for the residents with deep pockets? They can keep their BMW’s. And their Mercs. And their chauffeurs too!

The auto drivers of ‘Vikram” are an equally condemned lot. It is said that they fleece, they cheat, they over-charge and they misbehave. In short they are alleged to be ‘Haryanavi ruffians’.

One drizzly evening, when the husband was not in town and son had vanished with the car, I had to fetch test reports from the nearby nursing home. The idea was to walk the short distance, but the drizzle came in earnest. The husbands caution, “I will get the reports on my way back, don’t venture out in the rain,” did nothing to stop me. You know what? Rain does strange things to people; it brought the teenager in me. I did exactly what I was told not to. Simply, for the heck of it! Or was the writer in me looking for some adventure? I am not sure.

To start with, flagging a shared auto on the road is an art in itself. One has to shed all inhibitions, disregard the traffic mavens, and stand in the middle of the road for effective signaling. Patience, perseverance and providence, all help.

I was fortunate enough to flag an auto. And within minutes too! After promptly seeking blessings from all the God’s in the pantheon, I jumped in. I was fortunate enough to be the lone passenger.
On that particular day however, I realized that stereotyping seriously warps our judgment. Because my auto driver refrained from ferrying any other male passenger in order to make me feel safe. On reaching destination when I realized that I was short of change, the guy sheepishly said, “koi baat nahi madam, next time,” and drove off.