Shi-knee jerk reaction

As I watch TV right now, I’m stunned into ‘WTF’ mode once again. Only TV journalism can do that to me so quickly.

So Shiney Ahuja has been arrested for allegedly raping his maidservant who’s a minor. Two immediate reactions: What a complete ba***** if it’s true! And second: Er, his bai?? SOOO desperate??!! Anyway, whether he committed the cowardly, heinous act or not is another thing altogether. What I’m amazed at is how the media is in a frenzy everytime something like this makes headlines.

I mean, I wake up, brush my teeth, yawn, turn on TV and the bling!bling! of BREAKING NEWS jumps out at me. What’s more interesting is how the same newsflash greets me at 9pm when I return from work.

Oh, and I’m in awe of IBN-7′s editor for the following absurdity. On the channel, Mahesh Bhatt’s ‘bayaan’ goes: ‘Agar Shiney ne gunaah kiya hai, toh karawahi honi chahiye’. Please read that again, very carefully. Now, before I question my IQ level, tell me, am I missing something here? Doesn’t the karawahi or interrogation happen before he can be declared a gunaahgaar? Er, sequence reverse ho gaya ..methinks Bhatt must have had a scratching fit, while the editor was jumping to the ceiling and back in excitement which explains the typo. I’m scratching my hair out now.

Er, let me start from scratch.

Another IBN-7 khulasa flashes on my screen: ‘Shiney ne gunaah kabool kiya’…followed in the same breath by ‘Maine rape nahi kiya: Shiney’.  Brilliant.

Oh, talking of brilliance, Arnab Goswami was the (over)smartest of newscasters. I love the way, on Times Now, he asked famous personalities (who have nothing else to do but be famous) for their ‘takes on the whole issue’, and then patiently disagreed with each one. ATTACK would be a better word.

Btw, read the comments on this page: http://movies.rediff.com/report/2009/jun/15/shiney-ahuja-arrested-for-rape.htm.

One ass**** with a pea-sized brain wrote that as men can obviously have fun ‘being males’, the women in the industry are far ‘cheaper’ as they sleep around with everybody.

Where’s a Smith & Wesson when one needs it?

Aah….have to share, a friend had ‘Shiney is bai-sexual’ as his status message on Facebook, while another said ‘They maid love’. Just two bai-the-way thoughts.

PSST: In no way am I taking sides here.
Oh bullcrap – I think the asshole’s guilty.

Vote an experience.

Yeah, I voted. Like many Mumbai citizens. This is my second voting experience, btw.

My dad & I took a bus, got down near Rajhans Juice Center, bang opposite Fellowship School at Gowalia Tank (the voting venue for us…the school sillies, not the juice center). Papa walked up to some scary looking people in orange T-shirts, but the moment pops broke into Marathi, they broke into smiles and helped us with directions.

Once we were waiting in the queue in one of the four booths (incidentally, our booth had a long line, while the rest of the booths were, gulp, er, empty...just my luck), my gallopping mind decided to gallop.  Here are the loovlay (lovely) things I noticed about my immediate surroundings & my fellow SOBO gentry:

1. There were so many CEO types there with glares on inside the darn booth it wasn’t funny. One of them, with silver ironed hair (that could give Parmeshwar Godrej a complex) was wearing a cool purple Polo shirt with shorts (golf se seedha aaya vote dene…how sacrificial), and gave us a cool-as-a-cucumber stare before stalking off haughtily. Thanks buddy, for postponing the Manila vacation and sparing the time to vote! :)

2. As we inched closer to the booth, everyone’s body language started changing. Nervousness. That’s the word. 40+ somethings, shifting feet, twitching about, worried frowns. Exam hall yaad aa gaya.

3. The funniest thing was watching an oversized lady in a skirt and blouse exit the booth from the other side, with one of her arms folded, with her other hand for support, clutching the elbow. As though she just gave a blood test. She signalled to her pal with the ‘voting’ arm and sighed with relief, “Ho gaya!”. Yeah. Yay.

4. Some SOBOites were so ignorant about carrying their Voter ID with them as proof, that they created a ruckus at the booth. The voting officer must have been sorely tempted to send them home packing. I could see it: that furrowed brow, that barely controlled upper lip. The joke was when my ears caught the SOBO words, “Can I show you my credit card as proof?”

5. The bigger joke was when the frustrated officer said, “Theek hai,” just to shut the whiny little SOBO up.

6. As I studied the chart of candidates outside the booths, I was DUMBSTRUCK at the symbols used by some of our political parties. A candle? Fine.  A ****ing cooking gas cylinder?? ROFL!! When they say “Going down in flames”, this is what they mean.

Some of the other symbols:

a) A batsman near the stumps, in a pose like he’s just struck a sixer: Bouncer gaya yeh. They shouldn’t take the words cricket-crazy nation so literally.
b) A bat, a hat, a rat: Okay, kiddin abt the last one.
c) A jacket: Armani, make way on the shelf, buddy.
d) A teacup: Storm in a …….
e) A fan: following?
f) A TV: entertaining symbol, I say.
g) A cycle: Isko vote doon??? Sigh…kal.
h) A broomstick: to clean up the nation? Dimaag saaf karo.
i) A train engine: and an ugly one at that.

7. ‘I have a Mumbai number, so I’m a Mumbaikar’ went one of the Idea Cellular campaigns. Sad that so many supposed Mumbaikars WEREN”T allowed to vote as their place of origin is Kolkata, Hyderabad, Chennai. We’re so damn regional!!!

Hmm. I voted. I’m now waiting for the difference.

Anyway, enjoyed the Sugarcane juice at Rajhans afterward with Papa. And the melting hot walk back home.

‘Poli-ticks’ me off

Consider this:

1. The CM of Kerala had the audacity to not only visit shaheed NSG Major Unnikrishnan’s house after three days (to further his election publicity no doubt), BUT HE ALSO SENT SNIFF DOGS OVER FIRST, to ‘ensure that the house was safe for his arrival’. Unni’s irate father, who is still recovering from having lost his son, refused to open the door. Wot insensitive politicians we have to run the nation.

2. In response to reports about Raj Thackeray and his MNS club peeing in their pants while terrorists bombed Mumbai, Sharmila Thakeray said, “All those who have lost their lives saving the city are Marathis. MNS workers are busy donating blood, helping police in their rescue operations and lifting bodies.” WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Can they stoop any lower?? Wait ….don’t answer that.

3. Vilasrao Deshmukh and Riteiiishhhh Deshmukh ‘paid a visit’ to the Taj & the Oberoi’s, with Ram Gopal Varma (there to do research for his next film for sure) in tow. Periodically, u saw their sleepy eyes managing to show an expression or two…as they moved around, a nod here, a tsk tsk there….Thankfully, no one’s buying your sympathy trip, u jackasses. Save the election speech (and movie scripts) for later.

4. RR Patil said, bade bade deshon mein aisi CHOTI CHOTI baatein hoti rehti hain. Does he think this is a ****ing DDLJ set?????

5. Narendra Modi was among the first politicians to have encashed on the massacre, even as it was happening, using it as a platform to fire opposition. Gee, thanks. Would’ve died had you not made those profound statements.

6. Karkare, Salaskar and Kamte had worn bullet proof jackets, but the bullets went through these nevertheless. Piece of cake right, when you have bullet ‘spoof’ sweaters for jackets.

7. What is probably most disappointing is the way our very own PM handled this crisis. His statements, which ran as breaking news on channels, were so unique, thought-provoking and encouraging: ‘PM is saddened by terror attacks’ (like anyone in their right mind would be overjoyed), ‘PM promises better security’, ‘We must ensure this doesn’t happen’. A six year old can say those words in his sleep. Impressive.

We have had leaders in the past who have dirtied their hands in the muck of society to clean things up. And then, there is the present day lot which is so dirty you don’t know where they end and the muck begins.

This rage is not misdirected. It’s years of frustration, of lawlessness, of laxing attitudes, of yawning government employees, of the ‘chalta hai’ attitude, of the lobbying and false promises, that has led to this ‘Enough’ movement. With this incident, every Bombayite has something to say….something to do….we’re wide awake…dunno when we will be able to say the same thing for our leaders.

Numb

I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. Is that what they call numbness? Disorientation? Maybe both…like I said, I don’t know what to think. I just know this: Most of us are feelin the same thing. I see my expression (or the lack of it) mirrored on my sister’s face…on my friend’s face….on my colleague’s face.

The past 48 hours have been, well, TOUGH (multiply that term into a thousand) on every Mumbai citizen, not to mention the many lives across the world associated with people here. When I first heard about the grenade and gunshots by terrorists at the Taj Hotel, Oberoi’s, and all those other places, I was on my way back from covering an awards ceremony two nights back. Seems like a lifetime ago.

Didn’t know how bad it was, till I switched my TV set on. And there’s another piece of my mind to all those who think the media is a bunch of circus idiots: you’re right sometimes. And you’re right all the time if it’s India TV we’re talking of. While I like perseverance, I don’t approve of insensitivity…which is what the media resorts to sometimes….hated the way they shoved microphones up the noses of the rescued hostages. You’ve just been through the worst nightmare of your life, you come into the light, and bam! 50 people crowding you with crappy questions. Yeah, you need rescuing of a different kind then.

Having said all that, some of these TV journos who didn’t sleep for two consecutive nights risking their lives to cover the horror…. maanna padega. This is relentless determination….(bordering on peskiness when in excess, which is the microphone example). And by the way, I’m excluding the lot of journos who were crazy enough to reveal the locations of the commandos and hostages on TV….psychos. The other lot which did sensible reporting….I’ll say we’re proud of these. Be cynical and call it a TRP GRP game, but life’s not worth that risk…however, they take it anyway. Because of them we knew it was unsafe to step out. And, we now know what those butcherers look like. And terrorists ARE the incarnation of the devil…not remotely human.

Imagine if we didn’t have TV or newspapers at home…and were holed up in our houses not knowing what the hell’s goin on outside. It’s as simple as that. It’s not a pretty picture either ways. I guess you have to ask yourself the question, what sucks more: the not knowing, or knowing too much? That will decide whether u want to throttle media or accept their existence.

And to those commandos and cops who braved it out despite the obsolete equipment that the government provides them with….you are the unsung heroes who will be forgotten after some time. But up there, the all-encompassing entity knows what you have done. and what you risked for it. You will be blessed for lifetimes to come. It’s a long term plan…just like those bastard terrorists will suffer torture for an eternity…wish that could be extended some more tho.

To those politicians who made this a political saga (what’s new), three words for you guys: ROT IN HELL.

As I hear of people I directly or indirectly knew being affected by the attack….yes, there is hatred…there is rage, there is anxiety, fear, even loss coursing through my veins right now. Went to office for some time today…only to come back home because of shootout rumours. I saw my fear echoing on everyone’s face around me on the streets. Spare me the ‘spirit of mumbai’ crap. No one wants to know what a bullet through the brain feels like. Not even Ricky Martin.

Right now, problems and myriad unanswered questions are plaguing all our minds. And no…there is no easy answer….here’s hoping for that miracle that uproots those cockroach terrorists once & for all…but till then, we have to deal with the many emotions that we are being subjected to, everytime something like this happens.

Like I said to a friend after I lost my grandfather in an accident: “Some things you don’t get over. You just learn to live with it.”