And so we've moved from the embarrassment of filthy toilets and friendly mongrels with muddy paws in the Commonwealth Games (CWG) village to better, more inspiring things, whew. This is one long saga that fortunately had a happily-ever-after ending. Even so, if anyone dares to cheerfully suggest that we must make a bid to host the Olympics in India in the near future, I will promptly gag that person and ruthlessly squash him like a cockroach.
Angst in My Pants
It's been raining furiously in Delhi like never before. Even more astonishing, the Yamuna overflowed.
Whenever politicians are caught doing something wrong, they are rarely arrested. Instead, the government sternly orders a probe, hoping against hope that we (i.e.
Every time the papers and news channels excitedly announce peace talks between India and Pakistan, I shake my head sadly.
It's too hot and muggy to dwell on any subject at length. Which is why I'm merely jotting down my impressions of recent events.
Only half the year is over and I already have enough candidates for my regular annual Hall of Shame awards. Horrifying, isn't it?
Sometime last year, I got weary of reading what intellectuals and look-at-me-I'm-so-goshdarned-brilliant Booker prize winners had to say about Maoists.
To celebrate the victory of the Women's Reservation Bill in the Rajya Sabha after the violent, vociferous and hugely entertaining opposition, I've decided to write on a few of the brightest and the best female leaders we have in parliament. Why, one of them even made it to the cover of Newsweek a few years ago - yes, UP Chief Minister Mayawati is that impressive! I predict we're going to see her on the cover of another leading international magazine, Forbes, very soon - heading the list of the richest women in the world.
Rahul Gandhi’s good vibes didn’t end there. Emboldened by his success, Maharashtra Chief Minister Ashok Chavan ensured that the state government provided protection for a Bollywood film, and the Shiv Sena was left with egg on its face and bits of torn posters of My Name is Khan in its grubby hands
I woke up screaming this morning. I dreamt that I was travelling to some vague destination (you know how disjointed and blurry dreams can be) and my flight was forced to make an emergency landing in Melbourne. I had a day to kill in Australia. In my nightmare, I spent that entire day dodging nasty gangs wielding crow bars, cricket bats - the works. I pinched myself really hard several times over to reassure myself that it was just a sickening dream. As a result of which, I bruised myself so badly in the process, so now I do look like I spent quality time in Australia, after all.