I VOTED

Electronic Voting Machines (EVM) are great, but I think it's time our country's electoral process takes another giant step forward. I went to vote early morning with my voter's ID card, before going to office. Much to my horror, I found out that my name was not in the voter's list. Actually there are two lists; the guy sitting outside the booth first confirms our name and then sends us to any one of the two (in the case of my polling station) pre-assigned booths and the other counter inside the respective booth confirms our name, puts the mark on our middle finger, etc. The counter outside the booth did not have my name although I got my Voter's ID card in 1994!!! Can you believe it? Mera Bharat Mahaan!!! The lady inside either wasn't in the mood to cooperate and double-check whether my name is infact there in the second list (which I later found out that it was there infact) or it's just too cumbersome to search manually without any reference number that all voters are also assigned. So I could not vote then. 

But that is not done, isn't it? After all I am a Mumbaikar, I have witnessed people in power ruin my beautiful Mumbai over the years. Not that I ever hoped that others (apart from the independents) would have done any better. But hey, I have seen 7/11, 26/11 and lots of communal disharmony. So vote, I think, we must, because even if we think that we don't have good enough candidates and are forced to lower the bar, we must atleast set a precedent, make a statement of sorts and prove that the vote is in our hands and if we do not like incumbents for whatever reason or if we even do not like the other parties, we can still keep them out.

Fortunately, I found out that the voter's slip or whatever that little chitthi is called that some political parties drop at our houses carrying our names, addresses, booth and our individual voter numbers was lying in my house. So I came home early, collected the chitthi and went to the polling booth and voted. I must admit that I was not very happy to see the turnout at my booth this time around. I mean, I have seen much longer queues in the past. Today, it seemed like a low turnout. When I went there at about 15.00 hrs, it was a breeze; no queue, no waiting around, it was a walk-in. Good for me, but bad for democracy, but I don't mind standing the queue at all. It's fun to hear common people, young and old but especially the old, talk and discuss politics, candidates, who they are going to vote and who they feel should be kept out, etc. We need more people to turn up and vote. This report doesn't paint a good picture either. But I am glad that I voted. 

By the way, the ink was horrible this time. Not a dot this time around, it was a long line that started from my nails and went down all the way to cover 1/3rd of my finger. And I really wish the polling booth that has EVMs, are more robust instead of some cardboard-like material covering it from three sides that's not even high enough. 

Being Touristy In Delhi

Although I have been going to Delhi every year for the past three or so years, I've hardly had the chance to catch up with this beautiful city. Delhi may not be a place where I would like to settle down- in that regard it would never come close to my Bombay- but I do not mind visiting it every so often. Besides being incredibly green, it has wide and beautiful roads and

 some of the best open spaces and gardens you'll ever see in any of the congested towns across India. And with the Delhi Metro rail expanding its tentacles all over the city and even beyond, moving around the city is soon going to be a breeze. Anyways, this time around, I decided to be a little touristy. And since Lotus Temple is close to my office, I decided to stop over here. My executive chauffeur; Deepti.

Lotus Temple is a beautiful, pristine and pure white structure, a gorgeous place of worship. The beauty of New Delhi is that the city is much better planned than Bombay, if you take away large portions of South Bombay and much of Old Delhi. So any important touristy place is in the middle of a large and enclosed area and the empty space is converted into carefully manicured lawns. The temple is a large dome-like structure and looks like a lotus flower; hence the name. You form a queue to get in, listen to the importance of being there and maintaining peace inside the structure and are then allowed to go inside. The structure is made of white marble and is very peaceful inside. No idols, no nothing inside to look at, but just sit quietly on any of its numerous ans countless benches, like in Churches, and meditate or pray. Sunset is the best time to visit Lotus temple because evenings are very relaxed, calm and soothing. Besides, Lotus temple looks beautiful once the lights come on against sunset.

Then, on Sunday, I was too tired to venture anywhere out in the morning, but evening I decided to explore Lodhi Gardens. Good I did not venture out during the day time; I later heard the temperature that day was around 42 degrees! The garden is huge and spread over a large area and has multiple historical monuments housed inside. You either explore the monuments or like many Delhites take a nice, long walk in the gardens or just sit on the lawns and relax and watch the sun set and day fade away. Just looking at so much green is relaxing. Checked out the nearby India Habitat Centre and dined at the American Diner. Lovely waffles with three types of syrups, eggs, chicken sausages and chocolate mousse rounded up a relaxed and laid back Sunday.  

Dilli chalo

After being baked in Mumbai, I landed in 35 degrees C temperature Delhi that my Spicejet air hostess announced just after we landed. "...The outside temperature is 35 degrees. We thank you for travelling Spicejet and we hope to service you in future...."said the pretty voice. Little did I know that Dilli temperature would touch 40 degrees the next day!!! And speaking of airhostesses, what is the deal with their accents anyways? Especially the leading lady who makes announcements in the aircraft. Not that I pay much attention to such trivial things...but still. I mean I can understand if they speak accented English, but why do most of them speak Hindi as if they want to sound like they're talking in English? I mean English is English and Hindi is Hindi. It's as simple as that. And I do not really want to get started on the way pilots talk or make various announcements like welcoming us on board, when are we taking off, over where we are flying, thanking us for flying their airline and all that jazz. My Spicejet flight pilot was quite audible, but most of the time I do not understand what they say, can't really follow their deep breadth and heavily accented voice. I wonder whether they voices are really like that or they want to purposely sound stylish or something. They need voice training, man!

Anyways, the flight was one hour late, but the delay was due to the congestion at the Bombay airport. We started at right time 11.40 am, but it took us one hour (50 minutes to be precise) for us to hit the runway and take-off. We were around 8th ot 10th in the line and as each take-off takes approximate 3 minutes as per my pilot, we were massively delayed. But somehow we could finally take off only at 12.30 pm sharp. Add to that delay, my Spicejet airport bus that transports us from the terminal to the aircraft took us 20 agonising minutes to reach our aircraft! That's around 80% of the time it takes to reach Poona by air from Bombay!!! I don't know what the heck was wrong, but it was so painful to be jam-packed in a bus-  that was literally crawling all the way- standing. 

Since Spicejet is a budget carrier, it doesn't give us packed meals that I often so look forwrad to when travelling by air. And I usually do not believe in spending a ridiculous amount of Rs 100 for a chicken sandwich that they offier. But since the flight was delayed, I had no option since I thought I wouldn't have enough time  and I had to rush office. So I settled for a sandwich. 

The airport delay though is most shocking, not that it is new if you've travelled to and fro Bombay. India's financial capital has one of the worst airports in the country amongst metro cities in terms of airport congestion. In terms of facilities at the terminals and its aesthetics, it's great, but in terms of congestion it causes innumerable delays both while taking off and even landing. The Mumbai airport has only one runway and that is the major cause for the delay. As air-traffic increases, there is a need to have multiple runways, preferably one each for take-off and landing as is the case with many global airports in developed markets. I do not know when Mumbai will have a second airport. And not so long ago, our sarkari babus were talking of Mumbai becoming Shanghai. I can't recollect a more short-sighted statement made by our administration in recent years. 

Anyways, Delhi is very hot. The worst thing is that unlike in Mumbai, here we do not perspire. So the heat kind of remains inside us, in our heads. But there's plenty of stuff to look forward to; Khan market, Big Chill, Cheesecakes, desserts, Safdurjung Enclave- the place where I literally started my career at- Delhi Parsi rest house and my Fire-Temple in the complex, Irish Bailey's cream at Veena's house, again some more desserts, Sunita's mallu curry rice... 

Lazying Around in the Vikhroli Woods

After almost a gap of two years, I went to Vikhroli to my cousin Kashmira's house for an overnight stay. Trips to Vikhroli are always looked forward to because I am so attached to that place. Almost every week, as a child, I used to go there on Friday with Kashmira when she was a professor at Hinduja college, she used to pick me up on her way home and then Rustom- her husband- used to drop me back on Sunday evening. Apart from my neighbours, the Bhathenas and Batliwalas, her place is one where I have virtually grown up. So Vikroli has many pleasent memories for me, since Rustom has been working at Godrej for decades.

As always, one of Kashmira's strengths is her cooking. We celebrate many celebrity chefs when we go and dine in their restaurants, 5-stars, etc., but chefs like my mom, Kashmira, Hutoxi, their mom Perin Fui, my deceased aunt Hilla Fui, Viloo Mami, Havovi, Moti Mummy and many such more, are the true star-chefs to me. This particular one though, was at my exclusive service this weekend, so I had the luxury to chose the menu over the weekend. Now this is some opportunity, if you are familiar with Kashmira's cooking. I chose Mora Dal Chawal (the Parsi-style yellow plan, but thicker than the typical Hindu dal, and plain white rice) and fish patia. But I like the fiery-red patia made out of coconut, rather than the bland tomato patia, so I chose the former. Lunch at Kashmira's place is always served with plenty of hospitality, love and affection, so that makes the food taste that much better. I can go on and on about this....

After a good siesta after such a good and heavy lunch, I spent the evening pretty much at their place because we had some visitors, but I did visit my other cousin Mahiyar, my family's in-house computer expert and my chief IT consultant. Later in the week, I took one of his recommendations and implemented it. Let's see how good his recommendation really is. I think it would be.

A trip to Vikhroli is incomplete without a walk in the Godrej Hill-side (where Kashmira & Rustom live) colony. The first thing that hits you as you take a stroll in the colony is how well the Godrej family maintains its housing societies that they build for their own staff. With so much land in Vikhroli east as well as west, I feel the Godrej family is the uncrowned kings of the real estate in India, but much of their land in Vikroli seems to be used up for their staff's housing needs. I have yet to see a bigger housing colony of any company's staff. And just because these homes are meant for their staff and not for themselves doesn't mean the family has a devil-may-care attitude. Their housing colonies are very aesthetically built and maintained, homes are very carefully constructed and are very spacious. Godrej seems to know how to take care of their employees very well. And their housing colonies are also well equipped; large playgrounds, a fully functional primary and secondary school, a hospital, store, library, club with a swimming pool, restaurant and cyber cafe amidst lush and beautiful greenery, what else do you want!!!!! And the views from the colony hill-tops are fantastic; you can see Navi Mumbai from Airoli stretched to Vashi and the beautifully lit-up Vashi creek bridge. Magnificent view!

The Vagina Monologues

IT IS NOT A BAD WORD. And contrary to popular belief, it's not even a cuss word. Infact, as per the fantastic cast and crew of the phenomenal play 'The Vagina Monologues', whose 200th show I caught up with at the NCPA Mumbai, it's not even something that women should feel shy of looking at and even admiring it. That's Vagina we're talking about. But why you ask? Because it's there, stupid. It's a reality. More importantly, it's a body part and it's nature. It's a biological organ. That Vagina- or as the play also claims is called kunt, coochie-schnooker, honky-tonky, sugar-box- is a body part that women should be proud of, and what goes in there- or comes out from it- is also a woman's decision, and not anyone else's is the underlying and powerful message that this play seeks to spread.

The 200th show had special appearances by Farhan Akhtar and Zoya Akhar who read out a

beautiful poem called 'Boys are all that matter and Girls are Meant For Burning' written by Mahabano-Mody Kotwal (the co-director and producer and also actor) based on her childhood friend who suffered from dowry demands from her in-laws, followed by a dance performance by ace-choreographer Sandeep Soparkar, Jesse Randhwa and Smylie Suri based on the life of Hassina Hussein, a lively and vibrant girl whose life took a drastic turn when her boss splashed acid on her face and disfigured it and her soul, forever, because Hassina declined his advances.

After a short interval, the play started. And there was no turning back. The Vagina Monologues is no ordinary play. It might shock you, but it's not meant to churn you. Without sounding preachy, it educates you about women's freedom and the fact that she has a right to choose and to say 'No'. Fantastically performed by Mody Kotwal, Dolly Thakore, Avantika Akerkar, Sonali Sachdev and Jayati Bhatia, yesterday's show also had actor Imran Khan as one of the actors on the show; the first male actor ever on this show.

Each actor is seated in a line and is supposed to say a monologue. These monologues are a result of painstaking interviews taken by the show's original founder, the American Eves Ensler, by interviewing over 200 women all over the world and then beautifully told to the audience in the form of well-enacted and brilliantly emoted stories. Each monologue has a deep-meaning message that could keep you at the edge of your seat making you laugh at one instant, cry at the next and be shocked at the one after. Difficult to pick and choose one monologue over another, but the one with the old Parsi lady who had never looked at her vagina since the last 60-odd years and Bhatia's performance of various orgasms, stood out. So did the brilliantly-emoted monologue of a young 10-year old girl who was abused by her father's friend, but was still blamed somewhat, by her own mother. The skit 'My Short Skirt' was also very good and was a direct reference to the Marine Drive rape case that took place in 2005. The hard work and the chemistry shared by the actors on the stage shows when at the beginning of show, right after the audience is shocked, thoroughly amused and liberated- all at the same time- into saying the V-word loudly, where an act of all the five women saying a word or two in quick succession, one after the other in perfect coordination, without pause and faster than the eye can move from one actor to another, is brilliant.

I am proud to be a Mumbaikar for having being part of a city that celebrates culture, is open-minded about hosting shows of such nature and uncensored and the way it needs to be told; it reminds me that Mumbai is, after all, not just one of the most broad-minded places to live in India, but is also one of the safest places in India for women. After all, The Vagina Monologues is provocative, shocking but not erotic. It's in your face, but liberating. It's funny and serious. But at the end of it, it attempts to make you respect women, their choices, their decisions, and well, let them just 'BE'.

Picture 1: The cast and crew; from left: Sonali Sachdev, Avantika Akerkar, Mahabano Mody Kotwal, Imran Khan, Dolly Thakore and Jayati Bhatia.

Picture 2: Acid attack victim Hassina Hussein in a yellow salwar kameez in whose honour this play was dedicated to with Farhan Ahktar

Picture 3: An impromptu dance of Dolly Thakore with Sandeep Soparkar on 'Jai Ho'.

A Dose of Parsipanu

A day after celebrating Navroz (if I can call that celebrating in the first place; but I'm not sure), I finally caught up with Little Zizou. I just realised that the seating at Sterling Cineplex isn't all that great if you catch a movie in Screens 2 and 3. Screen 1 is the best and the biggest. But for the price of Rs 120, I think it's a steal and one of the best options in South Bombay. And the foodcourt downstairs is an added attraction. Besides Sterling has been one of my old favourites, so I'll continue to visit there. But if you happen to watch movies in screens 2 and 3, and find that the seats are too low and you can't watch the screen properly, do always ask for a pillow. Place it on your seat and then sit on top of it. The management has been very forward-looking I guess and may have well anticipated this problem when they modified the erstwhile single-screen theatre. Such prompt action from the management can turn a disadvantage into a great service opportunity. Good!

Coming back to Little Zizou. I have been a fan of its director Sooni Taraporewala. She is an acclaimed screen-writer, having written the screenplay for much-acclaimed movies like Salaam Bombay, Monsoon Wedding, The Namesake, etc. She is also a damm good photographer; I am the proud owner of her first coffee table book on Parsis - the story told through pictures. Little Zizou is her first film as a director. But I was a wee bit disappointed. I expected much more from Little Zizou, considering Sooni is good at films. The story was way too simplistic and much of the Parsipanu was cliche to me. I mean, how many times must I have heard this debate of conversion, pure blood, etc etc being played out. Maybe I think like this because I, too, am a Parsi. I think that is perhaps why non-Parsis liked the movie alot and Parsis loved it too because it was a movie on, well, Parsis. And despite all the Parsipanu and gheloo-gandu, I think it portrayed the funny side of Parsis, unlike 'Being Cyrus' where the lead protagonist was a negative character. I remember a lot of Parsis did not like that movie because of this. But I think production- and technicality- wise, 'Being Cyrus' was a much more superior movie than Little Zizou.

You'll draw a lot of parallels to plot-lines and sub-plots of the movie - conversion, the question of pure blood, Russians, Scandinavians, whoever running a parallel Zoroastrian movement in their countries converting into Zoroastrians and inviting wrath from conservatives in India, a community newspaper - somewhat like apru Jame-Jamshed - spitting venom at people with different ideologies than that of the paper - to some of the current happenings in the community. But where the movie fails is an absence of a strong story. Good performances and a lot of Parsipanu, though, has found many takers of this film. I too enjoy watching Parsipanu on the big screen, after having endured fake Parsipanu in much-degrading style in many Hindi Bollywood; my blood boils when I see such scenes in such atrocious Hindi movies.

But speaking of Parsipanu, I just got snubbed heavily the first thing in the morning of Navroz by someone in whose house I have virtually grown up. Why? Because I had not had a bath as yet till then. I usually wake up a little on weekends. I consider this to be very rude that people who have had their bath refuse to touch others who haven't had their bath, just so to remain pure and clean. Please! Purity in mind and speech is more important than having luxury baths and hairwashes and wearing designer labels. Isn't "good words, good thoughts, good deeds" the essence of Zoroastrianism? Then from where has this parsipanu come from?

Freedom of Choice

This is a column I recently wrote in Outlook Money 

Freedom of Choice

Variable loads will give MF investors more say, but it might be too much too soon

There’s a perennial joke I share with my neighbours, the Batliwalas, that whenever I advise them on mutual fund (MF) schemes, I don’t get any commission. Their agent gets it, the entire 2.25 per cent entry load that MFs pass on to agents as commission. And all for just providing them with the forms, or, at best, giving some advice that may not always be in their best interest. I may not get any commission, but thanks to a new proposal by the markets regulator, investors like the Batliwalas will now be able to decide how much commission their agent should get. 

After abolishing entry loads on direct investments in MFs in January 2008, the Securities and Exchange Board of India (Sebi) now wants to introduce variable entry loads. This means that investors will now decide the how much fees (0-6 per cent) they want to pay to their agents. Sebi aims to shift the pricing power from the MFs to the investor. Prima facie, this is good news. But with freedom comes responsibility. Are investors ready for this? 

The modus operandi. 

Sebi has given two options in its proposal. The first proposal says that the investor has to indicate the quantum of the load in the application form that he wishes to pay the agent, and the investor and the agent have to sign on the application form. The MF would then pay the commission to the agent out of the amount invested and issue units from the remaining balance. The other option is that the investor writes out two  separate cheques; one for the investment amount and the other for the agent’s commission that will go directly to the will give the agent’s cheque directly to the agent. 

Variable entry loads also seems to be the legalised version of rebating. Although Sebi had put a stop to this practice in 2001, it still continued. Now, instead of you paying 2.5 per cent commission to the agent and then getting him to give you a rebate, say, of 1 per cent, you will pay your agent that much less to start with. 

Which option is better? 

Of the two, the first option, in which the investor indicates the amount of load, makes sense. Already, filling out long application forms (more, if you are investing in multiple schemes) is a cumbersome exercise. Giving out two separate cheques will only add to the process. 

Lurking danger. 

Empowering the investor also comes with risks. For instance, in option two where the investor pays the agent and the fund house separately, there is a possibility of an agent misguiding the investor to give a commission that’s more than 7 per cent, the maximum entry load MFs can charge. Even 7 per cent is much higher than the present standards. Even in the first option, those investors who merely sign the application forms and leave the rest of the details to their agents to fill, will now have to ensure that the commission agreed upon jointly, is what actually goes on the form. 

What about insurance agents? 

Ultimately, no matter how many proactive steps Sebi takes to make MFs more consumer-friendly, unless similar discipline is enforced on the insurance industry, they will yield precious little. The commission of around 2.25 per cent that MFs pay brokers is dwarfed in front of the 20 per cent-plus commission that insurance agents get in the first three years of selling unit-linked insurance plans (Ulip). The insurance regulator seems to be in a coma and has taken baby steps to curb the evil. It’s not fair that of the two segments that are directly in competition for more assets, one is made to toe the line, while the other gets away with almost anything.