Does Apple hate India?

It is often said that much like an inamorato or a paramour, you either love Apple or hate it. Renowned for its path-breaking innovations, Apple products are much desired all over the globe, from a college kid to corporate head honcho. Same is the case in India as well. Going by the strengths of all the people touting iPhones or moving around with iPads, it will be hardly surprising if we are not as obsessed with the Mac Maker as the Americans are. And yet, why do we have a feeling that the love isn’t mutual, in fact it seems more of an infatuation more than anything else.

A clear indication of this one-way street can be made from the way Apple treats the Indian market. There is an almost disdain on how and when products are launched in the market. For instance, Apple today announced that it will be shipping the new iPad2 to 25 countries mostly European nations and Mexico by March 25th. The company has also indicated that the device will debut in Hong Kong, Korea, Singapore and additional countries in April. Yet there is singular silence when it comes to talking about India.

The few Apple-branded retail outlets dotted across in India, still sport the older iPads and are completely clueless on when and how the newer one will appear. Considering that it took Apple a good ten months after the global launch to officially launch the iPad in India, Indians will have to wait for some time. Leaving the patriotic jingoism aside, the market is rife with accusation that the delay in the India launch of iPad1 is proof that Apple treats India as a market to dump its old goods. The fact that it launched the first version iPad here at a time when it was in the final stage of launching the iPad2 only strengthens the perception that the company wishes to dispose of its inventory in India. Continue reading

Rahman Paobhajiwala

Before I deliberate on the genius of Academy Award winner Allah Rakha Rahman, or popularly known as AR Rahman, let me first talk about the quintessential culinary invention of Mumbai streets, the paobhaji or the pavbhaji (if you may like). Evolved and born from the numerous by lanes of Mumbai, this delectable fare is undoubtedly the second most popular food-item, if not the first one (vada pao being a close competition). Every evening thousands of itsy-bitsy carts appear all across the city, a big oval flat-pan in the centre on which the bhaji is made. It is a staple food for most Mumbaikars who prefer it on the go. Cheap and affordable is the biggest factor that works in the favour of paobhaji, generally available under 30 rupees, it is in arguably the most common dinner dish across the city. Even so, there is no disputing how tasty the ubiquitous and humble paobhaji is. Eaten with a few paos and more that are toasted in butter, it fairly fills up the tummy and also tingles the taste buds.

Even so, anyone who makes a good paobhaji will tell you that there is no ‘good’ way of making a paobhaji; this yummy dish is more made by instinct than by design. While the elements that go into the making of paobhaji are more or less the same, yet it is the permutations and combinations between them that distinguish between a common road fare and a classy one. The basic process is to make a spicy paste of tomatoes and onion, add boiled potatoes, cauliflower and boiled peas. And then with an aid of a heavy hand-stamp sort of implement, the whole mixture needs to be crushed, evened out and left to simmer for a few minutes. Finally for garnishing add coriander and a few dollops of butter. The bhaji is served with crispy paos (cooked in butter again) and thinly sliced raw onions and a few cut pieces of lime. This is the basic model, and above that a lot of customisations can be done, for instance adding cheese, putting in dry fruits, incorporating other vegetables or spices in the same.

Yet, as mentioned earlier even though the process is fairly defined, there is not template for making a good paobhaji. The taste and the brilliance of paobhaji is largely dependent on the individual who is cooking it. The best master follow their instincts in terms of aroma, viscosity and the colour of the bhaji. At all times will they be attentive to how the bhaji is turning up and tweak and change gears accordingly, thus, if it’s turning redder, more potatoes will be added, too dry and extra water will be poured. Because of this inherent dependency of the dish on the one who is preparing it, paobhaji has not found favour with the bourgeois connoisseurs of food and largely remains a hoi polloi dish. Thus in spite of being tasty and delicious, paobhaji is not part of any cuisine; in fact it is not considered a dish at all.

AR Rahman’s music is quite akin to paobhaji and here is why. Listen to any Rahman number on a good headphone and the answer will hit you on the face like a Mohammed Ali knocker. Rahman’s music is composed of various elements, mostly done by a percussionist like Siva Mani or someone. At the very base their will be a constant bland track, say like a hum made by a train when it moves through desolate lands. Next, there will numerous sounds added over it, the bagpiper, the ghungroos, the drums, the pipes, etc. Being a techie, Rahman also used various effects like certain instruments playing on the left, while certain on the right. He also uses the maximum number of tracks in his music, a single track for each of his elements. He also does a unique transition of sound from left ear to right or the other way round. Like a master paobhaji chef, he keeps adding different bits here and there to make the music more nippy and jazzy. The songs composed by him are much sonorous, but it is most likely because of the permutations and combinations of the various elements ingrained within. In a way, his songs are more gimmicky than melody. Continue reading

Dalrymple’s Nine Lives

There is no denying the fact that Scotsman William Dalrymple is a fantastic writer. He has the inane ability to weave magic carpets and then take you along on a journey through time, be it 100 years or even a 1000. In his work, his hard work and research is reflected in the kind of details he brings forth. ‘The devil is in the details’ and Dalrymple is the indeed the devil that exults in minutiae. Over the past quarter of a century in his adopted homeland, he has worked hard not only to understand what India was, is or could be, but also has come to appreciate what it is not and does not wish to be. Through all his books, one thing is crystal clear; he loves this country truly, with all its intricacies and oddities. In fact, I have a feeling that he loves this land ‘because’ of these oddities, the fact that India does not fall into a model, a land of stark contrasts, a land where time is a just a measure, where faith and belief can literally move mountains. Dalrymple celebrates these contrasts in all his books, and 9 lives happens to be the biggest celebration thus far.

In the three earlier books that I have read, namely, City of Djins, Last Mughal and White Mughals, Dalrymple has kept himself limited to history and historical settings. Sifting through the tomes in the National Archives, he had found little pearls of information and then crafted brilliant necklaces oftales from them. He has been fairly successful in recreating the past, like a painter does. So, in the Last Mughal, we are able to understand the nuances in the court of Bahadur Shah Jafar and how he was caught up in the wave of 1857 mutiny. Or in the city of Djins, he explores Delhi like an archaeologist, uncovering layer after layer of previous cultures that lived and thrived. 9 lives is markedly different from all his previous works. It lies in a mix-match genre, part travelogue, part biographies, part historical, part non-fiction, part fiction, etc. The work does not confirm itself to a single genre, and that is its greatest strength and also the greatest weakness.

Much like the title goes, 9 lives is basically biographical sketches of 9 individuals, who are in no ways connected to each other (except for the last two). The common thread that is shared in all is that they are in pursuit of the divine through their actions or vocation and when they are not, they have full faith in the power of supplication like Rani, as one of the characters did. So, we have a sketch of a Jain Swetambar nun in Karnataka, a prostitute in the same state, a theyyam dancer in Kerala, folk-lore singer from Rajasthan, a Sufi in Pakistan, a Buddhist monk in Himachal, a Brahmin idol maker in Tamil Nadu and a tantric lady and a baul singer from Bengal. The tales of these rather esoteric individuals is what makes up 9 lives. Intermixed with all the tales, is a lot of historical and contextual perspective, so, in case of the Jain nun, one gets to know the beliefs and customs of the religion, or in case of the theyyam dancer, we are privy to the caste conflict that has been around for centuries. In Lal Paree’s story, the conflict between the two forms of Islam, the liberal and the didactic comes to fore or in the idol maker; it is the old 700 year culture trying to survive itself in the face of challenges from the computer and the Internet. Thus, each story is a khichdi of a certain time, place, or culture pegged on a central figure, who takes it forward. Dalrymple truly immerses his own self in each of these tales, so there is very little “me” here, namely, author’s bias or perspective. And yet, these stories are not without there subtle lessons or lamentations, about the way things are going or have gone. Continue reading

How I got my stolen Cellphone back?

It couldn’t have been more than 5 mins since I left the autorickshaw, when I realised my cellphone was missing. After rummaging through my belongings, I couldn’t find my hapless Micromax Q7 — hapless because it was in a pretty bad state thanks to lil’ Idhant. Since, I had left home in a tearing hurry, I couldn’t recall well whether I had carried my cell along (and thereby forgotten it in the rickshaw) or I had just forgotten to carry it at all. On calling upon my number, it just kept buzzing, so I called up wife next to check if the phone was lying around at home. On getting a negative reply, I yet again persisted in ringing up my number and my worst fears were confirmed when after a few rings more, the cell went dead. I didn’t need an Oracle to tell me that the phrase “out of coverage area”, clearly implied that someone had heard the rings and decided to silence the puny instrument for good. And the needle of suspicion pointed to the autorickshaw driver, who was the last person who had seen my cell.

For some odd reasons, I found it hard to believe that the seemingly honest bloke, who I had chatted up while 45 mins journey, would transform into an unscrupulous knave, who wouldn’t flinch from bumming a cellphone. The driver was a North Indian, or what is often called as a ‘Bhaiyya’. He was also an educated man, medium built, dressed up neatly, presenting a picture of sobriety. But, the facts on hand said otherwise. My cell had rung a few times, before it was strangulated into silence. And going by the past experiences, especially of my father, who had lost a couple many in these rickshaws, the evidence pointed to just one thing: the arseole had decided to make merry with my phone.

After muttering a few many oaths under the breath, I resigned myself to the new reality. Have to buy a new cell, need to get a duplicate SIM, etc. Yet, nothing could compensate the loss of data, namely, all the contacts on the cell and yes, the pics and videos of Idhant. It was this loss that hurt the most, and like many other people who have lost their cell, it dawned upon me that it is not the hardware that you rue, but all the soft memories inside.

Fortunately, I had backed quite a few of the pics on phone, so except for the loss of my contacts, I could live another day. Also, the fact was Micromax was a low-cost stop gap for me, till an Android Qwerty hit the market (which Motorola Charm did, just a few days earlier), hence in some weird ways I was not all that sad. Hence, over the next few days, I did indeed get the phone I desired, my old number, and life was back to normal, except for the simple fact, whenever people called up on my cell, they expected a warmer greeting like, ‘Hi Abhijeet’, or ‘Bolo Jatinder’, but since I did not have any numbers, my voice was hesitant and cold.

Also, I came to realise that it was my son who missed the phone much. He loved playing songs on it and dancing to them, since, Micromax didn’t cost the moon, I was pretty lax on him handling it (not the case with the new cell). Hence, the little guy missed his music player much more than I missed my phone. But things changed suddenly as my wife started getting strange smses at 6 in the morning. Continue reading

Number Portability from Nov 25; Should we party?

Yet again IT and Telecom minister A Raja has announced a new date of introduction of the MNP (Mobile Number Portability) facility. Accordingly, the service will be rolled out in 11 cities across the country, and the first place to have the service is Haryana. The service in the rest of the 11 cities is said to be implemented by December 20.

Now, the fabled MNP, that basically lets you retain your cell number ever as you change the mobile operators (for a fee of course) has been a hotly debated and argued subject in the Indian telecom space. According to many analysts, the introduction of MNP will truly be a game-changer. Not surprisingly then, that the status-quoist well-entrenched telecom operators, who are accustomed to adding a few million more subscribers month on month, are dragging their feet on the same.

Little wonder, we already have missed 3 deadlines for the launch of the service. MNP deadline had previously been set to December 31, 2009, then to March 31, 2010 and later to June 30, 2010. But time and again, it was found that the operators were not ready with the proper infrastructure to support this facility.

In between, PSU major BSNL, made much fanfare about its readiness and spoke about the launch on November 1, 2010. But then, that did not happen either and now we all await November 25 and the government will be coming out with detailed guidelines and advertisements on the same pretty soon.

So now that MNP is all set to be a reality, should we uncork that Champagne? Well, you could if you want to drink the Champagne, but wait a bit if you want to celebrate the coming of MNP. Remember that old adage, or rather, let me remind you of two: Many slip between the cup and the lip and the devil is in the detail. Continue reading

Apple takes a ‘bite’ at Motorola; or is it Google?

In what could be termed as upping the ante in the war for smart phone dominance, Apple, the iPhone-maker decided to sue Motorola, the Droid-maker for patent infringements. According to reports filtering in, Apple has filed a suit based on six counts with the patents it holds on “smart phones and associated software, including operating systems, user interfaces, and other application software designed for use on, and loaded onto such devices.” The move does not come as a surpise since, Motorola had filed a suit against Apple last month on 3 counts of patent infringement.

The main bone of contention is touch. Apple, not surprisingly, is fairly touchy about touch technology and now since most companies be it RIM or Blackberry or even Motorola, are coming out with phones that let users do similar and more stuff like that of iPhone, Apple is trying hard to protect it’s turf.

Over the past few quarters, Apple has made it fairly clear that it will not shy from taking a legal recourse when it comes to technology, thus, when a few months back it had sued HTC, CEO Steve Jobs had stated, “We think competition is healthy, but competitors should create their own original technology, not steal ours.” Continue reading

The making of ‘Father of Indian IT’

Fakir Chand Kohli was overwrought with uncertainties about the future. It was the early seventies and his employers, the Tatas, had asked him to take charge of their fledgling IT company, Tata Consultancy Services or TCS. Kohli had been associated with Tata Electric for over two decades and by his own admission was “a power engineer first”. Tatas were quite keen on Kohli taking charge at TCS due to his technical knack; after all he was instrumental in bringing mainframes in India around 1964 and completely computerising Tata Electric, one of the very few companies globally. Yet, he was not fully convinced.

Finally, his wife Swaran came to his aid and advised him to take up the challenge. Kohli took up the job on one condition that he could return to Tata Electric whenever he wanted to. And the rest as they say is history.

Often referred as the ‘father of Indian IT’ or the ‘Bheeshpithamha’ (grand sire), Kohli modestly states that these labels do not affect him, though he adds, “I have received lot of respect from people. What more could I have asked for?”

Early days

Born in Peshawar, British India; Kohli completed his graduation from Punjab University. His father ran a renowned department store in Peshawar. “It was one of the biggest in the country named as Kriparam Brothers”. Kohli was part of a large household and was the youngest kid, with 3 brothers and a couple of sisters.

Kohli is a voracious reader and he attributes this habit to his mother. “Though she had studied till standard 8th, she was an avid reader till her death in 1965. She used to read newspapers everyday, and regularly read fiction too. In fact, she maintained a small library that had religious as well as other books. I have inherited that trait from her,” he says.

He also doesn’t fail to add his indebtness to his elder brother, Devraj. “Due to family and personal reasons, he had to leave his education and join our family business. He never forgot that and desired his younger brother to have every opportunity that he could not. What I am today, I owe it all to him,” he says.

Kohli completed his B.A. in English (honors) and B.Sc in Applied Mathematics and Physics. But aren’t literature and applied mathematics at cross with each other? Kohli thunders, “Of course not. Isn’t a beautiful novel constructed on brilliant logic? Take the instance of Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code…it talks about symbols and aren’t symbols the crux of mathematics?,” he questions.

After his graduation, Kohli applied for a scholarship and went abroad for further studies in 1945, first to Queen’s University, Canada and then his masters in Electrical Engineering from Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), Boston. He returned to India in 1951 for good.

By that time, his family had shifted to Lucknow and he was distraught to see them reduced to such desperate level. “We had to start life all over again. It was a big shock,” he reminisces. “It was a terrible thing (partition) to happen. I just could not fathom how it all happened. We were all so good to each other, so happy,” he adds. Continue reading

The Interview

Back in 2004, I was in a bad state. After chucking the job at Financial Express, I was desperately searching for an opening. While, I was employed with an e-learning company, but it didn’t excite me much, since I wished to be in journalism. Being the first in my family to venture into the fourth estate, I was finding it hard to get a break in the mainstream media, since there was no god father to back me up and also since all of my previous stints had ended on an acrimonious note, I did not have good references either. What goes around, comes around, and I was just about realising that.

Sometime during that period, I chanced across an opening at Rediff.com. It was (and still is) one of the premier portals in India. Also, the fact that I was much addicted to it, the prospect of getting a job there excited me all the more.  There used to be an HR head, Inderjit, who spoke to me over the phone and subsequently had me interviewed by the editors there. The interview with the editors, I think, went off fabulously well. The gentlemen were pretty cool, in fact, one of them even sported a pony-tail (considering that my editor at a previous stint coerced me to snip my off, it was a big thing). We discussed many things under the sun, right from philosophy to sports and I think I had bagged the job, when they got down to the basics about the notice period and salary slips. It all ended on a high-note, so even when they stated that they will get back to me later, I was much at ease.

After a few days, I received a mail from Inderjeet, he desired a few clarifications and posed a few queries and asked me to respond to them over the mail itself. It was sort of a final interview over email. Since, I was pretty confident that I had the editors impressed, I took the test a bit lightly and answered the questions in one-go, candidly.

Post the interview, all that I got from Inderjeet’s end was static. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, and finally, I buried the last shred of hope that I carried with me. I WILL NOT BE GETTING A JOB AT REDIFF. The message was loud and clear. On introspection, I think I goofed up in the final stage. Or probably the vacancy got filled up or just disappeared.

Some days back, I chanced across the mail exchange, in which the interview was conducted. And somehow, even though I blamed my naivety for spoiling the chance, I did not feel the same about it now. The answers were honest and any one would have gauged that. I do not think that they were a reason now. Probably Inderjeet found someone better at a cheaper salary. Continue reading

Chilean Miracles: From the slopes of Andes to the mine in San Jose

Just as Florencio Avalos walked out of the Fenix, a rescue cage that brought him up some 700 metres below the earth from the San José copper-gold mine in Chile, his eagerly waiting son hugged him hard. Not only Avalos and his family, but also the Chilean population and Courtesy: AP Photo/Government of Chile, Hugo Infantethe world at large heaved a big sigh of relief. Avalos  marked the end of a 69 day wait that started when there was a collapse in the mine in which they were working in, entrapping 33 men 2300 feet below the Earth.

Entrapped in a 50 square meter shelter, the miners lived through the ordeal and worked as a cohesive group. In fact for the first 17 days, they had no contact with the outside world, and no one knew whether there were any survivors at all. Yet, under the aegis of senior and experienced miner, the rest did not lose hope and started to ration the limited food they had on hand.

On August 22, when the miners stuck a note written in a red marker to a probe, the world came to know about the survivors. And subsequently, the heaven and earth were moved, quite literally, to rescue these miners. Mining accidents are quite common in Chile, but the gods were kind on these miners and the story ended on a good note. In a strange quirk of fate, the gods were kind once more in the past, some 38 odd years ago. In fact in some strange ways, the story of the Copiapó mine rescue has an unique parallels with an event that took place 38 years back. Popularly known as the Miracle in the Andes, the accident occurred in 1972, in the the world’s longest continental mountain range, the Andes.

Back then, a win turboprop Fairchild FH-227D flying under the Uruguayan Air Force insignia, crashed in the the Andes. The plane was ferrying Old Christians Club rugby union team from Montevideo, Uruguay, to play a match in Santiago, Chile. There were 45 people on-board including players, crew and their families. After a frantic search over the arduous terrain of Andes, the search was abandoned and the passengers given up for dead. But unbeknowst to them, the plane had crash-landed and while 12 of the 45 passengers died instantly, the rest survived. But the condition of the living was worser than that of the died. Continue reading

Interview: Dave Evans (Cisco)

Sitting across the table, some 13000 kms away in San Francisco, was the man of the future, Dave Evans, chief futurist, Cisco. Through the enclosing Telepresence screen, I could almost feel the glare of his peering eyes. But then, that’s the side-effects of dealing with a futurist, who’s job profile involves looking always over the horizon. Dave is just the man for it.

The best thing about him is that he does not confine himself, solely talking about networking and hardware (which could be expected since he draws his paycheck from Cisco), but he can shed light on a variety of topics. For instance, a good 15 minutes of our time in the interaction we spent discussing how the human society will evolve, will ever have a scenario like that poignantly imagined by HG Wells in the Time Machine, a division of the human society of lazy Eloi (the haves) and the wily Morlocks (the have-nots).  Well, he charted the division from the digital divide perspective and seemed wary of how it might widen in the future.

Nonetheless, we did speak much on technology and here is what he had to say on various things.

Just one thing, don’t forget to read Dave Evans 25 top tech predictions at the end of this interaction. In fact if possible, read it first before diving into the Q&A.

In one of your prognosis, you have spoken about data explosion. How critical is the issue?

Data explosion is one of the biggest issues that will hold sway in the days to come and that is simply because we are generating information at an exponential rate. To give you an idea, the Internet in the US at 2015 will be 50 times larger than in 2006 because of the huge volumes of data uploads. Even as we talk now, the Internet is growing fantastically, savour this, everyday some 10 billion email messages are sent, close to 20 hours of video is being uploaded on YouTube every single minute. So in a way, we are drowning in this sea of data that we ourselves are creating.

This explosion has led to the realisation that data is not knowledge, and we need to be careful and not err in believing the same. The difference is essential as today companies across the world are digging deeper into the vast loads of information they have to find nuggets of consumer insights and thereby build up business. Thus, it is very critical for an enterprise to chalk out a strategy on how to deal with data explosion.

You have also spoken about instantaneous communication in the future, how will that have an impact?

In the years to come, thanks to wonders like quantum computing, etc. instantaneous communication will indeed be a reality. But even today, the world has more or less flattened when it comes to communication as the Internet has enabled communication with everyone in a matter of few seconds. The impact is huge, for instance, a few centuries back if I had to share knowledge with you, I would have to go through the arduous old trade routes and it could take anything between a few weeks to months for us to get together and exchange words. And here we are today in different part of the globes, sitting across the table and conversing in real time. This ability to share knowledge instantaneously will have a huge impact in the days to come, business models, revenue models; everything will change under its wake.

You also used the term ‘flattening’, what are the implications of the same?

Huge and we are already witnessing the impacts of the same. You see, the flattening, so as to say, has not only resulted in an agile workforce, but has also turned the world into a sort of global marketplace. So any company located anywhere in the world can sell anything to anyone located elsewhere. That’s why countries like India and China are blossoming. They are becoming tour de force vis-a-vis the US. This is a huge challenge for enterprises and even bigger opportunity for them.

Do you think the networking and communication capabilities be able to cope up with this growth? Continue reading

Encounter with the Pee-lice

It was late evening and the little shrub shrugged disenchantedly under the warm shower, much like a kid does when rudely woken up for school. After being drenched incessantly by the Westerlies, the last thing that it desired was warm water to disturb the repose. And yet, for all my concern and respect, I had little recourse but to let nature have its way — out of me. So, after dutifully ‘watering the plants’ or rather a solitary shrub on a dark sidewalk, I felt much relieved and refreshed to continue my onward journey home.

But barely, had I zipped up, a hoarse cry disturbed my nirvana. On turning around, I found out that the person hollering out was none other than a Mumbai cop, and by the way he was looking, he seemed to be a sub-inspector (had a gun holster and no Pandu cap) and yes he seemed much irate and on the verge of fuming.

Hey kay kele” he said much loudly, even though a few quick paces had brought him much closer to me than before. On seeing my bewildered look, he quickly shifted from Marathi to Hindi (to help me or chastise me). The subsequent conversation ran something like this:

Mad cop (MC): Tum idhar su su kyun kia?
Bewildered me (BM): Saab, jor se aaya tha
MC: Aur koi jagah naheen dikha
BM: Saab kidhar karta poora to road hain
MC: To kya idhar karne ka, police ka gaadi naheen dekha kya

At that point, I did remember seeing the police vehicle — the kind that was bought to fight off the Kasab-types, a heavy built Scorpio with COMBAT etched boldly — parked on the side. But then since, there seemed to be no women in there, and considering that men are often considerate on such sensitive issues, I decided to let nature have its way. I tried explaining it as deferentially as possible.

BM: Saab, dekha tha, magar bahut zor se aaya tha, aur aage sab ladies wagarah khadha tha. To out of respect idhar kia
MC: Tumko police ka respect naheen hain?

The question seemed more like an accusation, and even though the answer was fairly obvious, I continued lying through my teeth.

BM: Saab, bahut respect hain, but aap samjho na

By this time, he was in angst not only that I had peed, but also the fact that since I wasn’t conversant in Marathi, it was obvious that I was an outsider or rather a migrant. Now, now, a migrant dirtying Mumbai, no self-respecting cop can bear. So, almost sounding like Gabbar from Sholay, he pronounced. Continue reading

Of Bun Maska and History

One of my biggest regrets in life is that I am ill equipped to be a food reviewer or a connoisseur. Over the years I have been an mute outsider to discussions of whether Karims in Jama Masjid, Delhi, is the best place for kebabs or is it Bade Miyaan in Mumbai, or whether the pork chops in Goa are sumptuous or is it the momos in North East.Menu at Ideal

At most I could look on with wonder at how passionate people become when comes to discussing cuisines, I would smirk and nod my head in disbelief. It was just that I never felt like arguing or debating so valiantly over a paneer kadhai or even an aloo paratha.

The reason is quite elementary, my dear Watsons, I happen to be a vegetarian. And not the ‘vegetarian type’ of vegetarian that abound these days. To my own misfortune, I was born in a family that always looked at a rabbit as cute, while others looked at the supple meat (like in the case of a waterhole in Bangalore, where I saw a rabbit merrily hopping around, oblivious of the fact that the menu card there promoted rabbit fry).

As a kid I loved chickens and was mortified to know that people make soups out of them and horrors of horrors even drank it! As those cute-furry chicks came out of that oval egg, I could never even bring myself to even eating it and because of it I had to forsake almost all pastries, cakes, chocolates (I used to love Mars till I came to know) and what not. I was happily living this life of deprivation, and then I was married.

My better-half had quite other ideas about how to deal with chicken, goat, fish and other forms of animal life. She preferred to devour them. I’m now used to watching the relish on her face, when she dug into a Goan Prawn Curry, or bit a piece of tandoori chicken. It was then that I came to know from close quarters how mutton tastes (like soyabeen) or how it does not. I also came to know that while it might not be harder for a veggie to turn non-veggie, the versa is hard to make. Continue reading