Category Archives: Personal
A couple of years ago, Penguin asked me to contribute a chapter on a book they were bringing out for kids giving them writing advice. The book, Get Smart—Writing Skills, is in bookstores now. I contributed a chapter with tips on writing a blog. It basically contains lessons that I’ve learnt over my five years and 7000+ posts on India Uncut—but it need not apply to anyone else. Still, in case someone finds it useful, here it is.
Writing a blog can be the most enjoyable kind of writing you do. There are no restrictions on a blogger: you can write as many or as few words as you want, and there is no one correcting or editing your writing, saying ‘write like this’ or ‘write like that’. What’s more, you can write about anything you like, and are not restricted by subject or style.
If you wish to write a blog for your own satisfaction, and don’t care about building a readership, then you don’t need to read the rest of this piece. Write whatever you feel like, and more power to you.
But if you want to be a widely-read blogger, with regular readers who take time off every day to read your blog, then you need to work hard at it. The reason for this is the nature of the medium.
When readers buy a book, they are mentally prepared to spend a large amount of time with it. When they pick up a magazine or a newspaper, they are less patient, but there is still some commitment there. When readers visit a website, on the other hand, they are probably doing many other things at the same time. They could be chatting with people, sending and receiving emails, perhaps playing a game somewhere — and other websites might also be open, in various windows or tabs. Your blog is competing with all these distractions. If your writing does not grip your readers’ attention and keep them engrossed, they will move away to something else just by clicking their mouse.
To be a successful blogger, thus, there is just one rule you need to remember: Respect your reader’s time. Any advice I can give you on writing a widely-read blog flows from that one rule.
Here are some of the things I have learnt about blogging.
KEEP IT CRISP
There is nothing as intimidating to an Internet surfer as pages and pages of text, or long, wordy paragraphs. Your friends and relatives may suffer through it, but why should a stranger? Keep your content as crisp as possible. Use the shortest, most common words possible. Use simple sentences. Make sure each sentence adds something to what you are trying to say: otherwise, cut it out.
DON’T SHOW OFF
The most common mistake an aspiring writer can make is to show off his writing skills. Do not do this. Writing is merely a means to an end: people write to tell stories, express points of view, and so on. It should be as simple as possible. If a reader actually notices your writing and says, ‘Wow, this is so well written,’ then you are not writing well. Your writing should not be the focus of the blog — what you are writing about should be. Style should be a slave to substance.
ASK YOURSELF WHY YOU ARE WRITING YOUR BLOG
Are you writing it because you are passionate about a particular subject? Do you think you have a unique take on things that you want to communicate? Do you like telling stories? If you are clear about why you are blogging, it will make you a better blogger.
WHO ARE YOU WRITING FOR?
It will help you write smoothly if you can imagine your ideal reader. Here’s a trick I use sometimes when I am stuck in the middle of writing a difficult piece: I pretend that I am sending an email to a friend. That helps me finish what I am writing without getting too stressed out about it. One can always polish the piece later.
ADD A LITTLE OF YOURSELF TO THE POST
There are millions of blogs out there, and there is only one thing unique about your blog: You. Try and add a little of yourself to every post you write. It could be a point of view; it could be an anecdote you share related to the subject of your blogging; it could even be just a wisecrack. Your blog is the one space where you can share yourself with the world—don’t hold back.
BE REGULAR—BUT DON’T FORCE YOURSELF
If you want to build an audience of regular readers, you need to blog regularly. They should keep coming back for more - and get something when they come back. Remember, even a small thought lasting one sentence is enough for a post, so don’t hold yourself back.
Equally, don’t blog just for the sake of it. If you are bored of blogging, your readers will get bored of reading you. You may force yourself to write, but your readers won’t force themselves to read. When the juices aren’t flowing, give it a rest.
DON’T BE SCARED TO TRY NEW THINGS
Want to experiment with your writing a bit? This is a good space to do so. When I was a cricket journalist, my boss once told me, ‘If in doubt, play your shots.’ I’d give you the same advice. You never know what you may find out about yourself - and trust me, any regular readers you have won’t mind.
USE PROPER ENGLISH
Contractions and short forms may be convenient when one is sending SMSs, but they should be avoided when you write a blog. I say this not because I am an old-fashioned purist, but because SMS-speak is simply harder to read. Contrast these two sentences: ‘grt meeting u, c u l8r’ and ‘Great meeting you, see you later.’ I don’t know about you, but I find that I have to pause and interpret the first sentence, and the second is easier to read. Why would you want to make your reader work harder than he needs to?
USE LINKS
The more value you will provide to your readers, the more they will come back to your blog. The greatest service you can provide to your readers is by expanding their knowledge. The easiest way to do this is by using links. The beauty of the Internet is that a single site can contain multitudes: in a single paragraph, you can put a number of useful links to the subjects you are talking about that your readers find interesting and enlightening.
Don’t worry about your readers leaving your site by clicking on a link. If they find the link to be of any value, they will automatically credit your blog for it, and come back to read your next post. But don’t overdo the links. An overuse of links leaves the page looking ugly and cluttered, and confuses the reader. Remember, respect the reader’s time.
DON’T TREAT THE READER LIKE A FOOL
Too many bloggers, drunk on the power they feel while blogging, talk down to their readers. Do not do this. Treat your readers as if they are as smart as you, if not smarter. If you have comments, don’t behave like a king granting an audience to minions. Be respectful of others’ opinions and points of view. As a friend of mine once told me, ‘Speak as if you are right; but listen as if you are wrong.’
NEVER GET PERSONAL
Inevitably, while blogging, you will enter discussions. These could be in your own comments space, or in someone else’s. Many such discussions become ugly because they get personal. While conversation is generally a win-win situation, as all parties concerned learn a little more, discussions that are personal are just the opposite - everybody feels bitter and angry, and they are a waste of time.
So what to do in a situation like that? Simply remember to focus on the argument, and not the person. Do not question his motives, his intelligence or his parentage. Just state your point of view without reference to the person you’re arguing with. Do it simply and crisply, and neutral readers will be inclined to agree with you. Even if they don’t, they will at least respect you.
DON’T BETRAY CONFIDENCES
A lot of bloggers treat blogs like personal diaries, and write about their lives. There’s nothing wrong in that. But we should remember to respect the privacy of others when we do that. Before we blog a conversation with someone, or quote from an email we received, we should take permission. If something is in a public space, like a concert we went to or a blog post we read, then we can write about it freely. But if it is private, it should stay private.
This rule doesn’t affect your readership. If you blog juicy gossip about your friends and classmates, your blog may attract a few readers. But your friends, if you have any, will be careful of what they say in your presence. You will not be trusted, and once the juicy gossip disappears, so will your readers.
DON’T CLUTTER YOUR PAGE
Writing a blog is not just about writing. When we are in a bookshop, we are always more inclined to pick up a beautiful book than an ugly one. Similarly, your blog should be clean and easy to read. Don’t clutter the sidebar with too many links or widgets, as fledgling bloggers tend to do. You or your readers won’t use most of them, and they will add clutter to the page. Link to all your friends and the blogs you like to read, but ask yourself if the other things you are adding serve a purpose. For example, some bloggers add a clock to their sidebar. When every computer displays the time anyway, this is redundant.
USE PICTURES
Whenever you can, use a picture with your post. It makes the site look colourful and vibrant. However, make sure that the picture you use is not someone else’s property. Use pictures in the public domain. If you do use a picture without being sure of whether it’s okay to use it, add a link at the end of the post acknowledging where you got the picture from. Isn’t that the minimum you would ask for if someone used pictures taken by you?
DO IT ONLY IF IT’S FUN
This is my last piece of advice, and possibly the most important one. If you don’t enjoy yourself, your readers won’t enjoy reading your blog. Blogging won’t make you a millionaire, so you should only blog if you love doing it. If it’s fun for you, then all of the above advice might be redundant, for the act of writing a blog will be its own reward. So log on and have a blast!
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Box 1—Web Design
• Do not clutter your page. Keep it clean and easy to read.
• Organize the content well. Make it easy for the reader to find anything on your site.
• Make sure your site loads quickly.
• Do not use fancy or colourful fonts. The text should be easy to read.
• Go easy on the graphics. White space is good.
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Box 2—Traffic Generation
• Write about things that interest you. If they don’t interest you, what you write on them will interest no one else.
• Join conversations on other blogs. If you add value, people will check out your blog.
• Link to bloggers you like. If they also like you, they’ll link back. This is called link karma.
• Use tags and/or categories for every post. This makes posts on any subject easier to find.
• Be topical. If you blog about a subject in the news, people are more likely to stumble upon your blog.
• Blog often. You won’t get regular readers if you blog irregularly.
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Box 3—The Secret to a Good Post
• Write about something you know. Lack of knowledge is easily exposed on the Internet.
• Write about things you feel strongly about.
• Your post should have something only you can provide, be it opinion, humour or whatever else. Otherwise why should anyone read it?
• Increase the reader’s gyan by providing relevant links.
• Be crisp. Don’t waste the reader’s time. Keep it simple.
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Box 4—Copyright Law
• Everything on the Internet is copyrighted by default. Even material without a copyright notice.
• Do not reproduce anyone’s posts in full without asking and attributing.
• Quoting people is okay. But always attribute and link back.
• For your own content, use a copyright notice. (Example: Copyright © 2009 [Your name].) Even without this, your original writing is copyrighted to you, but there’s no harm in making it explicit.
• If you don’t mind your content being used by others under certain conditions, choose a Creative Commons license that suits your purpose.
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There’s another largish box after this that speaks about the different kinds of blogs I like to read. I’ve mentioned people like Prem Panicker, Amit Agarwal, Nilanjana Roy, Sanjay Sipahimalani, Nitin Pai, Jai Arjun Singh and Chandrahas Choudhury, as well as Sepia Mutiny. I hope they are overwhelmed by an army of kiddie readers now.
Posted by Amit Varma on 20 August, 2009 in
Blogging |
Personal
Here’s Peter Roebuck talking about the three stages of a cricketer’s development—but I believe it also applies to writers:
It begins with natural ability that takes a fellow as far as it can. Then comes a period of introspection in which the complications of the game are encountered and, to a greater or lesser degree, resolved. Finally the player reaches the final stage of a hazardous journey, beyond complexity, towards full understanding. This third stage is called simplicity, but it is profundity.
The thing is, with a cricketer, it is easy to tell which stage he is at, with little scope of self-delusion. Phil Hughes and Mitchell Johnson know, from their results on the cricket field, that they need to work out a few things. But writing is a subjective matter, and many writers may not know when there are problems with their game. As a result, they’ll never then do the necessary introspection and hard work needed to take them to the next level. That is why, the most important quality for a writer is surely humility—writers must be brutal critics of their own work, and must ruthlessly employ what Ernest Hemingway called “a built-in bullshit detector.”
On the flip side, that often erodes self-belief. It’s a thin line.
Posted by Amit Varma on 07 August, 2009 in
Arts and entertainment |
Personal |
Small thoughts |
Sport
The Times of India reports:
Booze flowed free for over 100 villagers, including women, who partied hard after a truck carrying foreign liquor overturned on NH-5 in Jajpur district.
Most of the villagers, who are daily labourers, had not tasted foreign liquor and the orgy left them intoxicated. While several people skipped work the next day to sleep it off, as many as 10 villagers were admitted to a hospital after suffering severe hangovers. They were discharged after preliminary treatment.
I have no idea why ToI is describing what seems to just have been a drinking binge as an orgy—but never mind. Apparently, the truck “was loaded with 1080 cartons, each of which was packed with 750 ml bottles of whiskey and vodka.” No mixers. Imagine the fun.
I wonder if some of the people who got drunk silly actually didn’t like the booze much—so much booze is an acquired taste, after all—and forced themselves to drink because it was foreign booze, and so it must be good, and they didn’t want to waste this opportunity. I had that experience as a kid when I tasted champagne for the first time. I hated it, but was trying to psyche myself to enjoy it because it was, after all, champagne. I have also never quite developed a taste for whisky, and the expensive Scotches that my good friend Prem Panicker offers me when I’m over at his place are, well, wasted on me. All I know about single malts is that they’re not ready for commitment yet.
But anyway, what a fascinating story. And what a great premise for a novel. A truck full of foreign booze overturns in rural India. Villagers gather, much drunkenness and catharsis ensues, their lives change. If I had had unlimited time and unlimited energy, I’d certainly write this one. Such it goes.
Posted by Amit Varma on 04 August, 2009 in
India |
News |
Personal
Blogging has been rather slow here over the last few weeks, and it’s going to continue that way for a bit. For the first couple of years of India Uncut, I’d blog an average of five posts a day, and I don’t think a day went by in that time without at least one post. Then I started easing up on weekends, when traffic would dip anyway. And this year I’ve slowed down even more: it’s not unusual now for three or four days to go by without a single post, even if my average is still more than most bloggers I follow.
This month is going to be particularly slow. I’m writing something I’d like to finish within a few weeks, and want to devote all my mindspace to it, without attendant tensions of Oh, I haven’t blogged in two days, I need to put up a post, and suchlike. So I shall take it easy till August, with maybe a handful of posts every week. But then, I promise, I’ll be back to my old prolific self.
If you use an RSS reader, you can subscribe to my RSS feed. And I won’t stop completely, and there should be new posts every now and then.
Be good. ;)
Posted by Amit Varma on 09 July, 2009 in
Personal
In the course of an email discussion, Udhay points me to this superb venn diagram by Bud Caddell on the subject of success and happiness:
In the last couple of years, I’ve moved from “Learn to Say ‘No’” (journalism) to “Learn to Monetize” (writing novels)—which is problematic, because you can’t really learn to monetize in this field. Being a novelist is not like any other profession, and even publishers will tell you that they don’t really know what makes a book tick. You could write kickass books year after year and not have anyone notice; or you could be in the right time, at the right place, and be an overnight success. Unlike other professions, there’s no road map to success.
I made the choice that I did knowing the tradeoffs involved—I wouldn’t make anywhere near the kind of moolah I’d make if I stayed in journalism or went back to television; but I’d wake up every morning looking forward to getting down to work. I think that’s worth it—until my savings run out and I can’t meet the rent. Thankfully, MFS has sold well enough to ensure that won’t happen anytime soon. (15,000 copies so far, my publisher tells me, which makes it a huge bestseller by Indian standards—the benchmark for being a bestseller in India is 5000 copies.) My earnings from this don’t cover opportunity cost, of course, but they keep me afloat while I write the next one, and that gives me more joy than all the journalism I ever did.
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While on success, Udhay also points me to a lovely essay by Po Bronson on the subject. Here’s an excerpt that sums up my feelings on the subject quite exactly:
There are far too many smart, educated, talented people operating at quarter speed, unsure of their place in the world, contributing far too little to the productive engine of modern civilization. There are far too many people who look like they have their act together but have yet to make an impact. You know who you are. It comes down to a simple gut check: You either love what you do or you don’t. Period.
So do you love what you do?
Posted by Amit Varma on 19 June, 2009 in
Arts and entertainment |
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
In response to a friend’s comment on Facebook that Bengali paunches are holy, I offer you this little rhyme:
Ode to a Bengali Paunch
by Amit Varma
A Bengali paunch may be roly-poly,
But I deny rumours that it’s holy.
It is the center of base desire,
The origin of a Bong’s carnal fire.
We get turned on by mastaard feesh,
By paabda, rohu and illeesh.
Porn for you is chingri for me,
It’s divine, but not holy, you see.
Would you like a Lobongolotika?
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Also see: Farmers are Dying in Vidarbha.
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Update: Subrata Majumdar has a rejoinder:
The New Erection
by Subrata Majumdar
Would you like a lobongolotika?
Or some other form of aphro-desi-ka?
The holy paunch faces serious threats
From Gold’s Gym and such bourgeois outlets
Preserve our bhuri, we Bengalis must
A symbol of our glory, about to bite the dust
Let the paunch be the new erection
To show young bongs the right direction
I propose a paunchy statue as public art
To grace the crossing at Gariahat.
Posted by Amit Varma on 17 June, 2009 in
Arts and entertainment |
India |
Personal
Via Prem Panicker’s Twitter, I come across this marvellous news story:
Now, daring couples can bathe in bedrooms!
The story tells us about this new trend of “an open-planned bathroom-bedroom” that “features a deep-soaker bath, double vanity, frameless shower, and strategically-placed toilet—all in full sight of the king-size bed.”
I experienced something similar to this during my recent book tour. In three of the five cities I went to, I was booked into a five-star hotel chain that had rooms with varying degrees of, um, openness between the bathroom and the bedroom. In Delhi, the bathroom partition was translucent, and you could see the silhouette of the person inside. This might be considered romantic if your partner is bathing inside—but surely not for other activities. And what if there were guests in the room?
Worse, you couldn’t lock the door. And there were no hooks or rods inside to hang clothes. I suspect the designers thought of this as a feature, not a bug.
Also, there was no noise insulation whatsoever. So if you’d had rajma and rice for lunch, and went into the loo to let some of it out, anyone in the room would not only see you, they’d also hear you.
This led to an embarrassing episode on the afternoon of my Delhi launch, when my Hachette editor was hanging out with me in my room while the partner napped on the bed. But I won’t go into details here. We’re all still scarred by the incident.
The Kolkata branch of the hotel had completely transparent bathroom doors and walls—glass so clear you could walk into it—but the bathroom section could be shut off from the bedroom by sliding a substantial wooden door shut (again, unlockable). This was fairly heavy, and could easily have been used as a line of defence in a medieval fortress. I was staying alone in the room, and embarrassing moments did not arise. Also, there was no rajma, and the sushi was good.
Anyway, I guess I’m just growing old, and young people like open bathrooms and all that. Fine. Whatever. I’ll just blog about the good old days then.
Posted by Amit Varma on 04 June, 2009 in
Personal |
WTF
According to Alan Greenspan, sales of men’s underwear should go down during a recession, as “hardly anyone actually sees a guy’s undies, [so] they’re the first thing men stop buying when the economy tightens.” By this reasoning, the recession hasn’t affected me—I bought much new underwear recently.
That said, writers in India are immune from a recession—we earn nothing anyway.
(Link via email from Subrata Majumdar.)
Posted by Amit Varma on 04 June, 2009 in
Economics |
Personal
While I was on my MFS book tour, the same questions about the book and me kept cropping up in all the cities I went to, from journos and from the audiences at the launches. I thought it would make sense for IU and MFS readers if I collected some of them and answered them here as well. These frequently asked questions are collected on this page, which will be expanded as more questions come in. You can also check out my bio page, and this interview. Meanwhile, here on the IU Blog as well, here’s the first set of questions:
On Indian writing in English, and where MFS fits in
There is an unfortunate gap in India between popular fiction and literary fiction. Readers of literary fiction look down on popular fiction and think of it as infra dig; and readers of popular fiction are intimidated by literary fiction, by any indication of heft or gravitas or self-indulgence. An Amitav Ghosh reader won’t read Chetan Bhagat; and vice versa.
I’d like my work to appeal to both kinds of readers. Plenty of Japanese writers manage to bridge this gap in their country, and writers like Banana Yoshimoto, Haruki Murakami and Yoko Ogawa are both critically acclaimed as well as wildly popular. There aren’t any writers like that in India writing in English, creating compelling narratives that are both entertaining and thought-provoking. I hope to fill that space with my novels. Whether or not MFS lives up to that is for readers to judge.
On whether I am a blogger or a novelist
I’ve wanted to be a novelist all my life—since I began to read, I wanted to tell stories, and I can’t remember ever wanting to be anything else. I did various other things along the way, procrastinating furiously. In 2001, I took some time off and tried writing a book, but after 10,000 words, realised that it wasn’t working, and that I wasn’t ready for it yet, either in terms of craft or maturity. I bided my time till I was ready, and then eventually did get down to it. My Friend Sancho is my first baby-step in my career as a novelist. I don’t see myself doing anything else, ever.
Some readers of IU see me as a blogger-turned-novelist, as if I became successful as a blogger, found that I had a readership, and then decided to write a book. This couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve wanted nothing else in my life but to write novels, and blogging was just something that happened along the way.
Two of the four publishers who wanted MFS didn’t even know I blogged. The blog was irrelevant in that scheme of things, and my book found its way into the world on its own merit. I hope that is also how readers evaluate it.
On how blogging made me a better writer
I think of the facility to write as akin to a muscle. Just as working out daily in the gym increases one’s fitness, regular writing makes one a better writer. Blogging amounted to exercising my ‘writing muscle’ every day. I used to be a frequent blogger, and for much of my time as a blogger, have averaged about five posts a day. (I once put up 22 posts in a day; yes, I needed to get a life.) That’s a lot of working out.
Blogging also taught me one of the most important lessons of writing: Respect your reader’s time. When someone is online reading your blog, there are a thousand other things they can do with their time. The whole world is just a click away. If you’re self-indulgent, if you waffle, if you use 10 words where five will do, boom, they’re gone. To build a readership, you have to keep giving your readers value for their time. Blogging made my writing crisper, more economical, and less self-conscious. I’d like to think that these values reflect in the other writing I do.
On why I gave up journalism
I felt that writing a novel needed me to devote myself to the fictional world I was creating, and weekly deadlines for columns and suchlike got in the way. I had to make a choice, and so I chose to give up journalism. The process of writing MFS confirmed to me that writing fiction was my natural domain, and I don’t intend to return to journalism now.
Also, writing columns and op-eds require a different mindset from tackling literature. In opinion pieces, one is expected to pass judgments on things, to paint the world in black and white. Literature gives us more scope to acknowledge the real world’s complexities, and to explore its ambiguities. I rather prefer the latter—you won’t find me passing judgement on any of my characters in MFS, or in future books. No matter who the character is, there but for the grace of the FSM go we.
On why my blogging and journalistic concerns are not reflected in my novel
I blog a lot about economics and politics, and my columns were also on those subjects. But you will not find me talking about these subjects in MFS. Indeed, reading MFS will tell you nothing about my ideology or my political leanings, which is as it should be. Literature is about human beings, and, to use a much-abused phrase with a pomposity alert, the human condition. A book that pushes an ideology is, in my view, not literature but propaganda. You won’t find any of that coming from me.
On whether MFS is autobiographical
My Friend Sancho is not autobiographical, and Abir Ganguly isn’t me. I’ve never worked in a newsroom, or as a crime reporter, and none of the events in the book have happened to me. As a person, Abir is quite different from me, though his sense of humour is a bit like mine.
Writers are often wisely told, ‘Write about what you know.’ I’ve lived in Mumbai since 1995, and love this city and know it well, so obviously I set the novel here. And I know a fair bit about journalism as well, so that was also a natural choice for Abir. That said, Abir has no more in common with me than with any Mumbai journalist.
It could be argued, though, that the character of the lizard is based on me. To begin with, we’re both unnoticed observers of the world with an unusual perspective. And then there’s the reptilian looks. Also… ok, I’ll stop here.
On the voice of the book
The book is a first-person narrative from the point of view of Abir Ganguly, this immature, 23-year-old, smart-alecky reporter given to glib wisecracks. The voice of the book, thus, is his voice. As the story proceeds, and he is taken out of his comfort zone by his attraction to a girl he would not have noticed in normal circumstances, he changes in subtle ways, and begins to see the world slightly differently. This change in Abir is at the heart of this book—it is a coming-of-age story.
Every book has its own voice depending on what it’s about, and pov. My second novel is a third-person narrative starring an IAS officer in his late 40s living in a city in Central India, and will read quite differently.
More Q&A will follow on the FAQ page. If you have any questions of your own, send ‘em in. I can’t promise to answer all the questions I get, but will do so for any that haven’t already been addressed, and that seem to be of interest to many of my readers.
Posted by Amit Varma on 22 May, 2009 in
Blogging |
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
I’ve returned to Mumbai from the most gruelling book tour of my life, and I’m tired, tired, tired. It was fun, and I enjoyed meeting so many IU readers who have now become MFS fans, but the launches and interviews and early morning flights took their toll, as did the effort of dodging the many panties thrown at me by adoring readers. I shall, thus, resume regular blogging tomorrow.
Until then, be good. Read a book or something.
Posted by Amit Varma on 20 May, 2009 in
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
I have good news for US readers of India Uncut who have been asking how they can buy My Friend Sancho. Although the book won’t be available on Amazon for a couple of months, you can buy it from here. I am told that the price you see there is inclusive of shipping.
I’ll be publishing links to other online outlets for readers in other parts of the world as I get them. Meanwhile, MFS should now be available in bookstores across India. I love the way the book looks—Hachette has done a terrific job of the production, and I’m most pleased. Now it’s up to you to tell me if the inside lives up to the outside.
Also, do join the My Friend Sancho Facebook group. And try to make it to one of the launches.
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The Mumbai launch on Saturday was quite well attended, and it went off well. I was terribly nervous about reading from the book, but I picked a couple of sections, read them out manfully, and no one threw shoes. I also achieved my lifelong ambition of doing in a bookstore what Meg Ryan once did in a restaurant. I shall repeat that act in all my other launches, and you’re most welcome to have what I’m having.
I’m off tomorrow to Delhi, and will be travelling till the 19th for the book. But I’ll keep the blogging going. Watch this space.
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Update: Just for you, an excerpt: here is Chapter One of My Friend Sancho (pdf link).
Posted by Amit Varma on 11 May, 2009 in
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
I’m pleased to inform you that My Friend Sancho, my first novel, has started hitting the stores. We’re having a phased nationwide release, and the book should be in stores in Mumbai today (or latest tomorrow) by Saturday, and in the rest of the country before May 12. I’ll also be having launch events in five cities. All five events are open to the public, and India Uncut readers are invited to all of them. The details are below—as are links to the Facebook event pages to confirm your attendance:
Mumbai, May 9: 6 to 9pm at Crossword, Dynamix Mall, Juhu. (Basically, the Juhu PVR building.) Sonia Faleiro will be in conversation with me, and that will be followed by coffee and snacks. Here’s the Facebook page.
New Delhi, May 13: 6.30 to 9.30pm at Agni, The Park. Nilanjana S Roy will be in conversation with me—and there will be cocktails and nude belly dancers from Arabia. (Ok, no belly dancers. Sorry.) Here’s the Facebook page.
Kolkata, May 15: 6.30 to 9.30pm, Oxford Bookstore, Park Street. Anjum Katyal will be in conversation with me. Beverages and snacks will also be there, mixing discreetly with the crowd. Here’s the Facebook page.
Bangalore, May 16: 6 to 8pm, Crossword, Residency Road. Anjum Hasan will be conversation with me. Here’s the Facebook page.
Chennai, May 18: 6.30 to 9pm, Landmark Bookstore, Nungambakkam. Sharanya Manivannan will be in conversation with me. Coffee and snacks will follow, like demented stalkers. Here’s the Facebook page.
Do drop in for any or all of these events and say hello.
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Slightly disappointing news for overseas readers: Due to all kinds of complications, MFS won’t be available on Amazon etc for at least a couple of months. It’s a massive bummer for me, as many of you had written in asking when you could buy it in the US or UK. We’re hoping to fix that by July, and I’ll keep you updated.
Posted by Amit Varma on 07 May, 2009 in
Arts and entertainment |
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
On behalf of my friends over at Landmark Bookstore, I’m pleased to inform you that the Landmark Quiz makes its first appearance in Mumbai this year. It’s already an annual event in Chennai, Bangalore and Pune, and Mumbai’s quizzers have long awaited its arrival here. Well, here it is. The details:
Quizmaster: Navin Jayakumar
Date: May 1, 2009
Venue: St Andrew’s Auditorium, St Dominic Road, Bandra.
Head over to your nearest Landmark outlet to register. Navin is an excellent quizmaster, and his quizzes are invariably fun for the audience, not just the teams on stage.
My team, Jai Santosh Ki Maa, reached the final of the Pune Landmark quiz a few weeks ago, and we’ll be hoping for better on home ground. Come and give competition.
Also read: Quizzing is Not Just a Trivial Pursuit.
Posted by Amit Varma on 28 April, 2009 in
Miscellaneous |
Personal
... that when I heat food in my microwave, it comes out colder.
Well, okay, I exaggerate. But really, between the heat and the mosquitoes, I have enough suffering in my life to be a true artist. Who needs an attic?
Posted by Amit Varma on 23 April, 2009 in
Personal
I was most surprised at my inclusion in Business Week’s list of India’s 50 Most Powerful People, but I was as surprised by the huge number of people congratulating me. Firstly, most of them surely know that I am, actually, not very powerful at all. (One of them started laughing today when I told him the news. Quite.) Secondly, even if my inclusion on the list was to somehow make me magically powerful, is that something that calls for congratulations?
Look at it this way. Power really amounts to two things:
One, it is a byproduct of other achievements, such as earning much money or winning an election, in which case surely those achievements deserve congratulations, and not the mere declaration of power.
Two, it is a means to an end, and enables us to do worthy things. In that case, the congratulations should be for those worthy things, not for the power itself.
I was delighted at my inclusion on the list because I saw it as a validation of the blogging and writing I’ve done over the last few years. But so is the time that all my readers spend on reading India Uncut—indeed, the very fact that you are reading this right now. One of those is indispensable to me—so if you must congratulate me for something, congratulate me for the fact that you are reading me.
That shifts the burden of immodesty on you, so I can relax now. Thank you.
Posted by Amit Varma on 20 April, 2009 in
Personal |
Small thoughts
Business Week has just come out with a feature entitled “India’s 50 Most Powerful People 2009”. India Uncut readers will be pleased to know that I’m on that list. I come between Sachin Tendulkar and Lalu Prasad Yadav, and am not quite sure how to respond to that honour. What have I done to deserve this?
I was quite surprised, and much delighted, when I heard that I was on the list. I’m not sure I deserve to be there, but I guess my inclusion is Business Week‘s nod to the potential that blogs have for shaping public opinion, as also to the power of words in general—my columns for Mint, and otherwise, have been cited as a reason for my inclusion. I get quite cynical sometimes about the alleged power of words, and it’s nice to see that others are more optimistic. I hope they’re right.
This immense honour means that now I have to display gravitas and responsibility, and blog about serious matters that affect the nation. No more cows, no more WTFness, no more sex, no more imaginary dialogue. I’m going to be a full-on pundit now.
Ok, chill, I’m not.
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In case you’re wondering why I come so far down the list, it’s because it is displayed by alphabetical order of last name. Heh.
*
And just take a look at Lalu’s magnificent ear hair. I don’t like his politics, but man, he is one stud machine, he is. No?
Posted by Amit Varma on 18 April, 2009 in
Blogging |
India |
Journalism |
Media |
News |
Personal
The launch dates for my first novel, My Friend Sancho, have been finalized, and I’m pleased to share them with you now. I had earlier mentioned that the book would be out by the middle of April, but we had to delay that just a bit, and it will now be in bookstores across India in the first week of May. The launch dates:
Mumbai: May 9, Crossword, Kemp’s Corner.
Delhi: May 13, Agni, The Park
Kolkata: May 14 or 15, Oxford Book Store
Bangalore: May 16, Crossword
Chennai: May 18, Landmark
I’ll confirm all these details closer to the dates. Barring Delhi, all the other events are open, and India Uncut readers are invited to come and throw tomatoes. I’ll be in conversation with Sonia Faleiro at the Mumbai event, and with Nilanjana S Roy in Delhi. We haven’t yet finalized the details of the other events, so watch this space.
Posted by Amit Varma on 14 April, 2009 in
Arts and entertainment |
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
A few months ago, I tried out a program that guessed one’s gender by analyzing one’s browsing history—it found that I was 97% male. An earlier test had unequivocally declared me to be male as well. So imagine my surprise today when I try out a test that identifies your gender by analyzing your blog—I got the following result:
The 100% probability is what takes me by surprise. There isn’t the slightest chance, this program is saying, that I could be a man.
I can react to this in two ways: One, I can go out and pick a fight with someone just to assuage my male ego. Two, I can sit back and pamper myself.
The first option is dangerous, because I’m not much a fighter, with my half-Bong side dominant over the half-Punju in this aspect. I might just get the worse of a brawl, and that won’t help me much. So that leaves option two.
Where are those cucumbers I was going to put on my face?
Posted by Amit Varma on 18 February, 2009 in
Personal |
WTF
I’m delighted to announce the result of the cover design competition for my first novel, My Friend Sancho. We received so many fabulous designs that it took us a while just to look at them all carefully, process them, and make a shortlist after considering all the parameters. Hachette India, my publishers, were awed by the range of designs we had to choose from—and I am deeply grateful that so many people chose to take part.
After much debate, we have a winner. Prem Kishore of Hungry & Foolish Creative Products walks away with Rs. 15,000 worth of Hachette India books. Here is his design (click on the image below for a larger image):
There will be minor tweaks, of course, and the text and photograph at the back are dummy, just for the purposes of designing. But here it is.
Of all the other designers, I’d also like to mention Manish Sahu, a designer from Nagpur who also writes a pretty neat blog. Manish entered designs like Virender Sehwag hits boundaries, and more than half the shortlisted designs were by this one dude. My publishers and I felt awful that after all that work, he didn’t win, so we will send him a special Hachette hamper—and I’m certain he’s going to design many covers for many lucky writers. A couple of his designs, and other special mentions, below the fold:
Read more...
Posted by Amit Varma on 03 February, 2009 in
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
I really should have blogged about this earlier, but it’s never too late. A superb show of oil-on-canvas paintings by Sonatina Mendes gets over tomorrow today in Mumbai, and if you have the time and are in the vicinity, I recommend you check it out. The partner has curated this show, and while I don’t understand modern art too much, I love Sonatina’s work. I find her paintings moving and powerful; they don’t scream out with anxiety like the work of so many painters of her generation, but draw you in gently. Examples:
House in Nowhere
(more below the fold)
Read more...
Posted by Amit Varma on 30 January, 2009 in
Arts and entertainment |
Personal
Responding to my post yesterday in which I’d spoken of “the enormity of what [Chetan] Bhagat has achieved,” reader Mohan writes in:
I have been told numerous times that ‘enormity’ must not be used in the sense of ‘enormousness’, and that it is closer to ‘an outrageous, improper, vicious, or immoral act’. Is this general language Nazism, or is there something to this?
Of course, if you meant it as a subtle hint that Mr Bhagat’s doings were really wicked, I’m completely wrong!
Um, no such hint was intended, and I’m sure Mr Bhagat is not a wicked man. And I stand by my use of ‘enormity’. Merriam-Webster offers us four definitions of the word, of which the last two are:
3: the quality or state of being huge : immensity [the inconceivable enormity of the universe]
4: a quality of momentous importance or impact [the enormity of the decision]
These are definitions that have existed for very long, and, from what I can gather, are far more common in usage than the ‘wicked’ meanings of the word. That said, Eugene Volokh cautions against using ‘enormity’ because people may assume you mean “wicked” when you mean “enormous”. Fair advice.
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I’ve written about language snobbery before, so in that context, let me reiterate that language is an evolving thing, and it is dangerous to get stuck to a fixed notion of what words mean, or what kind of usage is acceptable. In a discussion I was part of in an email group in December, a lady protested at the use of ‘decimate’ to mean ‘wipe out a large proportion of’, when, as she explained, the original meaning was ‘kill one in every ten’. The original meanings of words interest me greatly, and they’re useful in quizzes, but when I am actually speaking or writing, I don’t care what a word originally meant. What matters is how the word is used today. And here are accepted definitions of ‘decimate’:
Merriam-Webster—3a to reduce drastically especially in number [cholera decimated the population] b: to cause great destruction or harm to [firebombs decimated the city] [an industry decimated by recession]
WordNet: eliminate, annihilate, extinguish, eradicate, wipe out, decimate, carry off (kill in large numbers); “the plague wiped out an entire population”
There are hazaar words like this, that meant one thing in the 19th century and mean something else today. Which sense would you rather use them in?
(Volokh link via email from Tejaswi.)
Posted by Amit Varma on 30 January, 2009 in
Miscellaneous |
Personal
I just watched Slumdog Millionaire and enjoyed it thoroughly. It’s an entertaining yarn, and really should be seen only from that prism. It rocks in the way a good pulp bestseller rocks, with a propulsive storyline that keeps you hooked, and requires a suspension of disbelief. To judge it by the standards of high art, and declare it a failure on grounds of plausibility or authenticity, is, in my book, a category error. It’s an airport paperback, not a Booker nominee.
Also, I’m a fan of AR Rahman, and to see him get such attention is wonderful. I hope he wins at least one Oscar, and foreign listeners seek out his Indian work because of that.
Now, here’s a question: If this film was made by a local director and not by a Western biggie, would our reaction to the film have been the same? Would we have so readily forgiven the clichés and other lapses of this film? Or would we have said, Saala, b*st*rd’s making a movie for the foreign audience. Sellout. Would we have been jealous of its achievement, or less forgiving of its flaws? Would we have liked the film more or less if Sunil Tandon of Juhu had directed this film instead of Danny Boyle of Lancashire?
That’s a question, not an accusation. I think I would have viewed the film differently if that were so—and I’m slightly perturbed by that.
Posted by Amit Varma on 23 January, 2009 in
Arts and entertainment |
India |
Personal |
Small thoughts
... aren’t yet ready, and will be announced later. Many outstanding entries poured in after we announced the contest, and while I promised to announce the results earlier this week, we simply haven’t managed to pick one of them yet. The delay is not Hachette’s, but mine—I haven’t been able to make up my mind on this, and I apologize to all the contestants for keeping them waiting. This is my first novel, and its cover is a big, big deal for me, and I want to be absolutely sure before we pick one. So we’re still tweaking the entries in small ways, printing them out, seeing them from a distance, holding them up close—all of that stuff. To all the contestants—thank you for entering, and thank you for your patience.
Also, Hachette would like to send each of the entrants a token of appreciation, but hasn’t been able to get in touch with all of them—mails bouncing back etc. If you sent in a design, please write to with your postal address. Thank you.
As to when the results will be announced, well, the book’s out in April and the cover has to be finalized by early February. So that’s the absolute latest we’ll take to decide—though we’ll try our best not to leave it so late.
Posted by Amit Varma on 22 January, 2009 in
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
The WTF quote of the day comes from Akshay Kumar:
I’m a Punjabi. I’m not embarrassed. I can take my shirt off.
I’m half Punjabi, so, inspired by this, I shall now step out for lunch with my buttons open.
Er, wait, I’m also half-Bengali, and there are paunch issues. Hmm.
Posted by Amit Varma on 15 January, 2009 in
Arts and entertainment |
News |
Personal |
WTF
India Uncut finished second in the Best Asian Blog category in the 2008 Weblog Awards. We lost by just under 300 votes, and got more than 3000. I’m very touched that so many votes were cast on this blog’s behalf, so thank you for that. While I shall continue to blog regularly, so as to be in your good books, I am relieved that I do not have to honour any of my pre-poll promises now. So no, I will not post a video of my sensuous belly dance anytime soon.
Also, my congratulations to the winner Ashin Mettacara, a Buddhist monk from Burma who has been speaking out for free speech for a while. On his blog, he says, “Today we show the world our unity, and we get the power to restore democracy and human rights in Burma.” I wish him all the best in this cause. My getting the award would not have benefited India in any way—though you would have gotten that belly dance—so it’s best that Ashin won.
Posted by Amit Varma on 15 January, 2009 in
Personal
AFP reports:
Open-plan offices are making people sick, with workers more likely to suffer stress, catch a cold and be less productive, Australian researchers have found.
A review of global studies into the impact of modern office design found the switch to open-plan spaces had been overwhelmingly negative, with 90 percent reporting adverse health and psychological effects.
High levels of stress and conflict, elevated blood pressure, and rapid staff turnover were associated with open-plan environments, according to review author Vinesh Oommen.
Well, after a decade, I stand vindicated. I worked in MTV for a couple of years in the last millennium, and they had an open office back then. The then-MD, who was wearing shorts and fluorescent green socks when he interviewed me for the job in 1997, thought that open-plan offices were ‘cool’ and ‘modern’, and that he was being ‘with it’. He himself sat at one end of it, his ghastly socks visible to half his co-workers through the day. I argued against it once, and he gave me spiel on ‘productivity’.
I found it hard to function like that. I’d be hard at work and some joker’s cell phone would ring loudly across the hall again and again while he swigged free Coke at the pantry. All day long there would be chatter buzzing through the air, and people shouting at each other across the hall, Has Malaika’s bustier arrived yet?, and suchlike. And every time I reached up to dig my nose sensuously, 40 chicas would look at me in horror, suddenly disillusioned with the concept of the ideal male.
It was hard to concentrate on anything; and distractions abounded. A study a couple of years ago showed a correlation between open-plan offices and longer working hours—but that has nothing to do with productivity. (We did work all night often in MTV, but that is because there was a pool table in the conference room, and we took our pool seriously.)
Thankfully, I work from home now. Unfortunately, I don’t have a pool table in the living room. Tradeoffs, tradeoffs—but I’m happier than I’ve ever been at work.
Posted by Amit Varma on 14 January, 2009 in
Miscellaneous |
Personal
Choosing what to wear is not such an easy matter, though.
The contest to design the cover for my first novel, “My Friend, Sancho”, is now over. To all those who entered, from me and Hachette India, Thank You!
We’ve been overwhelmed by the designs—not just the number of entries that came in, but the quality. As my editor at Hachette remarked, “Never has any book had so many great covers to choose from.” We’re trying to make a shortlist right now, and expect to announce a winner on Monday, January 19.
That said, announcing a winner will be heartbreaking, because so many of the covers are so good in different ways. Many factors go into choosing a cover: the subjective tastes of the people involved; inputs from production on how something that looks good on the screen will look as a book; the scope for effects such as, in my publisher’s words, “embossing, holographic stuff, texture, foiling, UV, etc”; inputs from sales on what will actually work in the marketplace. There are trade-offs involved: one cover may look beautiful and have just the right feel, but may have nothing to do with the book conceptually; another may be bang on in terms of suiting the book, and may not be the kind of cover that stands out from a distance in a book shop. It’s all very complicated.
For this reason, Hachette has decided that while it can choose just one cover and award just one prize, every single entrant will get a token of appreciation. If you entered a design, expect to hear from Hachette soon.
Meanwhile, I’m off to my ‘cover designs’ folder to get bewildered and overwhelmed. Thanks again!
Posted by Amit Varma on 13 January, 2009 in
Arts and entertainment |
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
The Weblog Awards, where India Uncut has been nominated for Best Asian Blog, is on for two more days. With readers allowed to vote once every 24 hours, that means you have two votes left, should you wish to bring home this award. So:
Vote now!
Regular voters would no doubt have noted that the healthy lead I’ve held from the start has now vanished. The manner in which this has happened—most of it disappeared in a two-hour spell a few hours ago—is befuddling, and Deepak Iyer points me to this message board entry that might provide some clues. I have no idea if cheating is actually going on, and will not make that assumption about anyone unless proof is there. That said, I am also taking the numbers up there right now with a pinch of salt.
In previous years, the organisers of the awards have apparently looked at voting logs and removed all fraudulent votes. In case someone has been up to some mischief, I presume that will happen again—a massive bank of votes from the same IP, for example, would be hard to ignore. So I’d recommend that you keep on voting in good faith, and ignore the numbers until they are ratified. And even if you figure out how to cheat—I was tipped off about it, and it works—please do not resort to any such methods. If we don’t win this fair and square, playing by the rules of the game, we don’t want this.
Thank You!
Posted by Amit Varma on 12 January, 2009 in
Personal
Whenever I am asked what my favourite films are, I think first of The Decalogue—even though it is not one film, but a set of ten short films. But what cinema! I like it more than anything else by Krzysztof Kieslowski—and I love the Three Colours trilogy—and revisit an episode from time to time when I have just an hour to spare, and am in the mood for something sublime.
A couple of days ago a friend came visiting, and she hadn’t seen The Decalogue before. So I popped in the DVD and we watched the first episode. I must have seen it four or five times before, but every time I enjoy it as much. Having seen it, we headed off to Borivali, from where she had to catch a train to Baroda. I had estimated that an hour and a quarter of travelling time would be enough to get there at that time of the night (from Andheri)—but hadn’t taken the petrol strike into account. Naturally, there were no autos on the road, just people everywhere trying to flag them down. Oops.
We got there in the end, thanks to my legendary resourcefulness—but had we missed it, the film would have seemed ironic in that context. If you’ve seen it, you know what I mean.
And so it’s apt that I should come across this today:
The Financial Modelers’ Hippocratic Oath
by Emanuel Derman and Paul Wilmott
~ I will remember that I didn’t make the world, and it doesn’t satisfy my equations.
~ Though I will use models boldly to estimate value, I will not be overly impressed by mathematics.
~ I will never sacrifice reality for elegance without explaining why I have done so.
~ Nor will I give the people who use my model false comfort about its accuracy. Instead, I will make explicit its assumptions and oversights.
~ I understand that my work may have enormous effects on society and the economy, many of them beyond my comprehension.
You can read their full manifesto here. (Thanks, Mohit Satyanand, for the link.)
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My statistical analysis of the Best Asian Blog category in the 2008 Weblog Awards indicates that if the trend of the last 12 hours continues, India Uncut might end up in second place. My once-healthy lead is being eaten into rapidly. The competition is on for three more days, and people are allowed to vote once every 24 hours per computer they have access to, so vote now (and again tomorrow, etc) and change the basis of my analysis. Thank you!
Posted by Amit Varma on 10 January, 2009 in
Arts and entertainment |
Economics |
Personal
Prem Panicker, via his Twitter feed, introduces us to the word of the day:
Procrasturbate: To put off tasks & duties in place of one’s own pleasure.
I wonder: If you take pleasure in procrasturbating, could it be said that you are masturcrastinating?
Anyway, please don’t procrastinate about voting for India Uncut in the Weblog Awards. People are allowed to vote once every 24 hours, voting is open till January 13, and my competition is formidable…
Posted by Amit Varma on 08 January, 2009 in
Arts and entertainment |
Miscellaneous |
Personal
A reminder to my readers: the contest to design the cover for my first novel, My Friend, Sancho, is on until January 12. That leaves five days for you to enter. So do send in your designs if you’d like to participate—and tell your designer friends about it, in case they’re interested.
Some excellent designs have already come in, and I’ll showcase a whole bunch of covers that I liked on this blog when the contest is over. Sadly, we can only pick one winner—maybe that’s the one inside your head? Send it in!
PS: Also, if you enjoy reading India Uncut, do remember to vote for it in the Best Asian Blog category of the 2008 Weblog Awards? Readers are allowed to vote once every 24 hours, and the competition is tough. Voting is easy, and just requires a single click—so head on over!
Posted by Amit Varma on 07 January, 2009 in
Arts and entertainment |
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
I’m pleased to inform you that India Uncut has been nominated in two categories at the 2008 Weblog Awards:
Best Asian Blog.
Best Political Coverage.
As far as I can tell, it is the only blog written out of India to be nominated in any category. It is also one of a handful of blogs nominated in more than one category. And will it win a prize? That’s in your hands, kind reader.
Wins are decided by voting, and readers are allowed to vote once every 24 hours, so if you enjoy reading India Uncut, go forth and vote. The category I have great hopes of is Best Asian Blog, so do vote there wholeheartedly. I’m most unlikely to win Best Political Coverage, where giants like Daily Kos, Townhall and Politico have also been nominated, but hell, we’re the world’s largest democracy, we know how to vote, so do vote there as well.
Interestingly, I seem to be the only nominee in that category writing about non-American politics, so I guess that’s an honour in itself. My posts on politics are here.
Posted by Amit Varma on 06 January, 2009 in
Blogging |
Personal
Why sack them when you can use them for fuel?
(Second link via email from Udhay. And no, I’m not making fun of overweight people, but being, in a way, self-deprecatory. Much exercise is needed...)
Posted by Amit Varma on 05 January, 2009 in
India |
News |
Personal
Stanley Fish tells us about how he called up AT&T to activate some services, and got the greeting above. At the end of the conversation:
… I couldn’t resist returning to the greeting, with its double and ungrammatical “with.” I explained that the second “with” was superfluous, as the second “to” would be if the offending question had been, “to whom am I speaking to?”, or the second “about” if the question had been “about what are you worrying about?”
Somehow that didn’t make much of an impression on her. She said that her instructions were to greet callers in that way and that she would continue to do so. I replied that it was scandalous that a multi-billion-dollar world-wide telecommunication corporation would order its employees to commit an egregious (and comical) grammatical error millions of times a day.
She said, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
I lost it. It has nothing to do with feelings, I ranted. It is a factual matter as to what is and is not syntactically correct.
Delightfully anal—and like so many interactions with call-center employees, completely futile. But Fish did get a column out of it, and that’s good.
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Language snobbery can be immense fun, but it can also get tiresome to those on the receiving end of it. I recently wrote to a friend of mine, “Hopefully the publishing industry [in India] won’t be too badly affected by the economic downturn.” He wrote back to berate me for using “hopefully” instead of “I hope”, and said, “People should not say ‘Hopefully the weather will be good today’ when they actually mean ‘I hope the weather will be good today.’ I expected better from a professional writer.”
Well, I expected better from a language snob. This is actually a fashionable complaint, but an entirely baseless one. It cropped up in another discussion I was part of in an email group a couple of weeks ago, and I settled the matter by citing Merriam-Webster’s definition of the word:
2 : it is hoped : I hope : we hope <hopefully the rain will end soon>
usage In the 1960s the second sense of hopefully, which dates to the early 18th century and had been in fairly widespread use since at least the 1930s, underwent a surge in popularity. A surge of criticism followed in reaction, but the criticism took no account of the grammar of adverbs. Hopefully in its second sense is a member of a class of adverbs known as disjuncts. Disjuncts serve as a means by which the author or speaker can comment directly to the reader or hearer usually on the content of the sentence to which they are attached. Many other adverbs (as interestingly, frankly, clearly, luckily, unfortunately) are similarly used; most are so ordinary as to excite no comment or interest whatsoever. The second sense of hopefully is entirely standard.
So there it is. Hopefully you won’t ever try to explain to an AT&T call center worker what a disjunct is. Ok?
Posted by Amit Varma on 04 January, 2009 in
Miscellaneous |
Personal
Yes, that’s right: 2008. There are still three days left in the year, and I’m not rushing to think of the new year yet. One day at a time. Let’s enjoy the 29th. Then the 30th. And then, though it lies well in the future, the 31st.
When that’s done and dusted, we’ll think of what’s to come.
What I mean to say, in this atypically roundabout manner, is that I’m taking a break and going traveling in the next three days, and no blogging will be done in this time. I have done less blogging this month than I do in an average week, so perhaps that hardly requires notice. But I shall be back to my furious best next month, posting 184 times a day as the nation stays glued to my thoughts, and the 24-hour news channels compete to cover my life, some even plotting to get me into a well somehow.
But all that’s in the future. Meanwhile, you have fun. Be as debauched as you want; hold nothing back. This is your last chance to show 2008, which has inflicted downturns and terrorist attacks and Ghajini on you, who’s really in charge.
Posted by Amit Varma on 29 December, 2008 in
Personal
As you know, my first novel “My Friend, Sancho” will be published by Hachette India in April 2009, and we’re getting it all together right now in terms of a final edit and production details. One of the areas I’m keen to get right is cover design. My publishers and I both felt that we needed a design that was different from the kind we see in our bookstores these days, and we thought of opening it up to a much larger pool of people than a publisher would usually have access to. And so, with the imagined sound of trumpets and applause in the background, Hachette India and India Uncut bring you:
The “My Friend, Sancho” Cover Design Competition
This is how it works: in the next few paragraphs, I shall share a synopsis of the book, and link to an excerpt that gives you a sense of the voice of the main character in the book. I shall also attach Hachette’s official design brief for the book. Based on that, you are invited to send in a cover design, or many if you want, for the book. If we choose to use one of them, you get Rs. 15,000 worth of Hachette books and cover credit.
(You may not have heard of Hachette before, but you would certainly have heard of many of the imprints it owns, such as Hodder, Orion, Octopus, Hamlyn, Little, Brown & Company, and Orbit. It’s the largest general books publisher in the UK, the second largest publisher in the world, and had more books in the New York Times bestseller list last year than any other publisher—so there’ll be much to choose from. Hachette has just launched in India, and “MFS” will be the first release of their local list. So if you win the prize, you will be bewildered by the choice of books available in their catalogues here.)
In case Hachette is unable to use any of the covers submitted, the first prize will not be awarded—but we will pick the design we like the most and award the designer Rs. 5000 worth of Hachette books, plus empanelment on Hachette’s roster of preferred designers. I’m hoping this doesn’t happen, and some kickass designs come in. Needless to say, I will carry all the designs I like on India Uncut, and link to the designer’s homepage wherever relevant.
And now, about the book: “My Friend, Sancho” is a love story set in Mumbai. Abir Ganguly, the protagonist, is a 23-year-old, cynical, wise-cracking journalist on the crime beat of a newspaper. He is asked by his editor to do a feature story on Mohammad Iqbal, a man killed in a police encounter. As research for the story, he meets Iqbal’s daughter, Muneeza. An unlikely friendship forms between them, but before it can become anything more, certain matters need closure.
The first chapter of the book is here (pdf link). It will give you a sense of the tone of the book, and the voice of the character. But the book develops into a love story, not the gritty thriller you might expect from that chapter.
My own brief: The cover I’m looking for should be one that reflects the playful, young tone of the book. It should attract attention from a distance without being loud or gaudy. It should be classy, so when you hold it, you feel like taking it home with you. It should be minimal—I hate clutter, and there shouldn’t be too many elements in there.
What images from the book can you use? Well, Abir and Muneeza have black coffee and iced tea together a couple of times, and those are possible images. They meet at the food court of a mall a few times—but I don’t fancy either of them being represented on the cover. There is also a talking lizard in the book, and he could make an appearance somewhere, perhaps curling onto the spine. Feel free to use something abstract—for now, I’m more interested in the feel being right than the image being representative.
Important point: This might be the first of a series of books, so you could begin with a design template that can be extended onto future books. One example in Indian bookstores is the series of Penguin hardbacks of Amitav Ghosh’s books—they’re clearly part of a series, they’re minimal, with just one strong visual for each cover, and they’re powerful. Of course, they’re grim and convey gravitas, where the covers for the Abir Ganguly books need to convey youth and playfulness, but they work well as a series.
The publisher’s design brief is below, under the fold. It is entirely written by the dudes at Hachette, which I find important to point out, because I would never have the audacity to praise my own book. (Also, the blurbs are obviously a temporary filler.)
Read more...
Posted by Amit Varma on 23 December, 2008 in
Arts and entertainment |
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
If the immensely thorough Martin Beck was still active today, I imagine he might well have been involved in cases like this one:
Police in Finland believe they have caught a car thief from a DNA sample taken from a mosquito they noticed inside an abandoned vehicle.
Finding the car in Seinaejoki, north of Helsinki, police saw that the mosquito had recently sucked blood and decided to send the insect for analysis.
The DNA found from laboratory tests matched a man on the police register.
They arrested the guy, who claimed that he was “just hitch-hiking a lift with a man.” Right.
If I was writing a book of fiction involving a case like this, I wouldn’t make it so easy. In my book, the cops would find the mosquito, do the DNA test, match it with a former criminal on their database—and then find that he died five years ago. So how did the mosquito drink his blood? That would be a nice mystery to solve.
Hell, too many ideas, too little time. And there’s also this blog to maintain…
(Link via email from Anand.)
Posted by Amit Varma on 23 December, 2008 in
Arts and entertainment |
News |
Personal |
Small thoughts
Manjula Padmanabhan does a reading of her novel, Escape, tomorrow at Crossword, and I will be in conversation with her at the event. She will read out a part of the book, after which we shall chat about the novel and her writing, followed by audience questions. If you are a fan of her work—and there is much to like --drop in tomorrow. The details:
Where: Crossword, Kemps Corner, Mumbai
When: 7pm, Thursday, December 18, 2008
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Even if you can’t make it to the event, I recommend you pick up the book. It is set in a country of the future where all women have long been exterminated. The story stars a young girl named Meiji, who has been brought up in secret by three uncles, who run an enormous risk if they are discovered by the ruling generals. As Meiji approaches puberty, they keep her from adulthood by artificial means—but then realize that this is unfair to her, and she should be allowed to grow. Equally, her presence there is dangerous to both her and them. So they decide to let her blossom into a woman, and to send her away from this country, presumably to a place where women are natural. She is accompanied by her youngest uncle.
At one level, this is an adventure story of the journey these two make. At another, it is a coming-of-age story, as a young girl grows into adulthood without having the slightest clue of what it’s like to be to be a woman, both physically and emotionally. At the level I most enjoyed it, though, it is a love story, as her uncle, who hasn’t seen a woman for many years, tries to balance his desire for Meiji with his concern for her welfare.
I won’t give away any more—but be warned that if you start this book close to bedtime, you will be groggy in the morning, for it’s extremely hard to put down.
Also read: Jai Arjun Singh’s review of Escape, and his interview with Manjula; and Nilanjana S Roy’s article placing Escape in a literary historical perspective. There are many more useful links on Manjula’s blog.
Posted by Amit Varma on 17 December, 2008 in
Arts and entertainment |
Personal
Anything that contains the words, “The World Blogger Championship”, obviously must be encouraged, especially if the championship in question is a championship for bloggers, not of blogging—for how can you compete in blogging? Pokerstars.com, where I spent a fair bit of time these days, is hosting the fourth annual World Blogger Championship of Online Poker this month, and I intend to take part. To participate, I’m supposed to verify that I’m a bona fide blogger by posting the code below on my blog—so here goes:
*
A couple of nights ago, a few bloggers, Mr Sabnis, Lord Khanna and Sir Srivathsan were at my place, and we played an all-night poker game. It could, in a manner of speaking, be considered the Mumbai Blogger Championship of Offline Poker. I began the night with one matchbox and ended with six, so I am pleased to say that that particular championship belongs to me. Now for the world…
Posted by Amit Varma on 12 December, 2008 in
Personal
The WTF lines of the day come from the fashion designer Sabyasachi Mukherjee:
In the light of the recent terror attacks, I feel that we should assert our unity through our Indianness in clothing. [...] Think about it, men and women in Indian traditional wear is the first step towards feeling Indian… and thinking like one. Picture this — men in kurtas and women in saris or salwar kurtas at CST station on a busy Friday morning.
If Mukherjee ever does go to CST on “a busy Friday morning”, he will find most of the women there dressed in “saris or salwar kurtas” anyway. Maybe it doesn’t seem that way from whichever five-star hotel he stays at when he comes here for his fashion shows, but most Indian women wear Indian clothes most of the time.
And anyway, what is an Indian dress? If one gets anal about it, and takes a historical perspective, one could argue that stitched clothing came to India from outside, and salwar-kurtas and saree blouses thus don’t qualify as Indian. Equally, I would argue that the jeans and T-shirt I’m wearing right now are as Indian as the churidar kurta I wear on special occasions—to begin with, they’re manufactured here. Perhaps Mukherjee, or Sabya as the DNA article refers to him, feels less Indian when he wears jeans—I don’t.
And while I wear kurtas quite often, the reason I mostly wear jeans with them, and not a churidar or suchlike, is a practical one: Jeans have zippers. With ‘Indian’ clothing, the logistics of relieving oneself, when one needs to pee, can get daunting—especially for a lazy half-bong like me.
‘Sabya’ also says in that article that he is “actually planning to approach the Planning Commission of India with this suggestion.” How I’d love to be a fly in the wall when that meeting takes place. A fly in jeans.
Posted by Amit Varma on 12 December, 2008 in
India |
Personal |
WTF
If Mahinder Watsa did not exist, we would have to invent him. Who else could get so many thousands of people to display their utter ignorance of sexual matters? Consider this question on Ask The Sexpert:
I indulged in unsafe sex on the ninth day of my period cycle. My friends asked me to have papaya to avoid pregnancy, which I did. Now, I am waiting for my periods. Should I take any other precaution? Please help.
Mr Watsa, naturally, sagely answered that papaya does not help in these matters. This reminds me of a chappie I knew in junior college who was just discovering his sexuality at the late age of 16. One day he called me and said, “Amit, I have a question to ask.”
“Go ahead,” I said seriously. “If it is within my domain of expertise, I shall do my best to answer.”
“Amit, here’s what I want to ask. How does one, um, how does one, ah, how does one, eh, [whispers] masturbate?”
I scratched my chin. What to say to this now? I decided to mess with him.
“Oh, that’s easy,” I said. “Just catch the tip and squeeze it hard.”
“Thank you, Amit! Thank you!”
I went back to whatever I was doing, and half an hour later he calls me again.
“Amit, there’s a problem.”
“What happened?”
“I followed your instructions but, ah, but, er, [whispers] it’s hurting.”
So there you go. If this was to happen today, the dude would promptly write a letter to Mahinder Watsa, and Mr Watsa would, in all seriousness, proceed to explain how one masturbates.
Oh, wait.
Earlier posts on Mr Watsa: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.
Posted by Amit Varma on 12 December, 2008 in
Personal |
WTF
So I’m back to blogging after what I think was my longest break ever of 11 days. I hope you’ve been good in all this time. Have you been visiting other blogs? Naughty, naughty.
I’d promised in my last post to blog some thoughts on the aftermath of the attacks, but there was an overdose of facts, alleged facts and opinions around me, and I didn’t see any value joining in myself. I got many invitations to light candles, hold hands in unity, and join ‘say no to terrorism’ Facebook groups—as opposed to the ‘say yes to terrorism’ groups, I guess-- but I declined them all, not seeing the point to them. I mean, they’re useful in terms of making an individual feel better in a time of sorrow and anger, and building a sense of community—but no more than that. It’s just temporary feel-good-ness
The continuous flow of outrage has amused me a bit. Why now? The LeT and other such groups have been fighting a war on India for years now, so the fact that there are terrorists out there who are plotting against India is hardly a revelation. Equally, my question to all those people complaining about how our governments have let us down is this: Where were you for the last 61 years? Ever since we achieved independence, our government has been designed to rule us, not serve us, and is like a massive beast feeding itself and getting fatter and fatter, while we labour under the illusion that this beast serves us. Hello? This beast serves only itself, and none of what went wrong, either with our security or with our response to the attacks, was atypical. This is what our government is, and has been for six decades. Why weren’t we outraged earlier?
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Still, better now than never. There was a semblance of accountability after the attacks, with Shivraj Patil, Vilasrao Deshmukh and RR Patil resigning, and you would hope that this motivates their replacements to get their act together. But remember—one of them is Chhagan Bhujbal, and his return, after his earlier resignation because of the Telgi scam, holds a lesson for the Patils and Deshmukh: all this is a charade, and public memory is short.
The biggest issue with our government is one of accountability. Governments are held accountable by elections, but, alas, most politics in our country is identity politics, fought on the basis of caste, religion, ethnicity etc. Issues rarely decide elections. (Also, all politics in India is local, and no single issue can possibly decide a national election.) Will it be different this time? Perhaps. But if the Manmohan Singh government fails to bring the LeT planners to justice, what are the options you have? The BJP, under whom IC 814 took place?
*
We were lucky in capturing one terrorist alive—without Mohammad Ajmal Kasab’s confessions, we might have had indications that these attacks were the handiwork of the LeT, but no proof strong enough to convince the international community. Because of the details given to us by Kasab, some of them independently corroborated by the Indian and US intelligence establishments, there is no doubt about either the organisation or the people involved. That opens a window of opportunity for us to act tough, and we have to exploit that window, or rue the missed chance forever. We have the high moral ground right now, and we must act.
And how should we act? Unlike most commentators around me, I believe that I simply don’t have enough information to be able to comment on specifics. We don’t know what’s happening behind the scenes between the India, Pakistan and US governments, and I am inclined to give Manmohan Singh the benefit of the doubt, for now, when he says that restraint can be a sign of strength. Sure it can—but only if it achieves results. Rahul Gandhi’s words, that “there is also a cost to killing innocent Indians”, are encouraging—and this government must be judged by whether it can inflict that cost, and punish the perpetrators.
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And that’s it for this post. Regular blogging resumes. Such relief comes.
Posted by Amit Varma on 12 December, 2008 in
India |
Personal |
Politics
There will be no birthday celebrations, but India Uncut turned four today. The first post of this blog was written on December 1, 2004, and since then I’ve written more than 6000 posts on this blog alone. Most of my blogging has been filter-and-comment, where I link to interesting or newsworthy pieces and comment on them, but I’ve also done a little reportage when I’ve been travelling on journalistic assignments, as well as op-ed kind of posts.
India Uncut has changed my life in many ways. I got much journalistic work because of this blog, including the weekly column with Mint that won me the Bastiat Prize last year. It helped me polish my writing skills, making my posts crisper, and less self-conscious and self-indulgent. I learnt more about the world while blogging, because writing a post on most things involves a certain amount of background research. I fell into many traps, and in the process became aware of them—such as the need to have an opinion on everything, or to have narratives that explain every event, and so on. (I will elaborate on this some other time.)
Many of my old posts make me cringe, either in terms of how poorly they were written, and how shallow the thinking behind them was. But they’re milestones on a journey I’m still on, and I’m thankful for that. Perhaps four years from now, the posts I write these days will also appall me. In fact, I hope they do—that will at least mean that I’m getting better, and there’s still a point to it.
The biggest thing I have gained from India Uncut is the readership this blog has. It baffles me sometimes—why would so many people want to read me? And I’m also deeply grateful for it. The biggest blessing a writer can have is a sense that people are reading him and engaging with his writing. I never had this sense when I wrote my column for Mint, or wrote pieces for WSJ, the Guardian or even a high-traffic website like Cricinfo. With India Uncut, I do—and feel immensely fortunate.
This blog has changed over the last few years—there are fewer posts per day, and since the time I stopped writing columns and op-eds to focus on being a novelist, less detailed commentary on economics or politics. Many of you have written in complaining about this—but I must confess that I never felt at home being that sort of a pundit. It wasn’t my natural ground; and though I’m quite pleased with many of the columns I wrote, and was getting better at the form as the years went by, I always felt that it was a compromise, and not what I would most like to do.
From the time I learned to read, I have wanted to be a writer of fiction, telling stories. Over the years, I have procrastinated, and eventually something had to give. It did this year, and I finally sat my ass down and wrote a book. Obviously I can’t say how good it is—maybe I’ll look at it a few books down the line and cringe, the way I do with some old IU posts. But I thoroughly enjoyed writing it, and felt at home. That’s all I want to do from now on, and I’m reconciled to the relative poverty that implies.
That said, this blog was a happy accident. Once I got used to the medium, I began to enjoy it throughly, and I shall continue to blog for as long as I can. (Or as long as my broadband connection allows me to.) It’s immense fun—and with so much WTFness in the world, maybe it’s even necessary. (For me, not for the world, which won’t change because of a few puny blog posts.) The nature of the blog has changed a bit over the years, but I hope you won’t mind the trade-off once my books start coming out.
On that note, I must inform you that blogging will remain slow for another week. The deadline I mentioned here, for handing in the final manuscript of “My Friend, Sancho”, has been extended by my kind publishers by a week. And I’m still at work. I’ll put up a post tomorrow with some more thoughts on the aftermath of the attacks, and then take it easy. We go back a long way, I think you’d agree, and a few days don’t matter. No?
Posted by Amit Varma on 01 December, 2008 in
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
Before I go back into hibernation, a few links and thoughts.
My friend and former colleague Sambit Bal has a beautiful piece on Cricinfo about these attacks, echoing the feelings I’d expressed in my earlier post of how it seems perverse to think of anything else, do anything else, while this mayhem is happening. He writes:
I was on the streets of Bombay covering the communal riots in 1992, and the serial bomb blasts in 1993. I have seen a mob with swords chase a man and sever his arm from his body; I have seen rioters set an old man alight after garlanding him with car tyres; and I have faced the prospect of being burnt alive myself. For days I left home kissing my small child goodbye with thoughts of the worst. Those days return to haunt me sometimes even today.
But somehow I felt I understood what was happening then. I couldn’t relate to it, but I understood the thirst for retaliation and revenge, the hatred and the frenzy that temporarily consumed ordinary people. I even wondered about a foreseeable future when I could sit down with some of the rioters and talk about what drove them to such madness.
But this is simply beyond my comprehension. Every time I see the photograph of the young man - who looks not a lot older than my son - dressed in jeans and t-shirt, carrying a machine gun as casually as a satchel on his shoulder, bearing a sinister glee in his eyes, I am reminded of Barack Obama’s words about the killers of 9/11: “My powers of empathy, my ability to reach into another’s heart, cannot penetrate the blank stares of those who would murder innocents with such serene satisfaction.”
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Another good friend, Prem Panicker, has been putting up some fine posts at his blog. Here’s the latest.
His Twitter updates are also exceptional, drawing both from the live coverage of his colleagues at the scene of action, and from what he sees on TV. For example:
TV LOL: “Intermittent firing has been going on non-stop at the Taj”.
Indeed, Mumbai’s Twitter users have been magnificent over the last two days. If you’re one of them: Salute.
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This report pissed me off:
Sources said though the plane carrying NSG Commandos was ready by midnight, it could not take off due to the delayed arrival of a VIP, who wanted to accompany them to Mumbai, at the Delhi airport. Worse, the Commandos had to wait for a vehicle at the Mumbai airport until morning.
Also, I see no pressing reason why Manmohan Singh, Sonia Gandhi, LK Advani and other political VIPs had to visit the victims at this time, diverting precious resources at a time when the police were already stretched. Why now?
I’d blogged about this VIP syndrome in 2005, when I was travelling through Tamil Nadu after the tsunami. Disasters come and go; our VIPs stay the same.
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People are calling this Mumbai’s 9/11. In the sense that this city will never be the same again, I agree. But in terms of what we do about it, I’m not sure.
Once it was clear that 9/11 was caused by al-Qaeda, the US went after them, not bothering with niceties like their geographical location. From the information available at the time of writing this, it seems that we can soon be equally certain of who’s behind this. So what will we do?
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Ramesh Srivats captures some WTF moments from the last two days here. But, as he points out, it’s as scary as it is funny. An excerpt:
Commandos are landing on the Nariman Building. They seem to be tip-toeing down. They are communicating to each other through hand signals. Secrecy & surprise are paramount. And NDTV is showing this live!!! With informative commentary on how many commandos have landed and so on. Perhaps NDTV’s research has shown that terrorists only watch cartoon network during missions.
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For decades now, we’ve taken it for granted that our army is better equipped and trained than our police. Our army defends our country from outside attack; our police looks after local law and order, which demands less of them.
But it’s become clear now that that old paradigm has changed. As long as we are threatened by terrorists, we will remain in a state of suspended war, and we need to invest in bringing our cops up to date with urban warfare, in terms of both training and equipment.
The heroism they have displayed in the last two days makes it clear that our police can match the best forces in the world in terms of valour and spirit. But it’s time now to back them up so that if terrorists attack Mumbai again, we won’t need to call in the army.
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Some quick links to end this post:
One of my friends mentioned in an email that perhaps our security forces should ask themselves one question when they are faced with such situations: “WWID:
What Would Israelis Do?” On that note, The Jerusalem Post relays criticism of our security forces by Israeli defense officials.
Check out Sadanand Dhume’s piece in The Wall Street Journal titled “India’s Antiterror Blunders”. In his piece he describes how “the Indian approach to terrorism has been consistently haphazard and weak-kneed.”
My friend Salil Tripathi has a piece in Far Eastern Economic Review in which he writes” “If Bombay maintains its stride, if it continues to exude its characteristic warmth, it is in spite of those who rule it, and not because of them.”
And in “The Longest Day”, Vir Sanghvi writes that “even before the post-mortems begin and the excuses are offered up, three points need to be made.” I don’t always agree with Sanghvi’s analysis—but this is an excellent piece, and he is dead right on all three counts.
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There have been many things I’ve wanted to write over the last couple of days, and many pieces I’ve wanted to link to, but I’ve felt too unsettled and disturbed to put it all together. This city is my home not just because I live here now, but because it embraced me when I first came here. I often say that Mumbai is the only city in India where you can land up from anywhere and feel at home right away. Indeed, if the men behind this mayhem, who allegedly travelled here from Karachi, came here as tourists, they too would feel at home in no time. And I know, despite the pain and the rage that all Mumbaikars no doubt share with me today, that this will not change. Our arms will still be open—but hopefully, so will our eyes.
Blogging might be slow for the next couple of days for the reasons explained here. Subscribing to my RSS feed is one way to stay updated.
Posted by Amit Varma on 28 November, 2008 in
India |
News |
Personal |
Politics |
Small thoughts
This is turning out to be one crazy night. A friend of mine had an opening of her art exhibition a few hours ago, so we ventured to South Bombay for that. We attended the exhibition, sipped the litchee juice, nibbled on party snacks, and then six of us headed out for dinner. First we tried Indigo Deli, which is a couple of hundred metres from the Taj. We were told there would be a 25-minute wait. So we headed to All Stir Fry, the restaurant in the Gordon House Hotel in a lane down from there. They told us we’d have to wait 20 minutes. We stepped out again, and as we did so, we heard gunshots, and saw people running towards us from the left side.
One of the hotel employees rushed out and told us to get back in. “There must have been an encounter,” he said. “Get back in, you’ll be safe inside.”
We followed him in. We waited in the lounge-bar upstairs for a while. The big screen there was showing cricket. India won. Then someone changed the channel.
That’s when we realised that this was much more than a random police encounter, or a couple of gunshots. We heard that terrorists with AK-47s had opened fire outside Leopold’s, the pub down the road. We heard there was firing elsewhere in the city as well, including in the Taj. We watched transfixed, and as the apparent scale of the incidents grew, we realised we couldn’t go home. We asked if they had a room vacant; they did, so we settled in, switched on the TV, and watched in horror.
*
Uptil this point, these are the things we know from TV:
A bunch of terrorists opened fire in various parts of the city using AK-47s and suchlike. Some of them, it was reported, captured a police jeep and went around shooting people in that.
Terrorists captured parts of both the Taj and the Oberoi. There have been bomb blasts at both hotels. (We heard the second one at the Taj from our window in the Gordon House Hotel.) It is rumoured that foreigners have been taken hostage. It is reported that parts of the hotels are on fire.
At least four top police officers have been killed. Some members of parliament are reported to still be trapped inside the Taj.
There has also been attacks on the Marriott in Juhu, as well as the Ramada. There was an attack on VT Railway Station. There were blasts in Santa Cruz and Vile Parle. There was an attack on Cama Hospital, and, I’ve just heard, Bombay Hospital.
A petrol pump was blown up in Colaba, a couple of minutes walk from where we are.
And, just a minor statistic, no doubt, amid the horror of today: a diner was shot while coming out of Indigo Deli, where we were standing minutes earlier.
*
I’m fine now, I suppose, in terms of physical safety. If I wasn’t accompanied by the partner, and if three of the six of us weren’t women (including one who is pregnant), I would have headed out to the Taj. But the area is cordoned off, and I don’t have a press pass anymore, so I’d probably have been turned away. A journalist friend of mine is outside the Taj, and speaking from her colleague’s cellphone—hers ran out of battery a while ago—she tells me that she is safe behind the armymen who have now arrived on the scene. I hope that helps. I hope this is over soon.
Earlier today, I was working on a final polishing of my novel before it goes to press. Now I wonder what’s the point. The book will come out in April, and Bombay will be a different city then. This book was written in a Bombay before these attacks; it will come out in a Bombay after these attacks, and it somehow feels, as I sit here in the business center of a boutique hotel a stone’s throw away from mayhem, that it will be inadequate. It is a love story—and isn’t that perverse?
But of course, I say that now, caught up in the moment, a little more emotional than I normally am. Maybe tomorrow it won’t seem so bad. Maybe next week we shall be normal again, and life will go on as it always has. Maybe I’ll come to Indigo Deli for dinner sometime, and when asked to wait 20 minutes, shall loiter in the pavement outside, enjoying the night air of this city I love so much. Maybe. Maybe not.
Update (10.25 am): Right, I’m safe at home now. We hardly slept, and were told early in the morning by friends that a curfew was going to be imposed on the city, and if we wanted to leave for home, we’d better leave right away. The news mentioned that three terrorists were still on the loose in the city, and the Taj still burnt, but we stepped out anyway and made it back safely. We passed the Ramada and the Marriott on the way, perhaps taking the same route that one group of gunmen took last night on the way to Borivali, where gunfire was also reported.
Suddenly, what is familiar seems macabre.
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I was on Larry King Live on CNN about three hours ago. They called me and asked me to be on the show as an eyewitness, at which I protested that I hadn’t actually seen anything, I was merely in the vicinity. But they’d read what I wrote in this post earlier, and they wanted me to talk about that. So I agreed, and came on briefly. King asked me if I’d actually seen any terrorists—I felt guilty that I couldn’t offer him any dope there.
Deepak Chopra was also on the show, speculating that the attacks had taken place because terrorists were worried about Barack Obama’s friendly overtures to Muslims. (I know: WTF?) That sounded pretty ridiculous to me, but such theories are a consequence of our tendency as a species to want to give gyan. A media pundit, especially, feels compelled to have a narrative for everything. Everything must be explicable, and television expects instant analysis.
This is foolish, for sometimes events are complicated, and we simply need to wait for more information to emerge before we can understand it. But many of us—not just the pundits—don’t have the humility to accept that. We want to feel in control, at least on an intellectual level, so reasons and theories emerge. But the world is really far too complicated for us. Yet somehow we muddle along.
The right kind of gyan, in the immediate aftermath of this, is historical perspective, which Christiane Amanpour provided on King’s show. Anything else is premature.
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The kind folk at the Gordon House Hotel did three important things for us last night. One, they ushered us in when the gunshots began, assuring us that we’d be safer inside than outside. Two, they got us a room for the night, and extra mattresses and so on. Three, in the morning, they refused to accept payment for the room, insisting that we were their guests and this was their duty.
We left them a hefty tip out of gratitude, but I’m still in disbelief about their kindness. I often complain about the poor service in the hospitality industry in India, but never again about All Stir Fry or the Gordon House Hotel. What guys!
*
We passed Churchgate on our way home at about 8.45. It was obviously nowhere near as crowded as usual. But still there was a steady stream of people headed out, staring ahead, trooping off to work. This city did not sleep last night, I know. But it will not rest either.
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Update (November 28): I have a new post up with more thoughts, and a few links: “This City With Arms Wide Open”.
Posted by Amit Varma on 27 November, 2008 in
India |
Personal
Blogging for the rest of this week is going to be slow. I need to deliver the final manuscript of “My Friend, Sancho” to my publishers by November 30, and am rewriting a portion of it that I wasn’t quite satisfied with. So I shall go easy on the surfing and blogging for the next four days, though I won’t lay off entirely. Stay tuned—and subscribe to my RSS feed if you haven’t already.
And if the empty hours get too unbearable, make a list of five things you would do today if you were going to die tomorrow. And then go out and get started on one of them. (You can call this Paanchvidaniya.) Have fun!
Posted by Amit Varma on 26 November, 2008 in
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
Check out James Wood’s superb review of “The World Is What It Is”, Patrick French’s wonderful biography of VS Naipaul. I love the first paragraph.
George Packer also has a good review of the book here.
And while on books, I was fascinated by this image uploaded by Mark Sarvas of the plot chart of “Harlot’s Ghost”, Norman Mailer’s 1991 novel. Daunting.
Mailer’s considerable achievements include winning the Bad Sex Award, and this year’s winner has just been announced. Here’s the sentence that surely clinched it for Rachel Johnson’s “Shire Hell”:
As he nibbles and pulls with his mouth, his hands find my bush, and with light fingers he flutters about there, as if he is a moth caught inside a lampshade.
If I read that line before I lost my virginity, I’d probably have taken a vow of celibacy. I do take a vow, though, of never attempting to write a sex scene in my own books. Unless I’m taking the mickey out of it—no pun intended.
And to end this post with publishing news, some publishers are feeling the effects of the downturn—and some aren’t. Go, Hachette!
Posted by Amit Varma on 26 November, 2008 in
Arts and entertainment |
Personal
For those of you so interested, there is now an India Uncut Facebook group. My friend MadMan started it for me, insisting that readers of this blog would appreciate it. In case that’s true, well, there it is.
One of the nice things about Facebook is that it makes you feel popular. In the real world, I have just a handful of good friends—and none of them are free for coffee when I’m done with my day’s work at 4 am. On Facebook, on the other hand, I have many ‘friends’, even if I haven’t even met most of them, and can succumb to the illusion of being loved and wanted even as I go about my solitary way in the real world. I hope my Facebook Friends, and the declared India Uncut readers on that Facebook group, will buy my book when it comes out in April. Now, that will give me a warm glow!
Posted by Amit Varma on 26 November, 2008 in
Personal
Right—I’ve finalized a publisher. I’m pleased to announce that my first novel, My Friend, Sancho, will be published by Hachette India in April 2009.
Hachette India is part of Hachette Livre, the world’s second-largest publisher, who had more books than any other publisher last year in the New York Times bestseller list. While they’re giants worldwide, they’ve just set up shop in India. They launched officially in a function in New Delhi last evening; my book will be the first release in their local list.
So all of you complaining about how I no longer write five posts a day will soon, I hope, see that it’s been worth it.
Meanwhile, the broadband connection of the friends I’m staying with in Delhi is down—I’ve cunningly managed to log on to a neighbour’s wi-fi just to make this important announcement—so blogging will be slow for a couple of days. But your patience will be rewarded.
Posted by Amit Varma on 18 November, 2008 in
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
... for winning the 2008 Man Asian Literary Prize!
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After Miguel’s book Ilustrado was shortlisted, he had told the Guardian that making it to the shortlist was “like someone coming into my dark room and throwing open the curtains.” That seemed like a perfect simile to me—writing is a solitary act, with insecurity and self-doubt our closest companions, and the room does seem terribly dark sometimes. This prize ensures that the curtains will always remain open on Miguel’s work, and I’m delighted for him.
Miguel and I had exchanged emails after we got longlisted for the prize, and we promised to send each other signed and inscribed copies of our books. Now I can’t wait!
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And when will My Friend, Sancho be on the shelves? I’m going to Delhi this Sunday to meet all the publishers who have made me offers, and finalize a deal. Whoever I sign with, the release date is likely to be around the end of April 2009. I’ll announce it here within a week.
Posted by Amit Varma on 14 November, 2008 in
Arts and entertainment |
My Friend Sancho |
Personal
