Don't go(a) there!

First, props to Atreyee Dev Roy and Rouhan Sharma for crafting one of my favorite leads of the year, published today in The Indian Express ("New year Goa flights on a high"): "Fly Mumbai-Goa-Mumbai on low-cost carrier Air Deccan this weekend for Rs 19,500 or Delhi-London-Delhi on British Airways for Rs 16,330."

Second, hah! Perhaps I can't really speak, because I've never been to Goa, much less the assured bacchanalia of trance parties and free love on one of the world's greatest beaches, but this strikes me as absolutely fucking absurd. And you can't blame the airlines -- they're only charging these fares because they can ("In the run-up to the year end, domestic air fares this season are literally sky high, reflecting an unprecedented shortage in supply in select sectors.").

No, aspiring socialites and social climbers, I'm laughing at you. It may offer prestige to say you spent the naya saal in Goa, and you may get to see and be seen. But I'm guessing that Goa, particularly at this high tourism juncture, is pretty robbed of any of its charm and appeal, because there are so goddamn many morons running around, scantily clad, with oversized Chanel (or Channel, eh?) sunglasses perched on an adorable coif.

I'll take Dharamsala, thankyouverymuch.

Writers and Jaipur's heritage

Abhay Mishra's piece in the Indian Express today, "Meet Rushdie, Kiran Desai at Jaipur Heritage Festival," piqued my interest. Anyone been the the heritage fest? Will this manufactured event actually provide fruitful literary commentary, or is it just a publicity stunt, featuring fleeting glimpses of authors whom we have constructed as heroes?

Unfortunately, the article doesn't provide any answers -- or even any details, beyond the fact that it is sometime between January 13 and 23 and presumably in the Pink City -- so I can't offer much food for thought.

I have, however, just finished The Inheritance of Loss, written by Desai. Not great (though it was awarded this year's Booker), but certainly not execrable. It seemed to lack a certain formal structure, hiding behind the larger issues it presented, but perhaps that's just the influence of recent criticism I've imbibed. I will say, however, that the way Desai ran together words reminded me of Arundhati Roy, and at time I contemplated whether Desai won only because India is such a hot topic these days. Furthermore, the part of the novel I found most emotionally resonant? When the dog, Mutt (Mutt Mutty Mutton Chop!) was taken from its owner. Probably not the lasting impression the author hoped her readers would glean.

Headline o' the week

Courtesy Indian Express, October 31, 2006: "Americans, Americans: Why Do They Do Things So Differently?"

And, for your pleasure, if you click "read more," you can read my version of the story -- in which I have merely substituted references to America with references to India and its people, and which I call, "Indians, Indians: Why Do They Do Things So Differently?" (Tongue, of course, firmly planted in cheek.)Do you think The New York Times would consider running this on their editorial page?

Europeans call them crazy. But are Indians really crazy or do they just do their own thing?

I have always been intrigued by their use of the word "prepone." When the world refers to plans that have been fast tracked, they say "the date has been moved forward," but Indians say prepone -- even if the prefix has just been added to an coantiquated term for a type of bread!

Even if India's teas were introduced to the world by exploitative colonizers, India's beverage of choice is still chai. And how. A paper cup of milky, syrupy sweet tea filled every two hours or so. Ditto with the samosas. A couple of friends may go through several dozen of these deep-fried wonders in about an hour. I've often wondered if there's such a thing as Indian food -- apart, of course, from tandoori, Chinjabi, dal, and roti.

Talking of khana reminds me of a time when I was visiting a small Indian company. We'd been working nonstop since morning and I was beginning to feel hungry. Finally, at 2:30, I asked we could grab a bite. "Oh, I'm sorry," responded my host, "I usually don't eat until later in the afternoon. And then I just see what's in the canteen." So we walked to the cafeteria; there was enough to feed an army, but I was with someone who "just wanted to see." I got myself a liter of water and some salad, with a small bowl of dal and some boiled rice, but there were Indian and Continental choices aplenty, which my host proceeded to heap in large portions and leisurely consume, before going back for seconds -- and having four or five jalebis. And this guy just wanted to check out the scene!

The Indian economy has traditionally been a disaster. They don't bat an eyelid when government officials embezzle crores of rupees , yet they complain when their company deducts 500 rupees from their monthly take to cover the free lunches and dinners provided at the workplace. Every Indian carries a few hundred spare rupees to bribe traffic police if they're pulled over for running a red light -- who cares if these are the same people who are outraged when Transparency International publishes reports that cites corruption in the country as endemic. Is this all a grand Indian scheme to drive the rest of the world crazy?