identity theft

I'm working on the identity theft issue this week, an assignment that has compelled me to devote more attention to the furor arising from the UK-based Sun's sting operation, which allegedly exposed a scam to sell stolen bank password information, than I might have. The Indian press has been diving into this story with its usual rabid enthusiasm, but it seems to me most papers are taking the Sun's lead and developing an apparently faulty premise. How many articles have been scare items about how data is unsafe at BPOs? Most have been even more critical than the international pieces by the Washington Post and others, which have at least pointed out that the 1,000 passwords the Sun bought pale in comparison to the 40 million swiped in one go from a database in the US. Cooler heads have been relegated to the edit page, even though this is only the second "major" incident of identity theft India has encountered. And who called it major?

I ask you: Why follow the lead of the international press on a story colored (at least in part) by protectionism, racism and irrational fear of a brown planet?

delhi bar ettiquette

Can anybody explain to me why bars in Delhi insist on playing music at deafening volume? Waiters have objected to my complaints variously, but Shaila got the best answer so far: "Madam, nine o'clock: Pub has started." Another guy told us that they wanted the music loud so people would hear it on the street (two floors below) and think the place was "happening." When I asked him how he would convince them it was "happening" after they came in and discovered that nobody was in the place except two drunk journalists (one bald), he had no response. When I went outside with him to confirm that the building's sound-proofing had thwarted his plan, he resorted to obfuscation.

I AM getting old, and I don't have any daily office grind to escape from at the end of the day, but I don't think I'm being unreasonable here. When everybody is sitting down in restaurant format, it's not a dance club. Right? Are there really people out there who will leave if the music isn't loud?

The only place I've found that will actually entertain requests to turn down the music is Flame's (their grocer's apostrophe, not mine) in GKII M-block market. That, and their shockingly cheap booze, has made the place the hangout of choice for a good cross-section of young professionals, student types and the usual red-eyed whiskey drinkers.

On another note: Isn't it time for GKII M-block market to go through some kind of renaissance? How many bath and toilet fixture shops does one need on top-end real estate? This area used to be the bar capital of Delhi (OK, that's pushing it) back in 2002 or something, but is anyone still interested in drinking in watering holes like M-52? Club Zeros finally died, but was replaced by something equally awful and twice as expensive called ffad or something. Fffuck that.

For the greater good of the city, I therefore humbly offer my services:

Jason Overdorf
Drinking companion, drunk-eye-for-the-sober-guy and barstool consultant par excellence, more than fifteen years experience in New York, Taipei, Beijing, Hong Kong and Delhi


Services:
-drink evaluation
-noise-level metering
-talent scout
-withering interior decoration tips
-general bonhomie

Don't let this opportunity pass you by.

what have you done for me lately

When Manmohan Singh came into office, nobody had very high expectations. The fact was, businessmen gave a sigh of relief that there was going to be a government and not a long struggle for coalition or chaos of protests against a foreign-born PM. They sighed in relief, too, to see Dr. Singh, a business-friendly face, instead of someone who might have been more interested in the backward-looking socialist programs the party had once touted. Over his first year in office, however, expectations for Dr. Singh have grown with each of his successes in warding off threats, until we are asking "what have we done for me lately" instead of marveling that the government is still standing and hasn't been derailed by its Leftist partners as it has knocked down barriers to foreign investment one after the other. But how well has Dr. Singh really done? What should our expectations be? Scott Baldauf takes up the argument in a recent piece in the Christian Science Monitor. Unfortunately, the piece lacks an educative comparison between Dr. Singh's reform accomplishments and those of his predecessor, Atal Behari Vajpayee.

tokyo cancelled by rana dasgupta

By Shailaja Neelakantan

(This snap judgment appeared in Newsweek International in May 2005).

A flight heading for Tokyo is canceled. Thirteen passengers are stranded in the airport, and to pass the time each tells a story in this book. These modern-day Canterbury tales are fantastical and, when they work, grippingly depict the outcomes of human frailties. But sometimes Dasgupta's efforts are too forced. Like the passengers, the stories are set all over the world, predictably showcasing today's global citizens. Still, there's enough sparkle in this debut to make readers eager to read Dasgupta's next work.

a peaceful adolescence

Check out the latest article from Newsweek to benefit from Jason's dogged legwork.

A Peaceful Adolescence

The teen years don't have to be a time of family storm and stress. Most kids do just fine, and now psychologists are finding out why that is.

By Barbara Kantrowitz and Karen Springen

Newsweek International

May 16 issue - At 16, Purva Chawla holds good rankings in schooland loves competing in drama and elocution contests. The New Delhi student is "head girl" of her school and plays for the table-tennis team. Recently she won a public-speaking contest organized by The Times of India, and the British Council selected her to travel to Britain with a group of young leaders to organize a sporting event for kids in Scotland. Even with all her extracurricular activities, she still makes it home for dinner with her parents and goes out to the movies with them twice a week. "I talk with them very freely about what's happening with my friends, boyfriends, whatever," she says.

Is the Chawla family for real? Didn't they get the memo that says teens and their parents are supposed to be at odds until... well, until forever? Actually, they're very much for real, and according to scientists who study the transition to adulthood, they represent the average family's experience more accurately than all those scary TV movies about out-of-control teens. "Research shows that most young people go through adolescence having good relationships with their parents, adopting attitudes and values consistent with their parents' and end up getting out of the adolescent period and becoming good citizens," says Richard Lerner, Bergstrom Chair of Applied Developmental Science at Tufts University. This shouldn't be news—but it is, largely because of widespread misunderstanding of what happens during the teen years. It's a time of transition, just like the first year of parenthood or menopause. Catastrophe is certainly not preordained. A lot depends on youngsters' innate natures, combined with the emotional and social support they get from the adults around them. In other words, parents do matter.

Scientists in the past 15 years have begun to re-examine the assumption that adolescence is all storm and stress. Leading the pack are Lerner and his colleagues, who are in the midst of a major study of exactly what it takes to turn out OK and what adults can do to nurture those behaviors. "Parents and sometimes kids themselves often talk about positive development as the absence of bad," says Lerner. "What we're trying to do is present a different vision and a different vocabulary for young people and parents."

The first conclusions from the 4-H Study of Positive Youth Development, published in the February issue of The Journal of Early Adolescence, show that there are quantifiable personality traits possessed by all adolescents who manage to get to adulthood without major problems. Psychologists have labeled these traits "the five C's": competence, confidence, connection, character and caring. These characteristics theoretically lead to a sixth C, contribution (similar to civic engagement).

The five C's are interconnected, not isolated traits, Lerner says. For example, competence refers not just to academic ability but also to social and vocational skills. Confidence includes self-esteem as well as the belief that you can make a difference in the world. The value of the study, Lerner says, is that when it is completed next year, researchers will have a way to quantify these characteristics and eventually to determine what specific social and educational programs foster them.

In the meantime, parents can learn a lot from this rethinking of the teen years. Don't automatically assume that your kids become alien beings when they leave middle school. They still care what their parents think, and they still need love and guidance—although in a different form. Temple University psychology professor Laurence Steinberg, author of "The Ten Basic Principles of Good Parenting," compares raising kids to building a boat. Parents have to construct a strong underpinning so their kids are equipped to face whatever's ahead. In the teen years, that means staying involved as you slowly let go. "One of the things that's natural in adolescence is that kids are going to pull away from their parents as they become increasingly interested in peers," says Steinberg. "It's important for parents to hang in there, for them not to pull back in response to that."

Communication is critical. "Stay in touch with your kids and make sure they feel valued and appreciated," advises Suniya Luthar, professor of clinical and developmental psychology at Columbia University. Even if they roll their eyes when you try to hug them, they still need direct displays of affection, she says. They also need help figuring out goals and limits. Parents should monitor their kids' activities and get to know their friends. Luthar says parents should still be disciplinarians and set standards such as curfews.

Adolescents are often critical of their parents, but they're also watching them closely for clues on how to function in the outside world. Daniel Perkins, associate professor of family and youth resiliency at Penn State, says he and his wife take their twins to the local Ronald McDonald House and serve dinner to say thank you for time the family spent there when the children had health problems after birth. "What we've done already is set up the notion that we were blessed and need to give back, even if it's in a small way."

Parents should provide opportunities for kids to explore the world and even find a calling. Teens who have a passion for something are more likely to thrive. "They have a sense of purpose beyond day-to-day teenage life," says David Marcus, author of "What It Takes to Pull Me Through." Often, he says, kids who were enthusiastic about something in middle school lose enthusiasm in high school because the competition gets tougher and they're not as confident.

At some point during these years, teenagers should also be learning to build their own support networks—a skill that will be even more important when they're on their own. Kids who don't make those kinds of connections are more likely to get in trouble because there's no one their own age or older to stop them from going too far. Like any other stage of life, adolescence can be tough. But teens and families can get through it—as long as they stick together.

With Julie Scelfo and Jason Overdorf

© 2005 Newsweek, Inc.

nepal cracks down on pro-democracy student groups

Check out Shai's latest contribution to the Chronicle of Higher Ed.

Activists press on despite campus arrests, strikes, and 2 deaths

By Shailaja Neelakantan/KATHMANDU

(This article appeared in the Chronicle of Higher Education in May 2005).

Gagan Kumar Thapa, a graduate student at Nepal's Tribhuvan University, chats and laughs with a friend as he waits to discuss the government crackdown that has him on the run.

Clad in sweat pants and a T-shirt, the chubby, soft-spoken sociology student does not seem like a rabble-rouser or a revolutionary in the style of Nepal's Maoist rebels, whose violent, nine-year insurgency is aimed at replacing the monarchy with a communist regime. Mr. Thapa, an outspoken leader of the Nepal Students Union, is a different brand of rebel. He is a pro-democracy activist who strongly opposes the Maoists. But like a growing number of university students, he also strongly opposes the monarchy, and his strident calls to make the Himalayan kingdom a republic have made him a prime target for King Gyanendra and the army he controls.

Mr. Thapa was forced into hiding on February 1, when the king, a constitutional monarch, sacked Nepal's democratic government, assumed power, and declared a state of emergency, which was withdrawn late last month. The king said the elected parliament and Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba were incompetent and that without absolute control over the country, he would not be able to defeat the Maoists. Several political activists were then put under house arrest.

Mr. Thapa blames royalty for earlier failures to challenge the Maoist rebels, who say they are fighting on behalf of Nepal's poor. Since 1996 more than 10,000 people have died in the insurgency waged by the rebels' Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist) and its now-banned student wing. The Maoists' tactics have included killings, torture, abductions, strikes, roadblocks, and the conscription of child soldiers, according to human-rights groups.

"Nepal's youth have to fight the war on two different fronts, the monarch and the Maoists," Mr. Thapa says.

Students United

Most student associations in Nepal, except the banned Maoist group, have come to share that view. In March seven student unions affiliated with different political parties formed an alliance that has staged protests, distributed pamphlets, and burned effigies of the king. They have also demanded the withdrawal of security personnel from campuses.

The king has taken notice. Since the dismissal of the democratic government, the Royal Nepal Army has arrested thousands of human-rights and pro-democracy activists, many of them students and faculty members. It has also deployed soldiers, some in uniform and some in plainclothes, in most public places and on all university campuses. On February 1, the army, without warning, fired from helicopters on student protesters at Prithvi Narayan College, in Pokhara, about 125 miles northwest of the capital. Two students were killed and some 20 were injured.

Here in the capital, signs of the coup are not immediately evident except for an increased presence of armed police and army personnel. But in the bustling market streets filled with tourists and local people, there is a genuine fear of the security forces. People hush up when police officers pass by.

The king's actions have resulted in disruptions and tensions at Nepal's universities, which had already been crippled by frequent strikes staged by the Maoists and other student groups. Last year alone, Tribhuvan lost almost half of its 150-day academic calendar due to strikes and shutdowns.

At the Institute of Agricultural and Animal Sciences, in Chitwan, in east Nepal, "we lost close to two months of study in 2004," says Bikash Pandel, 24, now a graduate student at Tribhuvan. "They didn't finish teaching us the courses, and we were unprepared when the exams were finally held," he said. "The strikes called by the Maoists scared away the teachers and the students, and now we have all these students being arrested."

Guns on the Campus

Every couple of days since February 1, soldiers have entered university dormitories in the dead of night and arrested dozens of students, according to student groups.

Mr. Thapa managed to avoid being arrested immediately after February 1 because he was not at his home when the army came looking for him. A recent meeting with Mr. Thapa had to be arranged through a local journalist, who changed the location twice in an hour before the meeting. "He cannot be too careful," the journalist says.

The journalist's fears are valid. Both Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have warned that Nepal has had an alarmingly high number of extrajudicial "disappearances" in recent years. Government security forces fighting the Maoists are alleged to be behind many of those, and local and international human-rights groups say abuses by security forces have intensified since February 1.

Government officials, appointed by the king after he sacked those appointed by the prime minister, refused to comment for this article, but have publicly defended the king's actions. In March Nepal's minister of foreign affairs told the United Nations Commission on Human Rights that King Gyanendra's coup was a drastic attempt to save democracy and human rights in Nepal, and he urged the international community to support the king's actions. The king, under increasing pressure from foreign nations and human-rights groups, has since agreed to allow the U.N. high commissioner for human rights to monitor the situation in Nepal . Many students remain gravely concerned.

"They came one night about a month ago and arrested several people, including me," says Chhabi Barat, a graduate student in geography at Tribhuvan. He was released in early April after being detained for 25 days, and only after he agreed to sign a document stating that he supported the king, he says.

Rupesh Khatiwada, secretary of the student union at Tribhuvan's campus in Kirtipur, outside the capital, believes he, too, will be arrested soon. A master's-degree candidate in politics, he points to the gun-wielding soldiers posted on the campus one recent afternoon. They did not stop him and 20 other college students from burning an effigy of the king later that day, as students chanted: "Shame on the royal proclamation, shame on the king, long live democracy."

Like Mr. Thapa, those students also feel stuck in the middle. "We don't want the Maoists with their guns, and we don't want the king with his guns," says Mr. Khatiwada.

"The minute the Maoists stop their violence, we will support them," Mr. Barat says "We understand their concern for the poor."

Faculty Arrests

Another student, 24-year-old Narayan Kharel, a vocal member of the Nepal Students Union, adds that the alliance of the seven students' unions is the best thing to happen in Nepal. He says he supports Mr. Barat and Mr. Khatiwada, even though they belong to another party.

"We are stronger together, and we will fight this together," he says.

Unlike their senior party leaders, who during the pro-democracy movement of the 1980s continued to back a constitutional monarchy, the student activists see royalty as a stumbling block to Nepal's progress. (King Birendra, brother of the current king, acceded to the demands of the pro-democracy movement in 1990. Gyanendra was crowned king in 2001, after Crown Prince Dipendra shot and killed his father, eight other members of the royal family, and himself.)

"There is a generational divide," Mr. Thapa says. "In 1990 the leaders campaigning for democracy felt it was OK to have a constitutional monarchy. For them, the king is still a symbol. But we young people don't believe in such things."

Since the royal takeover, even faculty members who vocally denounced the Maoists in the past for calling strikes and disrupting education are participating in protest marches and demonstrations, as their colleagues are also being arrested.
One day in early April, police and army officials posted outside Padma Kanya College here refuse to allow members of the Nepal University Teachers Association -- who have called a meeting to discuss the arrest of several academics -- to enter the campus. "They are refusing to let us in to hold a meeting, which is our basic right," Bhupati Dhakal, president of the association, told journalists who gathered outside the gates of the college. "How long will this go on? For how long can we be stopped like this at gunpoint? One day they will have to give up." Mr. Dhakal would be arrested two days later.

Undaunted, the association has released a statement condemning his arrest and those of several other faculty members. The statement accuses the king of complicating the political situation instead of trying to resolve it. "Such a condemnable act of the state, amid commitment to respect academic freedoms, has agitated the entire academic field," it states.

In and Out of Hiding

Although King Gyanendra withdrew the state of emergency on April 30, he has held on to major powers; has not released hundreds of detained political activists, including students and faculty members; and has continued to maintain press censorship and bans on political parties and public demonstrations.
The king has also extended the term of the Royal Commission for Corruption Control, a body he set up after removing the government. The commission has sweeping powers to arrest politicians and bureaucrats.

A day before the state of emergency was lifted, security forces fired on student protesters gathered in a college compound in western Nepal, seriously injuring four of them.

Mr. Thapa, the student leader on the run, appeared sporadically in the weeks after his meeting with this reporter, delivering fiery speeches against the king in different parts of the city before going back into hiding.

But his luck ran out on April 26. Police officers surrounded the house where he was staying, and Mr. Thapa, along with two colleagues, was arrested and taken into custody.

whisky ka peg, chicken ka leg, aur?

Finally. Herbal Science, a Bangalore-based company, has released an anti-hangover pill, reports the Economic Times. Some 100 people were involved in clinical trials to prove it works. Two questions: (1) How come they never find ME when they're testing this stuff and doling out the free drinks? These guys must use the same market research firm as the up-market whisky companies, because I am clearly not on either list. (2) How painful must it have been to be in the control group? Drinking your face off with nothing but a placebo to protect you from the crashing hangover? I don't think so.

india making strides against rape?

Absurdity of absurdities: A man accused of raping and gouging out one of the eyes of a hospital co-worker today asked the court to consider a lighter sentence because he was prepared to marry the victim. The woman was not moved. "He should be hanged as an example," was her response. But the fact that the judge allowed the motion has caused some soul-searching in the legal community, according to this article in the Indian Express.

My question is: Is India making strides against violence against women? Do the climbing statistics on reported rapes indicate that women are more prepared to register complaints--presumably because they entertain some hope of successful prosecution--or that the police have become more sensitive and efficient in undertaking these kinds of cases?

India is in the throes of a sexual revolution, no doubt. But certainly women have a long fight ahead of them if judges have little more understanding of rape than the Shiv Sena, which recently reiterated its ever-popular "she was asking for it" line in response to a daylight rape in Mumbai.

an american u. rises in afghanistan

By SHAILAJA NEELAKANTAN

(This article appeared in the Chronicle of Higher Education in April 2005).

The groundbreaking ceremony for the American University of Afghanistan, the country's first private, American-style university, took place in Kabul last month.

The university, which plans to open in 2006, is patterning itself after other American-style institutions abroad, such as the American University of Beirut. It will provide courses in management, communications, and the liberal arts for 1,100 undergraduates. All courses will be taught in English and will be open to students from Afghanistan and the region.

The university will aggressively reach out to young Afghan women, Afghan higher-education officials said. It plans to build appropriate facilities and housing for women, award scholarships to poor women, and hire female professors.

The U.S. government is supporting the university with a multiyear commitment of more than $15-million, Laura Bush, the first lady, said in a speech in Kabul last month. She visited a teacher-training institute, where she spoke of the importance of educating women.
Those pushing for the new university believe there is sufficient interest among Afghans and Afghan-Americans to sustain a private institution.

President Hamid Karzai of Afghanistan attended the groundbreaking ceremony, along with Sharif Fayez, Afghanistan's former higher-education minister, who is interim president of the new university. The Asia Foundation, a San Francisco-based nonprofit group, has signed a grant agreement with the U.S.

Agency for International Development to act as the new university's fiduciary agent for one year. During that time, it will develop a set of financial and administrative systems for the new university and help it raise grant money from AID and other donors.

intriguing offers

Indian airlines has two new promotional schemes worth checking out. With the first, called Bumper Super Saver, you get 16 flight coupons that are valid for one year for around Rs. 65,000. Each coupon is good for a one-way flight, though a handful of the longest journeys, like Delhi-Trivandrum, require two coupons. It works out to a decent bargain for those who need a little flexibility but definitely plan a few journeys, if you do the math. A single APEX ticket for Delhi-Bangalore, purchased 28 days in advance, will run you more than Rs. 5000. Multiply that by 16 and you get Rs. 80,000--for non-refundable, non-changeable tickets purchased more than a month in advance. For seven day advance tickets, you're already up to Rs. 9000 a ticket, or Rs. 144,000. Even if you're making some cheaper short hops, it looks to me like this is a good deal if you make 6 roundtrips a year with less than 7 days notice, based on the average seven-day fare for some 70 routes. (It means you'll get 8 unrestricted roundtrips for the average price of 6 seven-day fares). The second scheme, Smart Super Saver, may be an even better deal. This one allows you to buy, for example, four flight coupons valid for 90 days for Rs. 26,000, which would compare favorably with ordinary full-fare tickets. There are no restrictions and the coupons act just like tickets, applicable to frequent flyer programs, etc, etc.

Nevertheless, I'd like to hear from somebody who has used the schemes--do they screw you by telling you no seats are available, etc? Or has Indian Airlines seen the light ahead of the entrance of a slew of low-cost operators this summer?

getting away from it all

Indians are buying vacation homes where they never did before.

By Jason Overdorf

Newsweek International

April 11/18 issue - Natarajan Viswanathan wanted a place to get away from it all. "Madras was getting too strangulating," says the 74-year-old retired leather exporter. But instead of looking to the southern hill station of Ootacamund—"Ooty" to the generations of British colonists and upper-class Indians who have repaired there to escape the heat of the plains—he chose to build a vacation home in the small, undeveloped town of Kotagiri, an hour's drive from the Raj-era hill station. As it turns out, Viswanathan was something of a trendsetter: since he built his place a year ago, he has seen a dozen more vacation homes pop up, and four of his friends now have him scouting out property.

The market for vacation homes is gathering steam in India, tracking the booming housing market. No separate statistics exist for secondary as opposed to primary residences, but the home-loan market is increasing at a compounded annual rate of 30 percent. With salaries rising and interest rates dropping precipitously—from 16 percent in 1995 to about 8 percent today—the average age of home-loan seekers has fallen, and the size of the loans sought has risen by as much as 50 percent. That means more and more middle-class Indians are joining the elite in buying holiday homes—not only in traditional hill stations away from the baking plains but in new beach and resort communities as well.

Developments like Sahara Group's Amby Valley, a 10,000-acre, resort-style getaway a few hours from Mumbai (formerly Bombay), are generating huge interest, according to international real-estate firms Cushman & Wakefield and Chesterton Meghraj. Market surveys also indicate strong demand for less-expensive homes in similar, if somewhat less opulent, environs. "The upper-middle class and middle class are definitely getting into [the vacation-home market]," says Sandesh Savant, a property consultant based in Pune, near Mumbai. In addition to resort communities, he says, Mumbai residents are looking at farmhouses or homes on the coast south of the city. Since India's poor infrastructure makes road journeys trying, proximity is key for those looking for a second home. "My work and everything is in Bombay, so accessibility is very important to me," says Niloufer Kapadia, a 55-year-old gallery and cafe owner from Mumbai who recently built a house in nearby Ali Bagh. "I wanted a weekend home that would eventually become a retirement home."

Crowded Mumbai, where the stressful lifestyles approximate those of bustling New York, is ahead of the curve. But vacation-home buyers are emerging in other major Indian cities, including Bangalore, Chennai (formerly Madras) and New Delhi. The area surrounding Shimla—a Raj-era hill station six hours from Delhi—has become a favorite among residents of the capital.

For now, most Indians buying second homes consider the property an investment, says Chanakya Chakravarti, joint managing director of Cushman & Wakefield India. That means that demand is highest for developments commuting distance from urban areas that offer "suburban lifestyles," complete with swimming pools and golf courses. But the firm predicts the nascent growth in the purchase of genuine vacation-homes far from primary residences—which make up perhaps two or three of every 10 second-home purchases now—will mature into a boom over the next three years. "All it takes is for one project to really take off," Chakravati says. And a few gracious invitations extended to unsuspecting weekend guests.

© 2005 Newsweek, Inc.

law & order in kathmandu

Reports of the demise of Nepal have been greatly exaggerated, if my recent visit to Kathmandu is any indication of the way things are going next door. International organizations claim there has been a total collapse of law and order, but apparently tourists who frequent Sam's Bar in Thamel, where drinking and carousing continues apace, have not checked their email lately for warnings from the state department. It is true that the Maoists continue their attacks elsewhere in the country and the lives of villagers caught between the army and the rebels have become desperate by all accounts. But the biggest problem the country faces is not the dismissal of the government by the king--those who still insist that democracy is cure for all ills notwithstanding--but the fear-mongering and real danger that have crushed Nepal's tourism industry. The blow to the country's GDP must be enormous--certainly big enough to prompt the king or, one day, the prime minister, to offer some serious developmental sops to the rural areas that have so far been excluded from the prosperity available in the capital. Put roads, electricity, airports, universities, and, most importantly, jobs on the table, and see whether even the sternest ideologues bow to realpolitik.

a factory of one's own

Rather than buying gadgets, toys and clothes ready-made, consumers may one day prefer to download the designs and make them at home.

By Rana Foroohar

(This article appeared in Newsweek International in February 2005)

Feb. 21 issue - Neil Gershenfeld has boundary issues. As a teen, he irked his parents by asking to attend the local trade school rather than the mainstream academy for bright kids like himself. "I was good in science, but I also wanted to learn to make stuff," he says. "I didn't understand why those things had to be separate." At Bell Labs, he ran into trouble with the unions when he tried to use machine tools to fabricate vacuum chambers he needed for his research. So it's no wonder that Gershenfeld, who now runs the Center for Bits and Atoms at MIT's Media Lab, is once again trying to bridge the divide between the digital and the physical. As the inventor of the Fab Lab, a $20,000 mini-factory that can fit into a small room, Gershenfeld aims to bring high-tech manufacturing to the masses.

A Fab Lab (short for fabrication laboratory) is essentially a collection of high-tech factory parts, including readily available open-source software programs, computers and manufacturing equipment such as laser cutters and milling devices, which can be directed through a simple-to-use computer. With such a factory, you can design and make almost anything—from plastic toys to circuit boards and solar panels—out of just about any material. As part of a $14 million project funded by the U.S. National Science Foundation, Gershenfeld has deployed Fab Labs in India, Ghana, Norway, Costa Rica and the United States over the last two years. Already, Norwegian herders have built wireless antennas to track their reindeer; kids from inner-city Boston, Massachusetts, have crafted salable jewelry; Indian farmers have made and sold machines to locate groundwater, and West African students have developed solar cooking devices. "Forget about digital communication," says Gershenfeld. "The next big thing is digital, personal fabrication."

The Fab Lab may portend a new kind of manufacturing. "What if we could some day put the manufacturing power of a Ford factory in our own garage?" writes Gershenfeld in his upcoming book, "Fab" (Basic Books). In the future, rather than buying products, we might download their designs and produce them ourselves. The idea that people might be able to make pretty much anything has provoked a range of emotions from excitement, to dismay over potentially busted business models, fear of terrorists' exploiting the equipment and, conversely, hope that Fab Labs could help spread prosperity. "What's clear is that this technology is going to be disruptive," says Michael Jensen, a director at the National Academy of Sciences.

The roots of the Fab Labs are in both high and low technologies. In the digital age, Gershenfeld reasoned, there's no reason computing and manufacturing couldn't be integrated into one process, or even be done by one person. In his work on another project, Gershenfeld came into contact with Vigyan Ashram, a rural Indian development group, which needed a way of obtaining sensors to detect spoiled milk, devices for tuning diesel engines, machines that could help farmers locate groundwater and other gadgets. The problem was that nobody was mass-producing these products, and it cost too much to have them custom built. What the Indians really wanted was personalized fabrication technology.

Gershenfeld and his MIT colleagues kitted out the Ashram with a 3-D milling ma—chine, an industrial tool for making machine parts and a scanner hooked up to a PC. Local engineering students then helped them design circuit boards to be used in groundwater-locating machines, made on-site. The products not only helped the farmers, but have led to a new business. "We've sold more than 60 of these machines, and we're fully booked to carry out groundwater tests in the area for the next six months," says Yogesh Gulkarni, executive director of Vigyan Ashram. In Ghana, students designed a machine to pound cassava and plantain into fufu, a local dish.

Fab Labs aren't without their challenges. For starters, they require experts of some sort to help out, and in many communities such experts simply aren't available. At Vigyan Ashram, for example, work on the milk sensors and diesel-engine timers ground to a halt after the supervising engineer left during the restructuring of another MIT program in India. For these reasons, the most successful projects may be those that don't require complex computer-design work. Size is another problem. Currently, the tools in the Fab Labs can't make anything larger than themselves—more than a square meter or so. Gershenfeld is trying to develop robotic laser cutters that could drive themselves over large surfaces, creating things like big solar panels. Even if Fab Labs aren't likely to have the range of mainstream manufacturers, however, they may give some poor communities a way to start businesses and raise living standards.

The big question now is who will fund the growth. So far, Gershenfeld has been paying for Fab Lab deployment with his NSF grant. Now he's trying to interest governments and organizations like the World Bank, for whom Fab Labs could be an alternative to aid—a sort of manufacturing version of micro-finance organizations like the Grameen Bank, which encourage locals to bootstrap their own businesses.

Meanwhile, Gershenfeld has been preaching personal-fabrication technology to the likes of HP, Sony, Samsung and Microsoft. A few weeks back in Davos, he made predictions of home-based fabricators that would allow consumers to make their own gadgets, toys and clothes. That vision has a few stumbling blocks (how do you get rid of fumes from milling machines and how do you reduce the lab's cost from $20,000 to $2,000?), but it's easy to imagine companies using Fab tools to craft items for just-in-time shipping rather than storing a large inventory. Gershenfeld recently briefed Jeff Bezos, CEO of Amazon.com on this very idea. Fab Labs might one day bring more choice to both the poor and the prosperous.

With Jason Overdorf in New Delhi and George Nayakene in Ghana

the last word: narain karthikeyan

(This article appeared in Newsweek International in February 2005).

Feb. 28 issue - On March 5, 28-year-old Narain Karthikeyan will become the first Indian to compete in Formula One racing when he takes the wheel for Jordan Grand Prix, the F1 team started by Ireland's Eddie Jordan, in Melbourne. It's a huge achievement for Karthikeyan, known as the "fastest Indian on wheels." Born in Chennai, he has been fighting for a place in the biggest competition in motor sports

for nearly a decade. Now, as he starts his engine, his sponsors Tata Group, JK Tyre and Bharat Petroleum Corp.—Indian companies finally entering into the aggressive marketing world of F1 to compete with giants like Shell and Marlboro—are steering themselves into pole position too. NEWSWEEK's Jason Overdorf spoke to Karthikeyan about his achievements and ambitions, as well as those of his giant country. Excerpts:

OVERDORF: You've been struggling to make it into Formula One for a long time. How does it feel to finally make it?
KARTHIKEYAN: We were all waiting for the right opportunity. I'm really happy to be the first Indian Formula One driver. It means a lot to the motor-sports fraternity.

Aside from cricket, Indian sportsmen don't get much support, yet you've been successful in getting some of India's corporate giants to sponsor you. How did you attract their interest?
Tata is a global company, and Formula One has the right image for them to get brand exposure. Bharat Petroleum has everything to do with cars. It suited their package, so they came onboard. They're also my long-term sponsors. Tata has been supporting me since 1999. Now I need to make it work. First we just need to finish some races—Jordan is not capable of winning yet. Then we'll be looking for more Indian sponsors so we'll have the money to make the car more competitive.

How difficult is it for Indian athletes—aside from cricketers—to break into the big time?
You need to be a standout. If you're pretty good and you're getting results internationally, you'll get some sponsors, like me. But in the beginning it's very, very hard. Cricket has been getting all the support, but slowly that's starting to change. Hockey, tennis and motor sports—these are getting more and more support. You need more international sports persons in these fields. You need some icons like me in Formula One. As this happens, more and more sponsors are going to look at different sports, and more and more kids will take them up.

How popular are motor sports in India?
It's getting there. F1 was the second most-watched sport on TV last year. [Viewership] is pretty high on the satellite channels. Now that's going to go up a lot more because I'm there. There are going to be a lot more Indians watching Formula One. This is a start for motor sports to grow bigger in India.

How do you rate your chances at success?
We have to be realistic. The Jordan car is not the best, for sure. We can't expect to compete with the [Michael] Schumachers of the world. If we finish in the top eight in some race and get the points, that would be great. Even if we finish among the top 14 qualifiers [out of 20 competitors], that would be good. But first we have to bring the car home in every race. In this sport, finishing itself is a big thing. I've been successful in Formula Three and Formula Two and beaten some pretty good drivers when they were competing at that level, so I think I can be very competitive given the right equipment.

Which makes you more nervous, driving on the track or driving on Indian roads?
Driving on Indian roads, by a long way. It's really crazy in some places, though it's getting better. [Foreigners] always ask me, "Which side of the road do you drive on in India—do you have right-hand drive or left-hand drive?" I say, "Whichever side we want." It's pretty dangerous out there.

Formula One has been trying to increase its presence in Asia over the past few years, opening races in Bahrain, Turkey and China. What role can you play in building interest in India?
Formula One at some point needs to grow in more Asian countries, and India is the perfect place. It's going to take government support, and the Indian government should realize that it would be a great thing [to have more Formula One races in India]. It would be great for the image of the country and have a lot of spinoff effects. And China is already ahead of us. Now [that I'm driving] we'll have a lot of viewers in India, a major market with a lot of people.

For Formula One, India has not been exploited yet, so they need to see if they can get something out of it. A lot of Indian companies will be interested in getting global exposure, so there will be a lot of marketing opportunities.

Have you seen a leap in commercial offers?
I am getting some offers, but I need to choose the right ones. So far I've only done ads for my sponsors.

© 2005 Newsweek, Inc.

airlines: brand india is taking off

The $375 million Jet IPO last week is just the latest sign that gloom has given way to euphoria in the Mumbai stock market.

By Jason Overdorf

(This article appeared in Newsweek International in February 2005)

Feb. 28 issue - The same day that "The Aviator" opened in theaters across India, homegrown flying entrepreneur Naresh Goyal debuted Jet Airways, India's first private air carrier, to rave reviews on the Bombay Exchange. In one of the first high-profile signs that Prime Minister Manmohan Singh's moves to deregulate India's aviation industry are beginning to excite investors, the initial public offering of 1.7 million shares sold out within minutes last Friday, raising at least $375 million.

The successful IPO comes as Brand India is taking off. In the first 17 days of February alone, foreign fund managers invested $1.5 billion, and market watchers expect the 2005 total to reach $12 billion, up from $8.4 billion last year and $6.7 billion in 2003. Now, with three billion-dollar IPOs last year and nearly 10 companies with market values in excess of $10 billion, the gloom that once shrouded the Indian market has turned into euphoria, inspired by Singh's reforms. Late last year, for example, his administration succeeded in raising the cap on foreign investment in the aviation sector to 49 percent from 40 percent, and allowed domestic carriers to begin flying abroad. No airline is better positioned than Jet to exploit these opportunities.

When India began opening the skies to competition 12 years ago, Jet became the nation's first private carrier. It is now the leading domestic airline, with a market share of 43 percent. Consumers regularly vote it first in India for service—one reason analysts say it should profit handsomely from an expected boom in air travel inside India, and be able to compete on international routes as well. Many investors see Jet as a way to invest in the growing spending power of India's middle class.

The risk: Jet is losing its first-mover advantage. It faces new private competition from Air Sahara and India's first low-cost carrier, Air Deccan. As many as five more discount carriers plan to open for business in 2005. They face hurdles to applying the discount model in India, where there are no airport slots left in or near big cities like Delhi and Mumbai, and costs for landing fees and jet fuel are extremely high. Still, a fare-price war may be coming. Jet says it's not worried, because it gets 80 percent of its revenue from business travelers who don't pinch pennies. And whether it helps Jet or not, the sight of thriving competition is sure to attract more foreigners to Brand India.

© 2005 Newsweek, Inc.

a black day for indian filmmaking

(This article appeared in Newsweek International in February 2005).

Feb. 28 issue - Indian director Anurag Kashyap expected "Black Friday" to strike a nerve. He hoped it would spark debate. After all, the film is the first feature to deal with the serial bomb blasts that devastated Mumbai in 1993, killing 300 people and injuring thousands. What's more, Kashyap's film seeks to explore the motives behind the attacks and attempts to show that India's opportunistic politicians—who thrive on a cycle of organized violence between Hindus and Muslims—bear a great deal of responsibility for the tragedy. But no matter how much controversy Kashyap anticipated, he was totally unprepared for the legal challenges by the alleged bombers that stopped the film's release last month.

Mushtaq Tarani, one of the men accused in the bombing case, moved the Mumbai High Court to suspend the release of the film, arguing that the dramatization of the crime would prejudice the trial against him. The court issued an interim stay, which the Supreme Court upheld, and now the filmmakers must wait for a ruling from the high court on whether the interim stay will be lifted. Tarani may have a point: "Black Friday" uses the defendants' real names. Tarani himself is shown planting one of the bombs, though Kashyap argues that the voice-over of a character undergoing police interrogation establishes the scene as just the point of view of another gang member. "It's based on a book that has been out there for two years," Kashyap says. "But [the court's] logic is that people don't read books but they do see films."

That's exactly why Kashyap and producer Arindam Mitra wanted to make the movie in the first place: to find out how Indians would respond to the idea that they, along with the politicians they support, are responsible for the Hindu-Muslim violence that culminated in the worst terrorist attack in their country's history. The question now is: when, if ever, will they get to find out?

—Jason Overdorf

© 2005 Newsweek, Inc.

disaster recovery in chennai

Here are some out takes from my reporting in Chennai after the tidal wave. It wasn't THE place to be for reporting on the tsunami by any means, as the city was spared the huge levels of damage seen elsewhere. But it was frightening enough. NOTE: The figures mentioned below have long since been revised as better information has been collected.

Like every disaster, the tsunami hit India not with cruel indifference, but with perverse cruelty, striking hardest those least prepared to deal with tragedy—poor people with no money in the bank to fall back on. Most of the dead are poor fisherfolk who live in villages dotted along the coast of Tamil Nadu (not including the 3000-5000 odd dead on the Andaman and Nicobar islands, which are closer to Indonesia than India). One village, called Nagapattinam, was practically wiped off the map and erased from memory, with some 2500 dead The site of the famous Velankanni church—a popular pilgrimage site for Christians in Tamil Nadu, Kerala and Goa—was especially hard hit, as worshippers gathered Sunday morning for a special Boxing Day service that let out just as the first giant wave hit—one estimate pegged the dead pilgirms at around 500. In Nagapattinam, some 500 bodies were extricated in the past 24 hours and mass burials have been going on for the three days since the wave hit, mostly accomplished with hard labor in the absence of many tractors and bulldozers. Julian Teelar, a relief worker affiliated with the South Indian Federation of Fisherman Societies, told me, “There is no one here that has not lost a relative. People have lost their voices from screaming and crying. We know of one family that lost nine members. Today a fisherman pointed out the spot to me where his two children are buried underneath the rubble and we haven’t yet been able to get them out. He knows they are there, but we haven’t got them out.” In this area, there is a strong risk of an epidemic, as officials race to identify the dead and bury them in mass graves, and already families are reporting that their children are suffering from fever and diarrhea due to the unclean conditions in the relief camps.

The state estimates nearly 4000 dead--188 in Chennai, 486 in Cuddalore, 665 in Kanyakumari and 2414 in Nagapattinam. Some 40% of those killed were children. These estimates, like all of them, are probably fairly loose and will keep changing as time goes on. But there’s little chance that they will go down.

In India, however, the focus on the deaths has hidden what may turn out to be a more longlasting and intractable problem: the loss of housing and livelihoods.

G. Anton Gomez - president National Union of Fishermen -- Told me that the organization estimates that some 70-80 percent of all fishermen in Tamil Nadu (perhaps a million fishermen) lost all their boats and equipment, along with their homes. That means they not only have no place to live, but they have no way of earning money to support themselves or their families. This is going to be a huge headache for the govt also because these are people who live their lives almost entirely “off the books” with only a government ration card for identification, and many lost their ration cards along with all their other stuff. Some of my characters emphasize that point – not least because they’re thinking about what they’ll have to do to keep living more than about the people who are beyond help. I’m going to file an addendum on the relief effort and its likely challenges later tonight or tomorrow morning, with any luck.

In Chennai, where I did my reporting, the people who were affected almost all lived in illegal squatter colonies on the beach. In 1991, the government passed a law called the coastal regulation zone notification which mandated that nobody should build anything permanent within 500 meters of the highest high tide line. But because none of the poor can afford to rent apartments or buy land away from the coast, slums made of thatch huts mushroomed on the beaches anyway. In part this is because the fishermen like it that way: they want to be near their boats and they sell their catch on the beach itself. But it’s also because the government has failed to solve the problem of the shortage of affordable housing (and to enforce its zoning laws).

Says T. Mohan, an environmental activist for Coastal Action Network who works with fishing communities:

“Subsistence fishing communities live on the coast. They're used to taking

that risk [of natural disaster]. But we're pushing them closer and closer to the coast because of

urbanization and the rising cost of land. There are also large numbers of

slums that have grown up along the coast because of administrative failure

to build safe & affordable housing for people [other than fishermen] who

don't need to live near the coast. They ought not to have been there." That might be true, but as the characters below illustrate, they plan to go right back to the sites of their destroyed huts.

Below find some local color from Chennai, with a few perspective “characters” for the reconstruct.

55-year-old Walli was sitting in front of her hut in the seaside colony of Orur Kuppam, a cluster of some 500 huts made from coconut thatch, built illegally on public beachfront land in the South Indian city of Chennai, when the tsunami hit. There was no warning. The great wave made no noise. It simply arose, a giant wall of water in the distance, and, traveling at some 500 mph, hit the beach seconds later. A frail woman, prematurely aged from a lifetime of hard work, Walli wasn’t able to run fast enough to escape with the others, and the wave caught her and dragged her into the sea. Tumbling in the boiling foam, she was too stunned to think what was happening as salt water forced its way into her nose and mouth. Then, as abruptly as it had taken her, and with the same relentless force, another wave swept the old woman back up the beach. As the wave drew back, threatening to sweep her out to sea again, it smashed one of the thatched roofs down on her, bashing her shins, but pinning her to the sand and, as it turned out, saving her life. The wave receded, and some of her neighbors ran to her and dragged her to safety.

As she tells her story, it is clear that the amazement has not left her, even as she and the other residents of Orur Kuppam—all of whom lost their homes and all their possessions—struggle to prove to government and private relief workers what they lost and earn compensation. And like the others here, she knows that as soon as she can, she will be back in another hut a scant hundred feet from the water. “We have nothing but the sea,” she says. “All we know is fishing. And we cannot afford to pay rent on what we earn. By god’s grace I was saved because a hut fell on me.”

On Sunday Dec. 26, Marimuthu—a former fisherman who works as a night watchman in the Chennai neighborhood of Besant Nagar—finished work at 6 in the morning and walked back to the strip of beach where he once lived with his wife Sangita and his three children. Known as Orur Kuppam, Marimuthu’s neighborhood was a close huddle of some 500 huts made from coconut thatch, some with brick and mortar foundations, built illegally by squatters on public beachfront land. Since he had taken a vow to make a religious pilgrimage to Sabari Malai in Kerala in January, Marimuthu was abstaining from alcohol, meat and sex for the 41 days leading up to the journey, bathing and praying every morning. So on the day of the tsunami, he went to the temple on the inland side of the slum cluster to pray, along with others who’d taken the same vow. Because his wife, a housemaid, goes to work at 6:30, his children were awake when he finished his prayers and returend home around 8. His eldest child was playing near the house with one of his nephews, and his second daughter was playing with a friend some way away. Exhausted from stayng up all night, Marimuthu fell asleep with his nine-month old baby in his arms.

Suddenly, shouts woke him up and he came rushing out of the hut with his baby in his arms. A huge wave, perhaps 20 feet high, was rushing toward the shore. “The only thought in my mind at that time

was that I should somehow save my own two children and the other two

children, who had been entrusted to me for minding. I dont know how I did

it- but I was carrying the nine-month-old and the three year-old and

dragging the other two along with me and running away from the coast towards

the road, the wave literally chasing me for some distance, till it hit the

huts. Several huts caved in due the impact of the wave , and a lot of

domestic items from several houses which were lying on the floor were

carried away to the sea by the receding wave. I along with several others

who also ran away to safety like me were watching helplessly, when their

precious little belongings were being swallowed by the hungry sea. After

this wave, though the sea appeared calm for some time, nobody dared to go

near their hut. All of us were watching the sea , not knowing what to do

next.”

Then , in another 20/30 minutes, it happened again. This time the

wave was much bigger and higher, may be 20 feet and when it hit the cluster

of the tenements, the devastation was complete. On the return the wave dragged along with it all that was remaining of these tenements. Once it receded , the whole place where almost 350 families lived was a flat of sand , strewn with lot of flotsam and jetsam. Marimuthu handed over his sister’s children to his brother-in-law and took his eldest daughter and baby son to a nearby school where people had taken shelter. But there was no sign of his second daughter. Fearing the worst, he asked an acquaintance to look after his kids and, not knowing where to look for his missing daughter, went straight to the house where his wife Sangita was working.

The family searched frantically for most of the day, tramping up and down the streets of the neighborhood, begging the police and neighbors for help until finally, in the afternoon, someone came and told them that she was with a neighbor in another relief camp.

Since then, Marimuthu and his family have spent the past three days in relief camps, though he still manages to perform his duties as night watchman. In Chennai, the relief effort is organized, and everyone is getting food, even though victims allege that some people who weren’t affected by the wave are taking away the food and clothing meant for them. And in any case, no relief package will be enough. “The government has taken the names of the people who have lost their homes and promised some compensation, but we all know that it will be nothing compared with everything we have lost.”

“The big question we must face now is how to rebuild our lives. We have nothing

left with but the clothes we are wearing. We know that no miracle is going to happen. The first thing is to have a roof on top of our heads. Then only we can think of anything else, including the childrens school books and dresses. Now I am praying more earnestly."

His children wake up screaming “The wave is coming” in the night, and will not go near the water. But Marimuthu knows that the family will eventually have to move back to the shoreline slum. “This time I will try to build a house with a brick foundation,” he says grimly, though he must be aware that bricks and mortar didn’t save his neighbors.

In another Chennai slum, on the seaward side of a neighborhood called Srinivaspuram, the fisherfolk were not so lucky. Already, some 80 bodies have been recovered here, and the waves uncover new corpses every day. Along the beach, the only sign that there was once a community of huts here are the wooden poles the former residents have stuck in the sand again to mark out their plots—these people, too, are coming back. The forest of twisted branches stretches as far as you can see down the beach, and if you walk through it, you come upon people squatting on the site of their one-time homes with dazed looks on their faces. Here and there is the remains of someone’s hard-earned concrete floor, broken into slabs of rubble, or a child’s mangled bicycle. Some 2000 homes were destroyed here, displacing as many as 10,000 people. (This is among 75000 homes estimated destroyed in greater Chennai, which means some 300,000 people homeless and in relief camps)

Vasturi, a fifty year old grandmother, saw her daughter and two grandchildren washed away. Perversely, the wave swept her daughter, Saraswati, back to shore alive and unhurt, only to cast the bodies of her three year old daughter Durga Devi and one year old son Vignesh onto the sand a mile away. As I spoke with Vasturi, the bereaved mother Saraswati came to me in a frenzy of grief—like many on the scene—still weeping and tearing her hair three days after the fact. Her thin face was marked with deep, angry scratches that could only have been self inflicted.

Another grandmother, Rani, was the last to see her grandson Jyoti Vishul alive, when the fourth-grader came to her on a break from a sandy soccer game to get a rupee coin to buy a piece of candy. He and the rest of the soccer players were swept away. Some of the others escaped, but Jyoti was drowned. “The fourth grade!” his grandmother says in disbelief. “And he was the tops in his class!” She is pleading with me, like I’m somehow able to judge whether this was fair and can do something about it. Jyoti’s not the only one: at Marina Beach, a wide, flat beach popular with tourists and morning walkers, 20-odd boys engaging in a game of cricket—India’s abiding passion—were all swept away by the first, unexpected wave.

Others will ask me for money. Still others will curse me, some memorably. “You are here to write about our misery,” a woman says with a bitter smile. She has seen this slum colony burn to the ground twice, and seen reporters, too. “Nothing ever changes,” she says. Most, though, beg me to write down the names of the children—especially the children—that they have lost.

Some of these plots are no more than 100 feet from the water’s edge. At a handful, there are signs the former residents were able to save more than the clothes on their backs, and are now drying laundry. Near one, a group of men are neck deep in a hole in the sand, digging. But it is not another body. They are struggling to unearth a fishing net. A few paces on, a child has built a sand castle. Life goes on.

END

after the pedestrian horn

Some readers may remember my unheralded invention, the pedestrian horn, which faded into obscurity after I learned that Delhi drivers use the horn as if it were a forcefield, not to sound a warning. Well, I have another invention -- or one that is needed anyway: A stoplight that burns up the engines of vehicles that ignore the various complexities of red lights and green arrows, or simply electrocutes the drivers. Perhaps you'll think that's a bit extreme. But try driving through the intersections in my GKII - CR Park neighborhood during rush hour, and you'll soon come to agree with me. What is the point of a stop light that tells those who need to make a right turn (me) when they can go with a green arrow if the others simply bull their way through until they achieve a giant snarl that takes hours to unravel (if some good Samaritan decides to direct traffic). Why not just put a girl in a bikini in the middle of the road with two red flags, like in some drag racing flick? As soon as she drops the flags, the demolition derby begins. Another pet peeve is the blinking red light. Do these things serve any purpose? I think I'm the only person in the country who knows that it is meant to signify to drivers that they are to come to a complete stop, look both ways, and then proceed through the intersection if nothing is coming. Everybody else seems to think it means "every man for himself." Wait! I guess they do have the red flag system! Only they've electrified it, and left out the girl in the bikini. Well, I can't say I approve of that innovation.

the curse of red ink

Former cabinet minister Arun Shourie pulls back the curtain on India's bureaucracy in his new book "Governance, and the sclerosis that has set in," writes Jason Overdorf in Newsweek International.

the poor and the rich

Vir Sanghvi--editor of the Hindustan Times and perhaps India's only columnist worth reading--this week takes issue with Time Asia's cover story on India in his regular column Counterpoint ("India's Parallel Universes" HT Dec. 5 2004--available online only to subscribers). While to some degree he points out the obvious (following Time's lead), Sanghvi makes some funny observations about Time's conclusions.

For example, he draws attention to the magazine's use of Sahara founder Subroto Roy as evidence that India's super rich have something more than profligate spending to offer the country, quotiing the magazine's statement that Sahara "represents a powerful case for the way in which money can buttress India's traditions." Vir's response: "(Really?)" I'd say that's a good one-eyebrow-raised withering if I've ever read one. My question is: what traditions are we talking about here? Feudalism - with the lord charitably funding marriages for a few vassals alongside family nuptials (in suitably lesser style, of course)? Grand traditions like dowry? This is a laughable observation if I've ever heard one.

His eyebrow still raised, Sanghvi also raises a question that many Indian journalists (and by extension, foreign correspondents) have long asked. "One day," he writes, "somebody will have to explain to an economic dunderhead like me how Subroto Roy manages to keep on spending so much money even though there are no obviously profitable ventures visible to non-business minded laymen like myself."

Funnier still is Sanghvi's subtle lampooning of Time's conclusion that Indians find rich people inspirational and aspirational. He writes this is "a sentiment supported by three quotes. One is from Simi Garewal..., one is from columnist Swapan Dasgupata, who says "people like Subroto Roy 'let us believe we can make it, that India can make it...' [Make what? Ambi valley?] and one from a guest at one of Vijay Mallya's parties.

Keep up the good work, Vir.