Desicritics Category: Media: Magazines

A Weekend With Madhu Kishwar

Siddhartha Shome — Mon, 28 Apr 2008 00:18:28 EDT

Madhu Kishwar, founder of Manushi, an eminent Indian social activist, and a truly extraordinary person was in the San Francisco Bay Area a few days ago. I had the opportunity to attend a talk that she gave at Stanford, and also have more informal discussions with her over a lunch and a dinner. It was a wonderful experience.

I have long been an admirer of Ms. Kishwar’s work and I’ve been reading her essays for many years. Now that I have met her in person, I can say that she is also a very warm and friendly human being.

I first came to know of Ms. Kishwar when, some ten years or so ago, I read some of her writing on Indian women’s issues. I found her observations deeply insightful, nuanced and profound. As far as I am concerned, Ms. Kishwar’s series of essays (here’s one) on dowry and related issues is some of the best writing I have ever come across on Indian women’s issues. Here is a quote from her.

It has become politically fashionable to attribute all forms of violence and discrimination against women, including female infanticide and female foeticide to the economic burden of dowry that a daughter is said to represent.

Dowry requirements are used as another excuse for considering daughters a burden. The anti-dowry movement, by limiting itself to the constant repetition of ‘dowry abolition’ as a panacea for women’s empowerment and as the primary strategy for ending their oppression, has only helped give further legitimacy to the conventional belief that daughters are an economic liability.

We need to combat the culture of disinheritance if we wish to effectively combat the growing hold of dowry culture.

Though, in my opinion, some of Ms. Kishwar’s best work has been on women’s issues, she has also worked on and written about a myriad other social issues - on communal violence, Kashmir, governance, globalization, farm policy, stifling laws and regulations, and so on. On most of these issues I have found her views to be sensible, and in many cases, very close to my own point of view (rather, I found that my own views were close to hers).

I fondly recall an incident from a couple of years ago. I had written an article severely critical of the Narmada Bachao Andolan (the NBA, the movement opposed to building a dam across the Narmada River). My article was drawing quite a lot of flak from various NBA supporters. As luck would have it, just around that time, Ms. Kishwar came out with her own article criticizing the NBA, which largely validated my own stance.

This is not to say that I agree with Ms. Kishwar on everything. Ms. Kishwar is an unabashed admirer of Mahatma Gandhi. I don’t quite agree with her on this. I greatly admire Gandhi’s non-violence, his humanity, his leadership of the Indian independence movement, and the dignity and self-respect he engendered among so many Indians. However, I have serious reservations about Gandhi’s rejection of modernity and his denunciation of the scientific-technological world-view (for my views on Gandhi, see this).

Ms. Kishwar also appears to hold the view that pre-modern pre-British India was a land of milk-and-honey, a land of all-round prosperity and contentment, conceptually very similar to Gandhi’s views expressed in Hind Swaraj. I disagree. I see the pre-modern pre-British India as a civilization in precipitous decline, one that had lost its vitality and capacity for internal renewal. I agree with author V.S. Naipaul, who says, “the Indian system [in 1857] ... has come to the end of its possibilities, ... that the India that will come into being at the end of the period of British rule will be better educated, more creative and full of possibility than the India of a century before”.

On the whole, it appears that while I have some disagreements with Ms. Kishwar on how we interpret the past, I agree with her on almost everything she has to say about the present.

In recent years Ms. Kishwar has been working with people who make a living in the informal sector in Delhi, people such as cycle-rickshaw pullers, hawkers, vendors, etc. The talk she gave in Stanford was on this topic.

Consider the case of cycle-rickshaws in Delhi. The law holds that no person shall be allowed to ply a cyle-rickshaw unless he himself is the licensed owner of the rickshaw, and also stipulates that no person shall be granted more than one such license. However, most rickshaw-pullers in Delhi are newly arrived migrants from villages, who have neither the money, nor the desire to buy a rickshaw outright. Most rickshaw owners are themselves enterprising ex-rickshaw-pullers who, through dint of hard work over the years, have come to own a fleet of rickshaws. As a result, almost all the rickshaws on Delhi’s streets are “illegal”. So rickshaw pullers and owners, who are after all providing a legitimate service for which there is a legitimate demand, are forced to pay all kinds of bribes to various officials, just in order to carry on with their livelihoods.

Ms. Kishwar asks a question: suppose similarly restrictive laws were applicable to say cars or aircraft? Suppose, the law stipulated that a person can drive a car or pilot an aircraft only if he owns the vehicle, would it make sense? Why should cycle-rickshaws be treated so differently? We all applaud the business success of, say, Jet Airways when they grow their fleet and expand their network. A migrant from a village who comes pennyless to Delhi, becomes a rickshaw puller, and then grows his business to a fleet of rickshaws, is no less entrepreneurial than the executives at Jet Airways. But far from receiving accolades for building a successful business and creating job opportunities, this entrepreneur is hounded by the police and city administrators and is forced to shoulder the huge cost of arbitrary bribes.

Similarly irrational and restrictive laws apply to most other businesses in the informal economy. In recent years, Ms. Kishwar and Manushi have been involved in pilot project in a hawker market in Delhi (read Ms. Kishwar’s article about it here). This project aims to demonstrate what can be achieved by legalizing the status of street vendors.

On one hand this effort has been has been an enormous success. The hawkers have been very cooperative and, together with Manushi, they have indeed converted the area into a clean, attractive, and well-functioning marketplace. On the other hand, this very success has caused problems. Legalization has meant that corrupt officials and the local mafia have not been able to extort money; and the transformation of a slum-like area to a well-developed market has meant that market value of each stall has gone up tremendously, making the stalls targets of the mafia. The hawkers and Manushi activists have been subjected to continuous harassment and threats of violence. Eventually, after a series of life-threatening attacks on Manushi activists and Ms. Kishwar herself, she is now forced to live with round-the-clock police security.

Ms Kishwar’s work with rickshaw-pullers, hawkers, etc., is driven by the foundational belief that poverty is an unnatural condition for human beings, and given half a chance, the poor will be able to overcome poverty themselves through their own enterprise and hard work. In other words, Ms. Kishwar believes that the key to fighting poverty lies in unleashing the talents and energies of the poor that have been kept suppressed by a web of stifling laws and regulations.

It was rather inspiring to hear Ms. Kishwar declare that there is an entrepreneur in every human being - all that is needed is a chance to succeed. Asked what she thoughts would happen to hawkers and street vendors in India if multinationals like Wal-Mart enter the scene, Ms. Kishwar replied that she was not worried. She is of the opinion that as long as there is a level playing field (i.e., if hawkers/vendors don’t have pay a huge overhead in the form of bribes, etc.) they will be able to compete effectively with Wal-Mart, or will at least find niches where they will be able to thrive.

Ms. Kishwar is a strong proponent of economic liberalization for the poor. She points out that liberalization of the Indian economy has given a massive boost to the corporate sector and many Indian companies have now become globally competitive. She points out, however, that liberalization has never reached the poor. In the informal sector, which employs the vast majority of the Indian population, the License Raj still rules, accompanied by rampant corruption. This stifles initiative and enterprise, and perpetuates poverty.

One particularly fascinating aspect that I have noticed in Ms. Kishwar’s positions on various issues is her propensity to take a nuanced and independent stand, taking practical matters into account, rather than a stark black-or-white stand. This is a quality that is unfortunately uncommon in today’s world.

Consider, for example, the issue of multinationals coming to India. There is a strong pro-multinational business lobby that says that multinationals are the best thing that ever happened. At the other extreme there are strongly anti-multinational groups, such as the World Social Forum, who say that multinationals and corporates are the source of all the world’s evil. Ms. Kishwar takes the nuanced view that multinationals are not the solution to all our problems, nor the source of all evil; but economic liberalization, which allows multinationals to operate, is good for all, and should be extended to the poor.

So independent is Ms. Kishwar in her thinking that she states that she refuses to subscribe to any ‘isms’; so much so that she is well known for her essay “why I do not call myself a feminist”. Unfortunately, in today’s world of 20-second TV soundbites, thoughtful and nuanced voices such as Ms. Kishwar’s tend to be crowded out by extreme black-or-white views on most issues.

An Appeal

After being in publication for many years, and after having carved out a special niche for itself, Manushi has now ceased publication because of lack of funds. Plans are afoot to restart publication of Manushi. I, as well as some others, who met Ms. Kishwar during her stay in the U.S. have offered to help out. If you can help Manushi - either financially or otherwise - please do so.

Media Review: Damazine - A Literary Journal From Damascus, Syria

temporal — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 13:17:26 EST

I came across a new literary journal in English, Damazine, that has just come out of Damascus, Syria. Its aim is to "become the treasure house for quality literature related to the Muslim world."

The Editor-in-Chief for this quarterly is Ms. Serene Taleb-Agha, 34, engineer, fiction writer, mother of three who spent the first 30 years in the U.S. and the last 4 years in Damascus, Syria.

I have seen a few journals and magazines appear with a burst of enthusiasm, survive on momentum and then fizzle out. Anyone remembers Moonsoon? I hope Damazine proves to be an exception. When I questioned her over why a new journal she said:

I started the journal because I didn’t feel there were enough publishing venues for Muslims writing literature, and the few that exist tend to encourage overly didactic writing focused on Islamic beliefs and worship. I believe Muslims have something unique to say about everything under the sun, and we need a place to say it.

Will this be open only to Muslims?

Damazine does publish non-Muslim authors too if the works are relevant to the Muslim world. First, I don’t make it a practice to ask my contributors their religion, and second, sympathetic non-Muslims often have their own valuable ways of describing our world.

In the Winter 2008 Issue there are three stories, an essay and five poems. Contributors came in from the U.K., the U.S., India, Malaysia and Pakistan. I would refrain from commenting on content, quality and direction in detail until we see at least three or four issues.

For those interested in contributing to this journal, you can find further information here

The Marathi Manoos versus the Thackeray Brand

Aditi Nadkarni — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 11:22:53 EST

On reading Anuradha Goyal's recent article on Desicritics titled Dear Marathi Manoos Thackerays I thought it might be timely to dissociate the identity of the long suffering "Marathi Manoos" from the Thackerays.

Of all the available discussions in the blogosphere, the one I found most interesting about the current Thackeray circus in media was a report by CNN-IBN where Raj Thackeray's mother-in-law claims support for Raj's crusade in the same breath as voicing her concern for Raj Thackeray's son's impending SSC exams. It is ironic that while Raj Thackeray seems to be rallying for the "Marathi Manoos", the "Marathi Manoos" is probably at home doing what Raj Thackeray should be: supporting his son during the notoriously hectic SSCs.

Barring one reported death in Maharashtra and a few customary automobile-burning incidents, the actual city of Mumbai where all Shiv Sena associated drama usually unfolds, was uncharacteristically calm. I am both proud and impressed. The unemployed youth who usually carried out the Sena's antics seem to be more suitably employed at the city's call centers or at swanky malls in upper class neighbourhoods. The country as a whole is moving forward and as part of the nation's commercial capital, these young people probably do not want to be left behind executing the schemes of jingoists who just happen to have political power.

While one Thackeray is engaging in a ridiculous anti-North Indian rhetoric, the other, very senior Thackeray in a laughable attempt at re-terrorizing the city, is now kicking a fit over Valentines' day celebrations. People will exchange Hallmark and Archie's cards, a few may throw a party to rejuvenate schedules lost in the city's bustle and who knows some lovestruck souls may even buy one of those red heart shaped balloons sold at traffic lights. And this, says Mr.Thackeray, will affect our Hindu culture. If we are to believe Mr. Thackeray, our ancient civilization is under serious threat from none other than St. Valentine. Now if only his idea of protest was to not buy the heart shaped balloon, we could have all heaved a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, what Mr.Thackeray does not realize is that the violent rampages he sends his lads out on every once a while are probably more of a threat to the Hindu preachings of non-violence than heart shaped balloons and Hallmark cards will ever be.

It is time to notice however that in recent years the sometimes anti-Muslim, sometimes anti-non-Maharashtrian rhetoric propagated by the Sena is starting to fall on deaf ears and evoking a lukewarm response from a city that now wants to move ahead. People who had once supported the Sena's "Marathi Manoos Jaaga Ho" ("Wake Up Marathi Man") rallies now have sheepishly realized that the Sena has no idea who the Marathi Man really is. Very simply, there is a divide of class and caste under the supposed "Marathi Manus" label itself. Raj Thackeray had once brought with his dynamic youth following, hopes of a new, evolved political party in Maharashtra and instead he too has jumped on the extremist bandwagon. He doesn't realize that the "Marathi Manoos" himself no longer has a singular identity separate from that of his beloved city. This real "Marathi Manoos" does not want skirmishes over Valentine's day and Chath Pooja by North Indians. Like any other conscientious, law abiding Indian, he too wants a decent education for his children and a steady occupation to fund his retirement. In fact, the violence that Thackerays' irresponsible words unleash into the city, robs this weary Marathi Manoos of his peace and does nothing for him or for any other of the city's residents.

The truth is that while the Shiv Sena is trying to rouse the Marathis, the actual Marathi Manoos (Marathi Man) lost sleep a while ago. He first woke up to the Sena's absurd and obsessive attempts at changing the names of roads, suburbs and airports to their original, pre-British, Marathi titles. In his alert wakefulness he also noticed that the Sena somehow forgot to change the very anglicized, "Thackeray" to "Thakray". Since then, the "Marathi Manoos" with the rest of Mumbai residents has been sitting wide-awake, at the edge of his seat, on tenterhooks watching in dismay the Sena's regressive demonstrations, hearing with disbelief Balasaheb's loud claims of idolizing Hitler and suffering in silence the damning economic consequences of senseless city bandhs and violent morchas. These very Thackerays who attack harmless Valentine's Day parties to oppose "Western" influences had once organized a Michael Jackson concert in Bombay that halted traffic and city functioning for days! Apparently Jacko's thrusting pelvis apparently wasn't as threatening to "Hinduism" as heart shaped balloons and Valentine's Day parties.

I would like to add that the real power in Mumbai has and always will rest with the city's youth. Whenever the students have come out and made their voices heard, the law enforcement and the city officials have found it necessary to take a stand. If the Mumbaikers/Bombayites do not want the embarassment of having their city's name be associated with a regressive, fascist school of thought in the 21st century then it is time for the college crowd to do more than just gather around and pass time at local Cafe Coffee Days. If anything, the Marathi Manoos should now stand up only to resist the Sena's claims of being his self-proclaimed representative.

For years, we, the residents of Mumbai have lived like a family with people from all over the nation. The cultural aptitude and tolerance bestowed by the rich experience of having lived in this indiscriminate potpourri come handy today for my life as an immigrant in a foreign country. So to me, when the Thackerays question this indomitable spirit of the city, it only goes to show that their world is really very small - as is the extent of their power.

What Differentiates Journalists and Bloggers - Money?

Dr Bhaskar Dasgupta — Sun, 27 Jan 2008 00:59:38 EST

A pressing issue seems to be agitating many people who are in the publishing business. There seem to be two camps, the first camp is the journalist camp and the second seems to be the bloggers. And boyo, do these two camps fight or do they? They fight over who is right and who is wrong, who is going to survive and who is going to die. But for what its worth, here is my take on this rather interesting debate.

Let us define some terms which will be used in this essay. There is little agreement about even these common words. A journalist can be a reporter who writes for a journal but also a person who keeps a journal or a diary, which may or may not be published. A blogger is a person who blogs (writes) about his thoughts on various topics in an online medium. A reporter is usually employed by a media house to report on daily or periodic going ons in the world. This reporting can be online, radio, TV, magazine, newspaper, etc. The reporter is also required or may create a blog or further discuss his/her story online.

Confused? Let me carry on, What about an essayist? Somebody who writes an essay which is usually longer than 800 words (the sort of word count which generally is more than a news story but is less than an essay which can be anything more than 1.500 words or upwards). How about a pamphleteer? It is a word which is not usually used that much these days, but it is also a type of writing on a particular topic. How about a columnist? A columnist is a person who usually has a brand name, writes on some particular topic on a regular basis in a newspaper, magazine, online and/or in print.

What about an author who can write fiction as well as non-fiction? So what’s the boundary between fiction and non-fiction? Very confused boundary indeed. Say a reporter is trying to explain the settings of a particular event such as the state of the nation address by the US President, George Bush. And he talks about “the swirling wintry blowing snow” which he uses as a metaphor to describe the challenges facing the US president. Now what is fiction and what isn’t? I strongly recommend this book which talks about the difficulties that a poet faces in a newspaper. ( W. Dale Nelson. Gin before Breakfast: The Dilemma of the Poet in the Newsroom. Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 2007).

Do you see where I am going with this as to how difficult it is to categorize people? How about commentators? People who comment on particular aspects? Say a cricket match? Or the results from a conference? Or following a political campaign? Now the only difference I can see is that the person could be commenting online, on radio, on TV, in a newspaper, in a newspaper online, real-time. Now I have thoroughly managed to confuse myself. The only common thing that I can see in all these definitions is that they write for some medium with some expectation of being read. So no, I am not clear about the definitions at all.

Let me expose my personal biases. For what it's worth, I have been on both sides of the fence, and still am. A purist would say that I am not, I am still writing op-eds, so that's not pure journalism, but then which reporter does not write facts with a bias or which columnist does not opine with some facts? Then there is the other debate around reporters and historians and I straddle that fence as well. Goodness, all that straddling fences and my backside is becoming numb. Blogging is something that I have recently picked up and it is an interesting experiment that I have been engaging in, but more about that later on. I also write essays, magazine articles, academic papers, commercial papers and have reported sometimes on certain events. Oh! I am also planning on writing some books. So I am afraid the fence is now dangerously looking like a bed of nails, well, with my heritage, I should be perfectly comfortable, no?

While debating this topic with a journalist friend, the discussion suddenly heated up, and she said that journalism requires passion and that I do not have this passion and more importantly I would not understand this passion. This puzzled me, what exactly is this passion and why is this passion different? And why on earth can I not understand or appreciate it? I write about terrorism, history, military science, politics, children, humour, media, business, technology, etc. etc. Now I don't have a passion for dung beetles, so I do not write about them. I also have a very small readership and I do not charge them to read me, but I am very grateful to them for devoting time to read my twitterings!

Is this passion a desire to report facts? Then I have that. Is this passion to communicate? I would be a poor teacher and writer if I did not have the desire to communicate. Is this a passion to search for facts? Well, I think I do like to check and read up on facts. Me and my sister spend hours debating and delving into the strangest things which nobody else seems to understand or care for. Now besides making us strange, it also makes us passionate. Or is this passion solely restricted to people who work as newspaper reporters? Do TV people not have this passion? How about radio people? How about people who write for charities? Or how about special investigators who investigate war crimes or development agencies who help in the development of famine stricken or medical problem infested areas? Or does this relate to the use of printers' ink, but surely the use of printers ink is sort of outdated anyway. Sniffing glue I have heard, but sniffing printers ink? How about Rudyard Kipling who is famous for his books and stories, but was also a great journalist of his time?

So you might well ask, what DO I think about the future of the media? Well, I have written about this before. Also, here's a classic debate about bloggers and journalists. At a recent Business Week Conference , I heard one of their senior editors say that the line is blurring between the journalists and bloggers. Previously, a story would be filed and they would forget about it. But now, they are expected to defend their stories online in a rollicking debate. So where does one draw the line? And if I am submitting my blog entries to a site like DesiCritics which has an editorial process, is that site a news-site or a bloggers site or what? Life is changing, my friends!

I am also not so sure about this passion for facts. In a debate about MEMRI (I already talked about how none of the media outlets are actually thought to be totally fair and balanced). Even the doughty BBC frequently gets accused of getting its world famous journalistic independence and “lean” wrong. Somebody once did an analysis of the political leanings of the BBC group on Facebook and found that the number of left liberals is vastly and overwhelmingly greater than the conservatives. Take Middle East Reporting for example, whether you are talking about MEMRI, Jerusalem Post, NY Times, CNN, FOX, BBC or Al Ahram, each and every one of these media outlets have made spectacular howlers in reporting.

I mean, when you have a mainstream media outlet publishing howlers such as saying that President Sarkozy of France is a Zionist agent, then one seriously wonders. So while both bloggers and journalists go for facts and figures, both make mistakes and while one has an editorial process to trap mistakes, the line is blurring as bloggers may and do get some comments and feedback about obvious mistakes and different opinions (such as my post about the EU Budget. Where is this desire for facts and freedom of speech when the US Media actively collaborates with the US Government to suppress facts in the name of national security ( which I can understand, btw)?

Bill Keller, executive editor, New York Times, delivering the 2008 Memorial lecture at the Chatham House in London talked more about the challenges facing journalism from new media and Web 2.0, how they have so many reporters on the ground in Iraq and along with the strong sense of standards, that distinguishes between reporters and bloggers. Well, agreed. But how come that this does not explain how most of the reportage which we have recently started to see like Typhoon Sidr, Glasgow and 9/11 Terrorist Attack and the Christmas Tsunami were from bloggers who were using their blog sites, video cameras, YouTube and even uploading into mainstream media sites such as BBC? He talks about how Google never reported from a riot or never stood in the middle of a tsunami. Well, neither did he nor his band of intrepid men. So he isn’t so right about the reporters on the ground bit and not so right about the standards bit (he himself admitted for example that his newspaper ignored the Holocaust as it was happening!!) so I am not very sure what is the difference he is claiming.

Now that I have come to the end, I am even more confused about the difference. Is it the money? I mean, if you get paid and received a fixed salary to write stories, do you become a journalist? How about people who make money out of writing stories online such as through AdSense or some other advertising medium? Or those who are independently wealthy and do not need the money but write as a second career? I just had an amusing thought. Would the ancient world’s town crier and the stone column carver have had a similar debate three centuries ago? So no, this debate is facile, the mediums are changing, the fact remains is that we are all communicating and being social animals. To concentrate on the means of communicating to the exclusion of the content is wrong and misguided.

All this to be taken with a grain of piquant salt!

Technorati Tags: Journalism , Internet

Is The Guardian Seeing Pink Elephants?

Aditi Nadkarni — Wed, 16 Jan 2008 01:20:13 EST

Raised in one of the most liberal environments that a child could ask for, I grew up not being overtly conscious of my religious sensitivities and consider myself quite open to cultural critique. Even now as an immigrant, faced with intensely curious examination, I have always been able to address some of the more blatantly ignorant questions about Hinduism with a calm front, a straight face and the kind of dignity which only tolerance can bestow. Despite my allowances, there are times, I admit, when my undisturbed exterior of leniency leaves me seething from within. In recent times I have finally come to realize when and how my usually libertarian stance towards religious scrutiny takes a sudden curb towards a rigid and unforgiving disposition.

A recent encounter over the internet has caused me to conclude that my own intolerance towards ignorance and disregard for other religions boils over when it is a popular media form that is propagating the balmy inaccuracies and misinformation. Those in media, I firmly believe, should have the sense of responsibility to know the extent of their outreach. Ignorance is bliss for only those who indulge in it. Which makes it inexcusable when a media form chooses to propagate ignorance.

I come out of my two-month hiatus from DC today and step out from under the tightening noose of work schedule to vehemently criticize "an excerpt" by Chris Madigan that appeared in this month's Guardian Unlimited. Following is the discussed abstract that may leave the culturally savvy readers, completely incredulous and the religiously sensitive ones among us foaming at the mouth:

"Ganesh has always been non-Hindus' favourite Hindu deity, as he is most commonly represented in the incarnation of a jolly rotund elephant boy. He is particularly revered by the gay community in Mumbai during his festival in September, because he represents the removal of obstacles – and it's an occasion for them to express themselves as idols are plunged into the sea at Chowpatty beach. Self-expression for gay Mumbai usually comes – as it does at Mardi Gras and Pride parades worldwide - in the form of outrageous outfits and pounding disco. Only here, the pink pop songs are given a Bollywood cover version treatment."

Mr.Madigan has somehow managed to find a connection between Ganesh Chaturthi and get this, homosexuality. Why, you ask? Apparently, Mr.Madigan, inspite of his credentials and extensive travel history, has a relatively narrow outlook when it comes to the use of the color pink. A picture of Ganesh Chaturthi celebrations accompanies this journalistic piece and is titled "The Pink Parade". Now if this casual connection were to be made in context of lets say films such as Pink Panther or Pink Cadillac, we could've all mustered at least a reluctant laugh at the sickeningly stereotypical humor in this association. However, Mr.Madigan chooses to make this far-fetched connection within the context of a Hindu god merely because the deity in question wears colorful garments and a pink crown. Literacy and even education, I now sadly infer, do not confer cultural sensibility. Mind you, I make this statement not against the alleged homosexuality association but in objection to the false and utterly misleading information being peddled in a unnecessary attempt to sell Mumbai's travel potential.

Picking September as the month to travel to Mumbai (Bombay), India, Mr.Madigan, explains how Ganesh Chaturthi is comparable to Mardi Gras and Gay Pride Parades. And yet, apart from the pink turbans and dhotis worn by the beloved Hindu diety, nothing about the religious festivities of Ganesh Chaturthi even remotely approaches the ambiance of a gay pride parade. While the Ganesh Chaturthi festival can be a culturally uplifting and festive experience for any visitor to India, it most definitely does not need to be marketed as a gay pride parade.

Mr.Madigan's ignorance itself is quite disturbing and yet what is even more reprehensible is The Guardian's complete lack of censorship when it comes to a piece that is not just hurtful towards religious sentiments but is deceptive information. Especially since "The Guardian's editorial code" unequivocally states the following:

"A newspaper's primary office is the gathering of news. At the peril of its soul it must see that the supply is not tainted."

It is at times such as these that I wonder what role media actually plays in confirming or denouncing our biases, false prejudices and untrue generalizations. If a popular online news source such as the The Guardian can provide a platform for such a grave cultural misrepresentation, one wonders how educational our search engine exploits over the internet truly are.

As for Mr.Madigan, it may be interesting to note that the euphemistic phrase "Seeing pink elephants" describes drunken hallucinations resulting from alcohol withdrawal.

The State that is Bihar

Abhinandan Mishra — Tue, 1 Jan 2008 00:12:42 EST

We have time and again read and heard the the concept of Prejudiced reporting. Those who have gone through this week's Tehelka magazine ( December 29, 2007) would have surely read the article “Two years On, no new deal” on the state of governance in Bihar by Tehelka’s Bihar correspondent. And one would not find a better example of ‘prejudiced reporting’ than the above mentioned article.

Those who are not aware of the ground realities in Bihar are sure to rise in unison and call for the rolling of Nitish ‘s head after reading Tehelka’s write up. The writer has left no further scope for criticizing Nitish Kumar-led JD (U) government and he has through manipulative use of facts turned every work of progress and development that has been taken up by Nitish into that of misdeed.

The article says that the ‘people of Bihar are wondering whether they did the right thing in electing Nitish as a CM’? The writer has failed to answer on what is the parameter that he has has used while constituting ‘the people of Bihar’ in the present case.

The writer has embarked on a “feel bad” drive while criticizing the state government and made sure that by the end of the article people start feeling that “Nitish is the worst thing that has happened to Bihar”.

It would have been better if the writer had acknowledged the efforts that are being taken up by Nitish to improve the situation Bihar which has been result of 15 years of ‘‘susasan’’ by RJD. (pun intended)

It has been only two years since the JD(U) assumed power in Bihar. The Correspondent at one place says that Nitish has formed commissions after commissions to implement policies.and to conduct inquiries into the various social and legal misdeeds of the previous state government. What else he expects? Does he expects that all mis-adventures of the previous government should be ignored?

For the records one of the commission was on the 1989-90 Bhagalpur riots. The Justice N N Singh Commission of Inquiry which was constituted in February 2006 recommended that victims of the 1989-90 Bhagalpur riots should be compensated on par with those of the 1984 anti-Sikh riots.

Later after the JD(U) came into power a Bihar court sentenced Kameshwar Yadav, the prime accused to rigorous life imprisonment. The police had earlier closed the case against Yadav, citing lack of evidence. In fact, he was later given a citation for maintaining communal harmony by the state police in 2004 when the state was ruled by the Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD) government of Rabri Devi.
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Chief Minister Nitish Kumar last year ordered a fresh probe into the 27 riots cases that were closed by police citing lack of evidence. So much for bad governance.

Later the writer says that although the crime rate has gone down in the state after the new government yet crime committed has increased. He states that this is due to the fact that the police machinery has been told not to register cases. If this arguments has any substance then I am sure that the previous government also had enough ‘clout’ over the police to stop them from registering cases. But under the RJD rule both the crime rate as well as crimes committed increased.

The writer further quotes a PUCL worker to substantiate his claim. With due respect it is illogical to expect that a human rights activist will say that all’s well in the state. Better choice would have been a local trader or a local journalist.

The biasness continues to gain strength as we turn the pages. The magazine goes on to criticize Nitish Kumar on the ground that by setting up speedy trial courts he is targeting his political adversaries. They further say that the CM is targeting leaders from particular castes. One of the so called ‘target’ was Anand Mohan , a JD(U) leader and a former MP. He was ‘targeted’ by Nitish for inciting a mob to lynch the then district magistrate of Gopalganj, Krishnaiah 13 years ago.

Then the magazine dwells on the issues of development. The appointment of 3.12 lakhs of teacher comes up ; but even in this case Nitish earns negative input. He uses this number to point out that only 1 lakh post of policeman and engineer have been filled up till now. Nobody not even a CM possesses a magic-wand these days and expecting him to bring the golden days of patliputra back in a short period of 2 years is a bit too much.

The most childish of the magazine claims is embedded in the first paragraph of the article. The writer says that Nitish and company are worried after around 2 lakh disenchanted people turned up for a “Chetavni rally’ of Lalu yadav.

Those who were in Patna at that time will tell that these rallyist were not the ‘dis-enchanted lot’ and by no stretch of imagination they numbered 2 lakhs. As a matter of fact that rally was supposed to go on till 5 PM but when the RJD leaders saw the sparse crowd they decided that it was in their best interest to windup the rally by 2 PM but not before Laluji dedicated his two sons to the service of the nation.

Most of the rallyists were composed of rural people who came in buses and tractors, not because they wanted a change in the state but because it was better to earn some bucks and have a good time in the city rather than idling away a Sunday afternoon.

Quoting opposition leaders and local activist for describing two years rule may give a picture but it will not be a true and complete picture.

I have time and again reiterated that a mess that took 15 years to be done cannot be undone in 2 years. At least Nitish is trying and putting efforts to put things back on track. Let us save our critiques for 3 more years and till then let Nitish do his job and let Bihar live in peace for the state has already earned more than its share of bad name.

Magazine Review: Almost Island - The Concept of the New

Aliskandar — Fri, 23 Nov 2007 11:30:39 EST

A pigeon has brought this letter to you. You cannot ask any questions of it, but you can try and guess to whom this letter, without a name, without an address, has been written.

A new literary journal, edited by Sharmistha Mohanty and Vivek Narayanan just came out, Almost Island. It is a high concept artsy affair, fairly nice to look at, and delivers a whole set of interesting prose pieces to read in the debut issue, although it promises poetry and interviews in issues to come.

To make things more juicy, there is a kind of editorial schizophrenia in it as well. An inveterate preface reader from way back, I immediately perused Mohanty's editorial. Now one can only assume that a tremendous amount of thought went into it - it is the first editorial of the first issue. I can hardly imagine a more likely opportunity for literary self-scrutinizing than this.

It doesn't disappoint - the monsoon obligingly wreaks destruction on the city of Bombay, bringing with it - you'll never guess - new life. I, too, was surprised by this metaphysical turn of events, but apparently that's how it works: first nature brings death and then it brings rebirth! But seriously, it is a dark and stormy editorial. I have no problem with such things. It is certainly better than beginning with a long, extended metaphor based around the various ingredients that go into mango pickle, for example, a literary trope which tempts unwary exoticizers into its sticky, sentimental embrace with an alarming frequency.

The monsoon bit is fine - though I wish Delhi had had one this year - but my in-built theory curmudgeon widget began to flash red at this:

In India today and in many parts of the world, there is a false new as well. This is a writing where information does all the work, so it can hide the depletion of thought and feeling which is behind it. I would like to speak of the genuinely new as something which allows unknown connections to arise in the relationships between things; which has abandoned something, and so made space for the new to enter; and which is above all new because it has risen from inside the self.

Usually my eyes would glaze over while reading this stuff, but unfortunately I had just finished a strong cup of coffee and was briefly alert. All those years of training finally, albeit involuntarily, paid off and sent up red flags: what does this concept of the "new" imply?

The part that bothers me the most is the one that differentiates a special, superior form of "newness" as something that "has risen inside the self." I was immediately, and unpleasantly, reminded of the romanticizing subjectivity that plagues so much novelizing these days--the anxiety behind this attempt to demarcate a special pure, interior form of novelty depressed me and I almost gave up. However, driven by forces that were outside my self, I clicked on "next" and read on.

Almost Island would like to be concerned with writing which does not have a purpose outside itself. In times where information is seen as revelation, Almost Island would like to publish work which is in no way sociological, or a travel guide to a foreign culture, or a substitute for historical or anthropological knowledge. Literature seeks wholeness, not fragmentation, and information is never whole. Almost Island will seek work which is philosophical, internal, individual. It will seek work which either threatens, confronts or bypasses the marketplace by its depth and seriousness and form. This market is not one where the seller faces the buyer, both having walked miles, a once a week give and take of goods, honour, and guile.

Literature seeks wholeness, not fragmentation and information is never whole. Literature is too fastidious to transact with the world. Like a snot, it probably sends out a servant to buy the vegetables. I suppose it must be something contrary, broken and fragmented in me--or whatever swirling configurations of physical motes, rehashed memes, puffs of emotional tempests in teapots, and lustful yearnings that together currently conspire to fool me into believing that such a thing exists in the first place and is somehow identical with the one that went to bed last night after a stiff peg of Old Monk with soda--but this retreat into a self-contained, information-free, world of wholes is something that will never appeal to me.

Suffice it to say: no one at Almost Island is knocking down my door, looking for informationless prose (but if they do, I know how to fake it!). It is as hard to disagree with the ideas of self and world that structure this editorial as it is to argue with a parent who tells you that their child is really and truly special and unique, just like them. If you ever find yourself having this conversation, nod, smile and seek help. Then perhaps write about it in your sad, self-contained, readerless blog.

The wrenching emotional power of Sandhya Suri's film, I For India, derives in large part from its sympathetic depiction of the ultimately quixotic, tragic and impossible nature of this sort of misplaced quest for authentic interior wholeness. The longings evinced by Sharmistha Mohanty in her programmatic editorial would make a fit subject for a similar treatment, deftly and gently transformed into - information.

It was with some relief that I soldiered on over to the content that interested me most in this first issue - a set of three prose stories by members of the pathbreaking Cybermohalla collective, a project done in association with SARAI and Ankur. Its inclusion here comes as no surprise - the associate editor of Almost Island, Vivek Narayanan, is a key collaborator in Cybermohalla. I can only assume that it is his voice we hear in an editorial introduction to the three pieces by young Cybermohalla participants. In it he quietly, and productively, calls into question the romantic self-identity that Mohanty threatens her readers with at the outset.

He describes the backgrounds of the three authors--Jaanu Nagar, Yashoda Singh, and Rakesh Khairalia:

They are children of autorickshaw drivers, tailors, embroiderers. Their parents have almost all arrived here from the rural areas, and set up homes in colonies which are often deemed illegal and demolished. Many of these young men and women have dropped out of school in order to work, or because they could not clear their exams. I am here to talk to them about their texts, which I deeply admire.

Narayanan writes this about the experience of going to interview them:

Why is it, I ask them, that the texts they write are not usually narratives, even though what they see in films and on television is inexorably driven by the idea of a “story?” How is it that these texts are so open? Niloufer, Rakesh, Jaanu, Azra, Lakhmi, Shahana and many more. There are about twenty of us here this morning. They think for a few moments. They say, when we write there is no weight of presentation within us, like there is in a Bollywood film. We are free of that.

There is an announcement on a loudspeaker. It is hard to hear what they are saying.

They say, in a Bollywood film and on television, people have desires, they have hopes and dreams, and they live their lives so that those dreams can be realised. There is a sense of travelling towards a goal, of reaching somewhere. Here, our lives shift, change, every day. The place where we live may be demolished, someone might lose their livelihood, nothing is a certainty. There is no end to anything. So a “narrative” is often not possible.

How do they come upon the form they will write in, each time? Sometimes it’s easy they say, like leaning your head against a wall. The oil in your hair will leave a mark, and the mark will have its own shape. At other times, it’s a struggle.

The midday azan begins. All sounds seem to be unfolding right outside the two windows of the room. They accumulate as layers upon one another, or interrupt the previous sound, or distort it. Almost Island is privileged to be able to present three of these texts here. These are not voices of protest, they are writer’s voices, inclusive. They are valuable precisely because they are not texts with, as they say, the weight of presentation. They are texts of watching, the outside, and the self.

A perfect example of what he describes as a "text of watching" is the short story by Jaanu Naagar, "A Welcome To Those Who Come", a desolate description of a friendship that lives briefly and ambiguously before sliding into loneliness and loss:

He came among us at a time when we were doing our daily work. We were afraid even to touch him, in case we injured him in any way. He would close his eyes and keep listening to us quietly. But some words would sting him like a mosquito. He would open his eyes suddenly and say, “Where did you get that mosquito from?” The mosquito would buzz for some time and then become silent. The dream would think about something and then make notes in his notebook.

This much is easy to bear, but a time comes when the dream leaves us while we are asleep. Then, we remember him in dreams. But when we turn over on our beds, we see that the place where he slept, next to us, is empty.

This young author travels through an emotional landscape that reads like modernist sketches from an Urdu poet's notebook, an unlettered shahrashub, a portrait of a city disjointed and dismantled by longing for a beauty that leaves as soon as it is found. There is no possibility for the consolations of wholeness here, only letters sent and not received, letters received with no return address, incomplete circuits of communication left dangling:

A pigeon has brought this letter to you. You cannot ask any questions of it, but you can try and guess to whom this letter, without a name, without an address, has been written.

Spam Struck

Aditi Nadkarni — Sat, 17 Nov 2007 05:41:24 EST

"Would you like to add 8 inches or more to your penis?" asked the email in the most casual of tones.

I was stumped. I have spoken to a lot of people in all of my twenty-seven years and never been asked that. Also, having never given this particular question a serious thought I now considered the posibility for several seconds. Needless to say, I don't have a penis and 8 inches or more could make a whole, functional one. But while having a nice, long dick might even be fun for a change, I have always secretly pitied men for having their very sensitive reproductive organ be so accesible. So, no, I concluded, I did not wish to add 8 or more inches to my penis.

"Not even two or three inches, thank you" I muttered much to the confusion of my colleagues as I determinedly hit the Spam tab.

A few days later an aunt who had just very recently been introduced to the world-wide web wrote me an interesting email.

"Take a look at this email I received" she urged. Below was a lengthy forwarded message.

"It is with a deep sense of trust and brotherliness that I convey to you this news which I hope will not cause you any emotional distress" began the email making my stomach churn.

"I am Daren K, the Director of the Plks Bank Of Nigeria and am writing to you about the dormant savings of an account holder Wasidullah Nadkarni who died without electing a next of kin" continued the email with the sad news of beloved Wasidullah's death.

It is at times like this that I wish more than ever that my grandfather was alive.

"Wasidullah had no shame" he would've announced wagging a frail, vehement finger in the air, "Had he no care for the family's name...we are Brahmins! How dare he convert to Islam without informing the family elders!" he would've roared and then purposefully typed out a reply to Mr. Daren K completely convinced that Wasidullah Nadkarni had to be one of his estranged brethren.

"Dear brother Daren K, while we have no interest whatsoever in Wasidullah's enormous and unclaimed savings we will be arriving in Nigeria to carry out his last rites as per Hindu tradition." the email would've read and a worried Daren K would've never written to another Nadkarni again.

"Delete the email, its just spam" I promptly wrote to my aunt who had since then expressed worries of Wasidullah Nadkarni being the village bumpkin Wasanta Nadkarni who had gone to Dubai and never returned.

My own parent's attitudes have been stoic in the face of illustrious and uplifting lottery news that arrives daily in their inbox.

My dad in particular has a very practical yet slightly pessimistic logic in dealing with such news no matter how authentic it sounds.

"I have never gotten anything in life without working my tail off and so it is highly unlikely that Coca-Cola would send me a one hundred, thousand pound lottery....especially when I despise their product so much" he once stated very matter-of-factly.

Then there is Poetry.com which sends all aspiring poets letters of deep appreciation. One could enter "My Bonnie lies over the ocean" as a contest entry and will still receive voluble praise for their poetic talent. "World's Poet Of The Year" or some such heavyweight title is printed across the very top of the letter making many a young and naive poet's heart flutter in anticipation of the glorious journey they were about to embark upon. Then towards the end it becomes clear that one needs to pay about a hundred dollars and then some to get a plaque with "Poet Of The Year" engraved on it. And whats more you even get to buy your own book. How wonderful.

Now, isn't that what every talented literary genius wants, to be the only one buying their work? I have decided to walk over to Things Remembered and get myself a "World's best poet, author and just everything talented in general" award with the signature of some obscure person at the checkout counter. I think it might cost me less. Also the Gods Of Math have blessed me with the understanding that the leather bound coffee table edition that Poetry.com promises is a lot more expensive than printing out my poem and reading it over and over again.

How can one forget the whole weight loss industry with marketing personnel who cannot rest until everybody in the world is on some sort of a diet.

"Have you tried the cabbage diet?" Mona religously enquires every other Saturday.

I have half a mind to write back and ask her if she has ever tried the no-spam diet. While the cabbage diet could lead to some serious gas, a no-spam diet has no such flatulent gastrointestinal manifestations.

There was a time when I was new to the internet and the dot com trend was sweeping the cyber world. One could find websites with practically everything followed by a dot com. I began receiving offers for crystal and ceramic miniatures to decorate my bookshelves with. Shelfart.com would dedicately convince me each week as to why my home looked less like a home without any crystal or ceramic ornaments to brighten things up. When they did stop writing I was heartbroken. I wondered if they had finally figured out that while ShelfArt was a pretty cool play on words, ShelFart was not.

Years later now, Shelfari sends me mails from people in my address book asking "Do we like the same books?". How does it matter, I wonder. I don't even know when and why it became so important to find out if two people shared their taste in books.

Orkut of course has opened up a whole new range of unwanted emails. They are personalized and very sweet at times when the grammar isn't atrociously bad.

"Please, can I do friendship with you?" wrote a guy, "Your smile is like Madhuri Dixit" he added and I immediately forgave him for the incorrect and slightly dirty sounding "do friendship". While a Madhuri-smile should probably have no bearing on friendship, he did manage to flatter me quite effectively. I have to admit, sweet-talk is my favorite dessert. So I took a quick, noncommittal peek at his profile almost gushing from this unexpected comparison to La Dixit. And then it took me about twelve seconds to hurriedly reject his friend request once I saw "Shokeen Auntiyaan" listed among his favorite communities. That explained why he would want to "do" friendship.

Spam has become so much a part of my life now that if I don't hear from Tamara Coon who convinces me every single day that "Size does matter", I begin to worry that something's happened to her. When I don't hear from friends and family as often as I like, I send them emails telling them that I have spammers who love me more than they do.

Even as I type this post, I take a quick glance into my inbox and there sits an email posing a question that has long since haunted my psyche leaving me sleepless on many a night.

"Do you like your nipples pinched?" asks Tony Silver

"I thought they'd never ask" I whisper with a smile as the emphatic click of delete resounds.

Of Moral Courage and Principles: Whodunnit? in Pakistan

temporal — Fri, 2 Nov 2007 13:15:13 EDT

In the Dawn Magazine of October 28, I read with interest the latest article Whodunnit by Anjum Niaz on Naseerullah Babar, the former general and head of interior ministry under Bhutto, now in his 80s. This interview is revealing and illuminating. First read these comments:

As one whose loyalties are locked in with the Bhutto family, this old PPP guard has watched his revered leader Zulfikar Ali Bhutto hanged and his two sons murdered spawning 30 years of chilling intrigue and international espionage. He knows who killed them and the motive behind, but his lips are sealed.

“At my age it’s not appropriate to compromise with the military and seek a PPP ticket for the 2008 elections. But my loyalty to the PPP will remain grounded. It’s my national duty,” he tells me when I ask him whether he would like to serve BB again.

Why, then, has he not revealed the identity of Shahnawaz’s killers? “Because I was advised not to go beyond the drawn line,” he says. “The substance that killed Shahnawaz was used by very few countries.” The FBI and the French authorities investigated independently but kept their findings secret because of certain international sensitivities.”

(When Murtaza Bhutoo was gunned down)Naseerullah Babar was the interior minister. “I know the people who had him bumped off. They dismissed the sister two weeks later because they wanted to seize power and heap all the blame on her for his death.”

When General Asif Nawaz died, Nawaz Sharif got blamed for poisoning him to death. General Babar, who was in the government then, sent the hair samples of the deceased army chief to France and Russia. The final verdict: it was not poison but a heart attack that killed the handsome general. “I had the moral courage to tell the nation and absolve Nawaz Sharif of the crime,” says Babar.

********

General Nasirullah Babar is a man who served Pakistan, winning medals in '65 and '71. He had access to the highest echelons of power. He claims 'moral courage'. I will take him at his words.

Reading the excerpts and comments I highlighted above these thoughts come to the fore:

* It appears difficult to fathom that a person who can risk his life for the country, listens to a different inner voice and refrains from sharing what he knows with the nation (Zulfikar, Shahnawaz, Murteza).

* Why is his "national duty" confined to serving Pinky only?

* Why is his "moral courage" limited and confined to Benazir only?

* What overshadows whom for him? Pakistan over Ms. Bhutto or the other way down?

Anjum concludes:

Whizzing past his 80th milestone, men like Babar are a vanishing breed. A compost of truth mixed with seasoned intelligence gathering that connects the dots. He takes a principled stand where the lily livered would capitulate. Such men need to be lionised.

Sorry Anjum, the way I see, his principles appear jaded and tarnished.

I wish him continued health. And I also wish men (and women)past their prime who had access to the corridors of power shed their moral ambiguity. Their knowledge of the past shenanigans will help the nation chart a better course. They have nothing to lose now, and the nation stands to gain much if they come clean.

BlogWorld & New Media Expo - Blogs Go Mainstream

Tanay Behera — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 00:30:37 EDT

A couple of months back, I was at the Bangalore BarCamp, [a Bloggers collective version] which was nothing but a series of talks and discussions on an extensive list of topics, of course in a un-conference format. The blogging world is catching up fast with the explosion of Internet facilities. And very soon the first and only industry-wide tradeshow, conference, and media event dedicated to the furtherance of the dynamics of blogging and new media, the BlogWorld & New Media Expo is coming soon.

This Blog Summit is a conference series that focuses on the applications of blogging in various spheres of life, social media and a wide array of topics. Apart from all these, the BlogWorld & New Media Expo would feature more than 50 seminars, panel discussions and keynotes from prominent gurus on the new age online technology and internet-savvy business.

Now anyone who already has the blog virus in his/her blood can join the party. Anyone who is currently blogging, podcasting, producing other forms of new media content, entering the new media industry, or just want to learn about the know-hows of the blogosphere, can be a part of this comprehensive blogging convention, the BlogWorld & New Media Expo.

Blogcritics and Desicritics are participants in this event. Eric Olsen, the Founder and Publisher of Blogcritics.org and who later mentored Aaman in the Desicritics initiative is one of the key speakers at this forum.

A peek into Eric Olsen's career graph in writing, editing, and media exposes his expertise in this arena for close to 20 years now. He has written volumes on a vast array of topics including politics, current events, world affairs, popular culture, music, music industry, digital technology, opinion and commentary, etc., for periodicals, books, TV, radio, and the Internet. As an editor and author, he supervised the compilation and publication of Networking In the Music Industry (Rockpress, 1993) and Encyclopedia of Record Producers (Billboard Books, 1999). In 2002, Olsen founded online magazine Blogcritics.org, the sinister cabal of superior bloggers.

It's definitely a moment of pride and appreciation for all the Blogcritics and also Desicritics to have Eric Olsen address such a groundbreaking conference on blogging.

Apart from the discussions on blogging, the conference would also touch other appendages, that regular bloggers use such as widgets, advertising networks, news readers, aggregators, etc to enhance the substance and the presentation of their sites. The event would also feature an open house discussion on the galore of products and services configured to make blogging easy and user-friendly. Apart from these some interesting discussion sessions on topics such as improving the look and aesthetic features of blogs, tips to increase readership, and how to make money from blogs, etc.

The inaugural event will take place on the 8th and 9th November'07 at the Las Vegas Convention Center, with an exclusive 'Executive & Entrepreneur' conference beginning on the 7th November '07.

Venue : Las Vegas Convention Center
Address : Las Vegas Convention Center
3150 Paradise Road, Las Vegas,
NV 89109, USA.

The event has some cool sponsors(check the webpage on the top), with, the Southwest Airlines being declared as the 'Official Airline of BlogWorld & New Media Expo'.

Some facts to show how fast the blog virus is spreading. So much so that many of the contenders both from the Democrats and Republicans brigade are using blogs as a medium for canvassing voters for the forth coming US elections. A glance at the official blog site of one of the strongest Democrats competitors, Hillary Clinton shows the impact this new media tool has made. Also a couple of weeks back, there was news about an anonymous blogger who assumed the persona of Steve Job, Apple's chief executive and made ad-lib posts at The Secret Diary of Steve Jobs, to charade Mr. Jobs and his reputation as a swollen-headed and egotistic leader. On being unmasked, Mr. Daniel Lyons, a writer and editor for the technology related articles for Forbes and author of two works of fiction, the most recently one being, 'Dog Days' said.

Mr. Lyons said he invented the Fake Steve character last year, when a small group of chief executives turned bloggers attracted some media attention. He noticed that they rarely spoke candidly. "I thought, wouldn’t it be funny if a C.E.O. kept a blog that really told you what he thought? That was the gist of it."

Mr. Lyons says he recalled trying out the voices of several chief executives before settling on the colorful Apple co-founder. He twice tried to relinquish the blog, but started again after being deluged by fans e-mailing to ask why Fake Steve had disappeared.

How can I miss out Heather alias Dooce, the queen of blogosphere and a household phrase in Technorati? Heather Armstrong created Dooce.com in February 2001, and a year later she was 'dooced', i.e. fired from her job as a web designer for writing about her co-workers and workplace. Dooce ranks very high on Technorati and is on the top 100 Most popular blogs list and has won Bloggies Award for Best Writing, Most Humorous Weblog, Best Tagline and Best American Weblog. Unlike other top blogs, Dooce is centered around Heather's articulate and humorous pennings on interesting observations in life, pregnancy, babies, depression, jobs, husband, and hilarious interactions with her daughter.

Now some cool facts on blogging.

9% of internet users say they have created blogs.
Technorati is currently tracking over 70 million blogs.
Over 120 thousand blogs are created every day.
22 of the 100 most popular websites in the world are blogs.
Blog readers average 23 hours online each week.

[Source: blogworldexpo.com]

Considering the final point, it's as if someone spends to close to one day out of every seven days in the blog world, for reading, writing, commenting, etc all related to blogs. Blogs are definitely mainstream now.

Do I fit this profile? You bet!