June 27, 2007

I think this is fun

Some like it rave-n-rant
Some like it blue
Some like to enchant
And some have no clue…

The trick is in the toolbag
Of link, tag and stats
Some shots in sepia
You’ve got it down pat.

Ex-boyfriends’ effigies
post-modern tease
outrage at MNCs
Politicoes at ease.

Blog pigs and sugar-mills
Dams and sarkar
Blog feminist theory
Caste-vote and war.

Blog rain and blog sun
Blog NRI fun
Bloggit- every coffee break
Anon if you may,
Blog date and blog hate
Blog some regrets
Photoblog your escapades
Words are passé.

You speak in cyberspace,
Pretty girls log in,
Blog-flirt with cute posts
And maybe you’ll win.

Blog dine and blog wine
Ecstacy and agony
Of a lost post procured.

June 13, 2007

Eminent Domain

A CNN IBN snippet on the Bangalore Metro, justified monetary compensation plus expenses of relocation, to affected persons, on the ground that efficiency of the project will be impeded otherwise. I don't know if the CNN IBN, or the journalist concerned, or the MD of the Bangalore Metro Group, had at any point, thought about whether the media, the company, the Land Acquisition Officer needed to reason why a person's house, shop, livelihood must be eaten up. The TV capsule was geared towards reasoning how/when/ on what time schedule they must be engulfed, what mode of compensation mus be adopted, to shut their protesting mouths the fastest.

One of the more lasting memories of a law class back in law school, for me, was the one I which I was explained Eminent Domain. That we live within a grand democratic constitutional framework, which has in its skeletal framework, ingrained, a fundamental un-right- that this body of and, water, forest, minerals, everything- you have no right over any of it. In the constitutional law class, it almost sounded like as everyday a necessity of governance, as a law student considers the need that bureaucrats will determine pretty much everything about living the democracy-life- because it all makes, in an efficient kind of way.

And this story about the Bangalore Metro, hence, made sense (almost common sensical) in the same way "efficient" kinda way. Just like the state's sudden hunger for land, water, bauxite, air, space, roads, flyovers, airports all make sense. It is a grab in the interest of efficiency.

Whether the state must grab, is an irrelevant question today, the spotlight being on how the state can grab with least trouble. We were shown 'public interest' as the grand check against abuse of éminent domain' powers. Only 'public interest' would warrant such an inroad into democratic freedoms. And Industry, Power, Minerals, Roads, Ports, Flyovers, Metros are Public Interest. So there is really no issue there. In the way that we were taught that it all made sense. In the efficient kinda way.

June 4, 2007

Swalpa senti post

The city of no fans. Where ACs are irrelevant luxuries. This is where I turn into spoilt-brat daughter, sleep, eat, chat, shop. It's the city of prawn curry dosas, sweat-shirt and knapsacks. I don't understand it's narratives, but I am told it's a very vibrant one.

In June 2001, we had driven upto a hilly nook in the city,hidden amidst eucalyptuses, with a little arrow saying the National Law School of India University. Without it, the only way of figuring our way would have been to ask for the Naagarbaavi Laaah Kalej. The same drive today speaks of truckloads of cement, shacks of construction workers, uprooted eucalyptuses by a court order (they dry up groundwater), a swank, boat-shaped NAAC building, iron-rods at the Circle promising broader roads and better communication with the city, glass-window-shops displaying sequined dupattas on lissome maniquins.

I can't be political here and critique the pressures of incoming capital on this little once-carefree surburb, because I have too many memories associated with this drive. I have traversed this uphill and then downhill road -in my dad's long car, in a friend's khataara maruti, on bikes of hip boys, in auto rickshaws with drunken girls. I don't miss this suburb, as much as I miss my world, that once used to be, in this suburb.

The city grows more malls, iron rods sproutfrom in between people's bedroom's windows, just as software giants get ready to take it down the Singapore valley. Meanwhile, a queer bird still sits at our balcony, even as the old haunted house behind is being torn down by some real estate messiah.