Four Decades Later

RIOTS// Singapore’s first major riot in four decades forced the wealthy island to confront a stubborn but vexing question: how to treat low-paid foreign workers whose muscle underpins much of the economy but whose presence increasingly riles its citizens. Images of rioters overturning police cars, throwing garbage bins and burning an ambulance in Singapore’s Little India on the night of December 8, 2013, shocked the orderly Southeast Asian nation and stirred debate over whether foreign workers should be better integrated or see their numbers reduced. “This is just a tip of the iceberg,” said Gayathri, 30, an engineer who lives near the scene of the riots and goes by one name. “I hope the government will take it as a wake-up call. We need foreigners to boost our economy, but not at the expense of our security,” she added, echoing a widely held sentiment. Police charged 24 Indian nationals with rioting, which carries a maximum penalty of seven years’ prison and caning.

Tushar Kanwar on how to find social media influencers

Meet them on the street, and they look no different from you or me. Online, they’re nothing short of pseudo-celebrities, commanding the attention and following of thousands of digital natives. Welcome to the age of the social media influencer, trusted voices that drive conversation and action within their online communities. Engaged wisely, social media influencers can mean a big boost to your product/service, but keep in mind—these are not marketing tools, they’re real people with whom you need to build and strengthen a relationship before you can expect the magic to happen. Let’s talk about how to find, engage, and use valuable social media influencers to drive your next campaign online.

VALUE OF INFLUENCERS

You may well ask—how is engaging with these influencers, or brand advocates as some may say, different from celebrity endorsements. Sure, there is overlap—both communities expand your audience and help raise awareness about your offering, and connect you to people (and other influencers) that you as a brand may not have direct access to. The difference lies in the ability to inspire action— celebrity endorsements are associated with short-term spurts in product recall with tricky measurement around actual sales impact. On the other hand, brand advocates and influencers display a genuine passion for the brand and the effects of their advocacy and loyalty are longer lasting and…quite honestly, more believable than a paid shill!

HOW TO IDENTIFY THEM

Identify the target influencer type: Influencers reside in every knick and cranny on the web, but finding the right type of influencer is almost as important to your influencer outreach campaign as the time, effort and tools you use. Before we proceed, take a minute to look at Klout’s Influence Matrix (http:// bit.ly/DW-Influencer) to identify what type of influencer would work best for your product/ service. Networkers, for instance, are known by everyone and seem to know everyone as well, with contacts in practically every sphere – their strength is connecting people, even if they themselves are not your target group. Broadcasters excel at disseminating information that then gets amplified through their extensive network of (typically) news outlets— perfect for maximum coverage. Trendsetters are regarded as pioneers of the web, always the first to spot the latest trends, test new products and platforms, while thought leaders are the expert bloggers, the conference speakers, the academics—their credibility on their areas of expertise is enough to lead and influence industry opinions.

Use the right tools: Tools like Klout, Kred, PeerIndex and Traackr help you assemble your shortlist of social media influencers and provide a measure to evaluate their influence. Klout, for example, scores influencers on three parameters – true reach (how many people react to content an influencer shares, such as replies and retweets), amplification (how many people share the content onwards) and the strength/influence of their networks. Data about your Klout score is polled from activity from a wide variety of sources—twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Foursquare, Youtube and Instagram—thereby lending some degree of credibility of your Klout score representing the broad gamut of your influence online. Unlike Klout, Kred gives a breakdown of activity, updates, and score in real-time, and also lets users add offline “real world experience” like company size, certificates, and other achievements in order to boost their score, giving a broader picture of influence. Both of these options are free, and if you have the budget, consider Traackr as well, for its bouquet of in-depth services for finding influencers for your vertical.

Research, Research, Research: Research your influencers well, for it can be the difference between an unwanted brand outreach and a well-targeted one. Google is your friend, as is Hipposaur publicly available information about the influencers in your field. Scan their twitter timelines, note interesting facts you find out about them, maybe even run some keyword searches in twitter and Google to find out more influencers that tools may have missed.

At the end of the day, identifying social media influencers is not enough. The hard part is what comes next—how to build relationships with these influencers and get them to support your cause. Starting a relationship can be done by simple acts—retweeting their tweets, sharing their content regularly (on your blogs, Facebook page etc.)—let them know you’re a fan of their work by actively engaging with them. Once some degree of trust is established, invite them over to educate them on why and how you do what you do, maybe the inside scoop of how’re making a difference in your shared area of interest. If there is resonance, have them contribute in some way or form on your platforms, whether it is a guest post on your blog, or hosting a Q&A on a social platform for your brand. The result? Expansion and intermingling of both your audiences, and a stronger influencer-brand relationship.

Always remember to show your influencers that they’re VIPs for your brand—whether it is via inside-access to your management, or having them speak at client meetups and advocacy meetings, and when they engage positively, thank them…as publicly as possible. Reward them with company merchandise and other perks, as an incentive for continued engagement. Consider this parting tip—the person with the most followers may not be your best bet, so use the tools with a grain of salt and some everyday common sense. There’s a lot of buzz about social media influencer, including a bunch of hype about people who are the “most” influential. At the end of the day, only you can decide who is right for your brand, and you need to follow your gut and use your reallife knowledge of people and relationships to make the best of social media influencers.

Living and dying on Facebook

IN MID-DECEMBER OF 2013, logging into my Facebook account at the end of what had been a spirit-exhausting day, I was shocked—there is no word in any of the languages I speak which can appropriately convey what I went through for the first few minutes after the discovery—to find the news of a Facebook friend’s sudden demise. I hadn’t met him in a conference or cafe or classroom, but Facebook had nurtured this relationship beyond it, spilling over from the Timeline to telephone conversations that had allowed much wit and humour and undoubtedly affection from both sides. Older in years by a little more than a decade, he had gently metamorphosed into the older brother I never had. He had a medical history of heart attacks and other ailments, all of which made their presence felt in our conversations about the future and also the present.

Looking at his Facebook Timeline for a week, from the day of his passing on to the announcement of details about his shraddh ceremony in a temple in Delhi’s C. R. Park, I am amazed by the number of messages. What makes the living believe that the dead will visit their Facebook page? I have to confess that I am one of those writers on the wall. Two days after the news reached me, after reading every single message on his wall, I sat down to tell him what I would tell someone who had left without bothering to inform me. On Facebook, where every kind of behaviour is documented with a self-imposed military detailing, right from what one is reading to what one is feeling, eating, drinking, so much so that one should not be surprised if Zuckerberg’s blue army soon comes up with a ‘Sleeping with ...’ option like it did with feeling-readingwriting- drinking-watching, it was the ultimate letdown. My friend would often post updates of his culinary adventures from his favourite restaurants in Delhi, he would tell us which of his favourite RD Burman songs he had in his earphones, he would also post photos from his holidays, and yet this time, he hadn’t bothered to inform us at all.

It was this outrage at the lack of intimation that I detected among all the messages on the wall: ‘I am shocked that he left like this ...’; ‘How could he go like this?’; ‘I cannot believe ... that you are dead’. I am certain that any kind of death, no matter at what age it came to the dead person, comes as a shock. It is an absence in the chair, a dent in the pillow that takes years to get used to. I wrote one such message myself, though not on his Facebook wall: look at his audacity, I meant to say to my dead friend’s favourite cousin, he leaving us like this, without a farewell.

Two things related to the incident have surprised me more than my friend’s sudden death. These have to do with the Facebook behaviour of his friends, people like us. What made otherwise sensible and rational people write messages on the Facebook wall of a dead man?

And second, if we really thought that Facebook was the new age planchette, why did we not write private messages to him in his inbox?

Twenty first century human life— with its ‘meaning-itis’ epidemic, where all we do and not do must hold some meaning—when lived on Facebook, often becomes a site where one presses the Escape button from Reason, from the taut borders of rationality and what constitutes sanity. Chances are that most of the writers of messages to the dead man do not believe in ghosts. Many of them, I found out from their Facebook profile information, do not believe in gods either. My friend was a journalist among several other things—his friends, those writing those messages, were also mostly journalists, writers, academics, people who would otherwise make snide remarks about those communicating with the dead.

What is so special about Facebook that it makes it seem like a medium between the living and the dead then? I do not know. That would be the job of a social historian or a researcher of crowd behaviour in the virtual space. I can only report what followed his death. In the evening of the day he died, I received a Facebook friend request from a woman. I had heard about her from my friend—they had been close friends, their friendship recent, once again spilling over from Facebook to the world outside it. From time to time, my friend would tell me about his deep affection for this woman. I came to know details about her life from him, so that I felt like I knew her—as if she was a character in a film that I’d watched at some point in my life, a film whose ending I could not remember no matter how hard I tried. I was aware of the misunderstandings their innocent friendship had caused my friend’s family. I had stood on the fence, for once avoiding being judgmental, all the while watching my friend do the march past.

I ‘accepted’ the woman’s friend request in no time at all. It was for my friend—that was how he would have liked it. The woman’s private message to me in my inbox was ruthlessly honest: she had no interest in me, she only wanted to communicate with “anyone who knew” the dead man. She was in a strange vacuum—she did not know a single person outside Facebook who actually “knew” our “mutual” friend, and having heard about me from him, she had sought me out as a companion in this common hour of grief and abandonment.

It is a psycho-social situation many of us face because of the strangely divided lives we lead. Making friends with strangers whose partners and families are not necessarily our friends, our online lives moving furiously inside our heads while our legs move like an ant’s, unable to resolve the public-private dichotomy in any happy measure, we are no longer sure of the living-dying mechanism. The question is not so much whether and how one actually dies, on Facebook and outside it, but the gross injustice of it all, our inability to post a status update while dying. Perhaps only that would bring closure? Until then, as I wait for more messages to appear on my friend’s wall, I wonder what Facebook would think of that expression from William Wordsworth, ‘a presence that disturbs me’.

Is it a catalyst or does it signify lasting institutional presence in politics?

IN BECOMING CM of Delhi, Arvind Kejriwal of the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP) has accomplished a miracle in Indian politics. With 28 seats in an assembly of 70, AAP finished second behind the BJP. The Congress, which won eight years and was pushed out of office, picked up eight seats and offered AAP support in a jesting, mocking, non-serious manner. AAP trapped the Congress by accepting the support, after going through a process of consultation.

How long will this government last? Will the Congress be forced to withdraw support if (or when) the AAP government begins investigating corruption by the previous, Sheila Dikshit administration? Will Kejriwal go into a midterm poll in Delhi as a martyr who lost an ally (Congress) and his chief ministry because he was fighting sleaze? Will the gain BJP gain instead, having grabbed the entirety of the opposition space? In the coming weeks, AAP will face a straightforward challenge. It has taken charge from a Congress government has run Delhi for 15 years. Along with the Union government, also led by the Congress, the previous Delhi government has been charged with many scandals, cases of malfeasance and embezzlement. Its opacity in public procurement – which famously came to light during the preparations for the Commonwealth Games of 2010—contributed to the Congress government losing support.

It would stand to reason that any new government, especially one which has been built on an anti-corruption platform, will re-open or intensify investigations. AAP could use this course to burnish its credentials as well as embarrass the Congress. Already, senior Congress leaders, as well as those associated with the Sheila Dikshit government, are talking of unconditional support being not quite unconditional and openly wondering how long the gimmick will last. To be fair, AAP has nothing to lose. It has placed the Congress in a dilemma. A quick midterm election may benefit AAP or may benefit the BJP. It will almost leave the Congress in an even bigger mess.

Even more important, however, is the issue of what the AAP phenomenon means for national politics and the upcoming Lok Sabha election. Can AAP or regional parties grab the non- BJP space in states and particularly urban areas where the Congress has lost ground?

On the other hand, is the AAP performance a freak outcome, an outlier and limited to just the unique environment and tiny constituencies of Delhi?

The BJP would certainly hopes it’s the latter. To some extent, it would have reason to be optimistic. After all, the type of Delhi voter who put his or her support behind AAP and Kejriwal is also the type of voter whom Narendra Modi is courting and seeking to aggressively identify with – young and restless, somewhat underprivileged or belonging to the aspiring middle classes, feeling let down by the cynicism and social hierarchies that define the Congress. It is perfectly possible that many AAP voters in Delhi – and Kejriwal sympathisers in other cities – could vote for Modi in May 2014.

However, a caveat needs to be entered here. If the Delhi verdict and the drubbing the Congress has suffered offers hope for the BJP, it also delivers a warning. An undercooked campaign, lack of due diligence in candidate selection and in addressing negative perceptions about even senior functionaries and the absence of new ideas and triggers with which to inspire impatient voters are going to hold back the potential of even as promising a prime ministerial candidate as Modi.

How does analyse AAP: is it a catalyst or does it signify lasting institutional presence in politics? Kejriwal’s fundamental appeal is not his populist promises (cheap water, lower power tariffs) but the fact that he has been willing to speak the unspeakable truth and bust the cosy and incestuous club of cross-party politicians. In a sense, he has thrown up poison and forced India to confront conflicts of interest it didn’t even see as conflicts of interest. Whether his government lasts or otherwise, in some crazy and manic way Kejriwal has served a purpose.

Having said that, running a government and running a rhetorical and angry election campaign are very different. The manner of consultation before AAP accepted the Congress’ offer of support and agreed to form a government was a process of asking the public to send text messages to indicate whether AAP should go ahead or otherwise. This, along with the trust Kejriwal seems to place on mohalla committees— sub-units of even municipal wards—is being described as AAP’s commitment to “direct democracy”. Is this a revolutionary idea—or a crackpot scheme? Does it suggest policy decisions and new laws will be subject to not legislative support but also attestation by ad hoc opinion polls, and use of text-message or Internet-based surveys? Does it involve referendums? As a device, the referendum is much used in Switzerland, a country AAP ideologues have often referred to. Even laws passed by parliament can be challenged and nullified. In the Swiss system, an individual citizen can force a plebiscite if he collects 50,000 signatures. Switzerland has a population of eight million. If its standards are applied to India, one is looking at collecting signatures of 7.5 million people.

Clearly the “go to the people” method is not feasible. How then can policy making and legislation be made more consultative? Civil society groups claim one route is to involve them in the process. They argue they work among grassroots communities and represent popular opinion. As such, they bring to policy shaping a humane heart, while civil servants and political administrators only contribute a clinical mind. AAP has bought into this notion wholeheartedly.

It is apparent a certain populism and emotiveness is built into this civil society argument. Whichever way one considers it, it ends up undermining technocratic specialisation, not to speak of elected government. In the long term, if AAP is mature into a party of governance – as opposed to a party of the op-ed pages—it will have to keep all this in mind

let’s face it— not knowing it, doesn’t help— so, there’s MAD

The English language—as Amitabh Bachchan told us in Namak Halaal—is a “very funny” language. “I can talk English, I can walk English, I can laugh English, because English is a very funny language. Bhairo becomes Baron, and Baron becomes Bhairo, because their minds are very narrow,” says he. Bachchan’s monologue, which went on to attain cult status, is also a social commentary on the status of this ‘Sahib’s language’ in India. Naturally, every language serves a purpose and in Thomas More’s Uotpia, language united people. However, ours is not an idealistic world. In India, English is a privilege dividing the haves from the have nots. So, even as ‘nationalists’ argue about the English language and the undue attention it receives, Make a Difference (MAD) team and its volunteers carry on teaching underprivileged children a language which still holds the power to make better careers.

Founded in the year 2006, MAD was the brain child of a group of youths who realised that in India, knowing the English language could be a game changer for underprivileged children.

One of the MAD founders—Jithin C. Nedumala—was a college student when he visited a Kochi shelter home to distribute sweets. It was his way to celebrate a friend’s admission to a prestigious law college. On that day Nedumala spoke to the children— and heard them. And at the end of the conversation, Nedumala realised that they were looking for more than sweets. They were seeking to be educated, to get a chance to be in a reputed college (like the founder’s friend). They wanted a future that was not depended on sops and doles—they wanted to be in charge of their futures.

Nedumala decided to help. With some of his friends, he set up a library at the centre and started to teach the children rudimentary English. Thus, Make A Difference or MAD was born—in a tiny library with a handful of volunteers taking evening English lessons. But that was then.

Today, MAD is present in 23 cities and has a network of more than 1,200 volunteers who teach more than 4,000 children. For something that had such a humble beginning, MAD has spread its wings fairly quickly. Their aim is simple, they want to bring self-dependency in lives they touch. They want the children to lead a life of dignity and open their minds to new possibilities. I visited one such MAD centre and met some young and passionate teaching fellows at a Dariyaganj shelter home hosted by the Waqf Board. It was called Bachhon Ka Ghar.

Bachhon Ka Ghar is a boys’ shelter home with (approximately) 30 children. There are 24 volunteers who teach English and basic communication skills. I met and spoke extensively to two volunteers—Leshiya Khamboj and Aishwarya, both in their early twenties, and both passionate about MAD. Leshiya, who works for Google, heads MAD’s English Project, while Aishwarya, a student of optometry in All India Institute of Medical Sciences, is in charge of the funding wing. “These are very smart children. The reason why there are gaps in their education is because the schools they go to, are not equipped to deal with their needs,” explains Khamboj. “One of our students goes to a school where the students of Class VI teach students of Class V. How do you learn anything in an environment where there are no teachers or text books?” Khamboj asks. Lucky for the children, they have the young volunteers to their rescue.

Though English language remains the primary focus of MAD volunteers, slowly some of them are moving towards other subjects as well. “Volunteers who stay on longer start to teach other subjects as well. All students are provided text books from Cambridge University Press. They are taught different levels of English. It is not just about rudimentary skills. We want our students’ grammar to be as strong as their spoken English,” says Khamboj, who has been teaching for three years now.

Aishwarya, who has been involved in fund raising bit and keeping MAD afloat, is ready with stories of children who “blossomed” thanks to a little help. “In another shelter where we volunteer, we met a girl called Khushi. Early on when we had asked her what she wished to become, she had no clue. A few months ago, MAD brought in motivational speakers to address the students at the shelter home. After hearing them, Khushi decided to become an entrepreneur,” says a beaming Aishwarya.

The beauty of MAD lies in their simple approach; a two-hour-long class, every weekend. Students are always taught according to a ‘syllabus’ (MAD subscribes to the Cambridge English syllabus). In the last 30 minutes of each class, a story reading session is held, to improve oratory skills. And boy, MAD it may be, but it works! Students do not look motivated, they seemed eager to learn more.

While I was conducting the interview and watching volunteers in action, I noticed that classes were often interrupted by boys who would come in to shout a hello. After a while when one of the grinning volunteers mockingly reprimanded one of the boys for the ‘interruption’ and asked him to leave, he said, “Itni mehnat se andar aaya hun, ab aap bol rahe ho bahar jao?” (It took so much effort to get in, and you are asking me to get out?)

The line reverberate as I think about the children later; it has taken a lot of hard work on their part to get into the education system. And minds have been opened. Once in this system, they can not be sent back from. In fact, they refuse to leave.

Rock-Blues-Country-Funky- Freaky Sound

I WAS INTRODUCED to Jimmy Hendrix very late. And I couldn’t be gladder I read this book. Starting at Zero, a posthumous compilation of Hendrix’s interviews, letters, diary entries and notes is the closest to an autobiography of this extraordinary man. It tells us the simple ambitions and breathtaking imagination of Hendrix who over the last four decades has come to be regarded as the greatest electric guitarist of all time. We see the book make away from the falsehoods, the myths and the stereotypes that have muddled the narrative of his short, yet unusually eventful life and present to us a first-person narrative that is alive and shows strange new ways to look at his oeuvre.

From the early difficult days in Seattle, to joining the US army, to playing in Tennessee, to eventually being discovered by Chas Chandler and the formation of The Jimi Hendrix Experience that rocked the ‘60s London music scene—we hear the narrative of a man juggling between his stage persona, the media’s misdirection and the safe place he was at as a person. Each page of the book is an insight into Hendrix the man, and the book does a superb job of having us see his voice mature and become crazier over the years. At a point, he describes his love for fairytales, in another he is against categorising his music, insisting throughout the book, and perhaps throughout his life, that it rather be called his “rockblues- country-funky-freaky sound”.

As with all artists, Hendrix is most compelling when talking about his craft and influences. Most of his songs, he reveals, were about 10 pages long and had to be edited. Apart from Dylan and the blues masters, he singles out Mike Bloomfield’s Electric Flag and Jefferson Airplane as his muses. What he calls “freak-out psychedelic” music does not interest him—this is not what he thinks the Experience is doing. “I don’t want anybody to stick a psychedelic label around my neck. Sooner Bach and Beethoven. Don’t misunderstand me, I love Bach and Beethoven, I have many records by them, also by Gustav Mahler.” He loves to be called the Paganini of the guitar, but when voted the world’s greatest guitarist by readers of Melody Maker, responds: “That’s just silly.”

It took just four years in the spot-light for Jimi Hendrix to become an international cultural icon. The sheer impact and originality of his music and his unique mastery of the guitar placed him forever amongst musical giants. But what of the man behind the public image? Modest and intensely private by nature, Jimi was shrouded in intrigue from the moment he first came into the public eye, and the mystery has only grown with time. Much has been written about him by experts, fans, and critics, some of it true and some of it not. He did, however, leave his own account of himself, locked away like a Chinese puzzle in his many interviews, lyrics, writings, poems, diaries, and even stage raps. Starting at Zero brings all these elements together in narrative form. The result is an intimate, funny, and poetic memoir—one that tells, for the first time, Jimi’s own story as only he could tell it.

The Rolling Stone cover story in 1969 says magnificently that “Hendrix’s improvisation transcends category and constitutes music as imaginative and alive as rock and roll has known.” We have come a long way from the days of Woodstock and Star Spangled Banner to see Hendrix being touted as the eponymous musical revolutionary. From his admiration of Bob Dylan’s writing to calling Paul McCartney a cat, from going broke after being the biggest selling artist in the ‘60s and to one day give Bach and Mahler a chance to be incorporated in his music– Hendrix’s is an inimitable life dedicate to the pursuit of the new. It is difficult to find solace in his early death or to say that it was a quasi-cosmic intervention. Hendrix’s thoughts about death were all too prescient. He says, “It is funny the way people love the dead. You have to die before they think you are worth anything. Once you are dead you are made for life.” The book, not needing any quotation marks or citations, ends with Hendrix making the remark: “When I die, just keep on playing the records.” We do.

The Surprisingly Simple Truth Behind Extraordinary Results

THE ONE THING by Garry Keller and Jay Papasan is all about focusing—on that one winning idea—rather than running after a lot of ideas at the same time. Before we get to the book, two-bits about the author. While Keller is a chairman of the board and co-founder at Keller Williams Incorporated— the numero uno real estate firm in the United States—Papasan is the editor at HarperCollins Publishers, and often, the co-author of Gary’s books. Papasan is also a frequent speaker and corporate trainer. Simply put The One Thing explains the steps to a “successful habit”; overcome six lies that block success; beat seven thieves that steal time; and leverage laws of purpose, priority, and productivity. As the authors point out, “Sometimes it's the only thing you do. But it’s always the one thing that delivers extraordinary results.” In one of its chapters, the authors say, “Where I’d had huge success, I had narrowed my concentration to one thing, where my success varied, my focus had too.” The theme of the book is described via one Russian adage, “If you chase two rabbits, you will not catch either one.”

In the second chapter of the book, the authors start the conversation with a quote from Mark Twain, “It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you in trouble. It’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so.” The problem according to the authors is that “people tend to act on what they believe even when what we believe isn’t anything we should. As a result, buying into the ‘one thing’ becomes difficult because we’ve unfortunately bought into too many others— and more often than not those “other things” muddle our thinking, misguide our actions, and sidetrack our success. In the sixth chapter titled The Disciplined Life the authors say that one does not need to be a “disciplined” person to be successful. “In fact, you can become successful with less discipline you think, for one simple reason: success is about doing the right thing, not about doing everything right." The trick to success is to choose the right habit and bring just enough discipline to establish it. That’s it. That’s all the discipline you need. As this habit becomes part of your life, you will start looking like a disciplined person, but you won’t be one. What you will be, is someone who has something regularly working for you, because you regularly worked on it. The flow of the book is really very good. It is readable and well written with good examples and stories to justify the author’s idea. It has drawings that fill the gaps and visualise the written text. The book concludes with the line “success in life depends within you. You know what to do you know how to do it. Your next step is simple. You are the first domino.”

In the first Hitchhiker of this year, our author takes a tour down memory lane

It was 1988 and I was wending my way to Khajuraho in June. I remember that trip with clarity, despite the 26 intervening years. Partly because the muddy dull light of the height of summer crept into every one of my photographs, whether I took them at 6am, 3pm or 7pm. Partly because of the character I met. He was a young, 20-something lad and was from Khajuraho itself. I hadn’t realised how remote Khajuraho was, and how, but for the temples with their ornate carvings with sometimes erotic motifs, it wasn’t even a town but a village. The young man, whose name was Rajesh, would have been the toast of the town today. But 26 years ago, he was just a misfit. You see, he loved the temples, knew each carving by heart and could discourse on the trivia about hairstyles and jewellery with tourists at length. To his parents, he was nothing more than a no-gooder. It was doubtless because he didn’t cajole us for money but treated us all like equals. Still worse were the other guides who didn’t quite know how to handle Rajesh. They could hardly object to him on professional grounds because he took no money. Yet they could not keep quiet because when Rajesh was around, none of them got any business. Rajesh taught me a valuable lesson in life: keep your eyes open on your travels because you never know where and how your travel experience is enriched.

So when I went to Switzerland, it was a nameless café owner who defined my trip for me. Hergiswil on the banks of Lake Lucerne has a world famous glass factory that our friends the Kollikers had taken us to see. After wandering around the factory and the attached shop, we crossed the road to an open air café for an espresso, and—I still kick myself for it—I left my handbag on the floor near my chair. Next on our list was the town where a member of the Kolliker clan lived, so we drove a considerable distance before I realised that my bag and I had become separated. Andrew Kolliker the default driver for our adventures across Switzerland, had to check his map (in the days before GPRS), figure out a way of getting off the motorway, all the way back to Hergiswil. My heart slammed painfully against my rib-cage for the hour that it took us to reach the café, while Andrew gritted his teeth at the waste of time. I needn’t have feared. My bag was waiting for me, passports, cash and credit cards intact at the cash counter. When Elisabeth Kolliker tried to thank the lady at the café, she was brushed off. “We haven’t done anything out of the ordinary”. Perhaps she hadn’t. In a country where the very sound of an ambulance alarm causes every car on a motorway to stop and turn at a 45 degree angle to make an instant passage on the road, keeping a handbag till the owner claims it, really isn’t such a big deal after all.

India and China are always compared to one another. “The elephant and the dragon” are two giants of Asia. But my experience in the centre of Shanghai showed me that there was, in fact, no comparison. My friend, the glamorous Tao Yin and I walked from my hotel in Huaihai Road to Nanjing Road, via the India Gate-like expanse of park and museum. Being a pedestrian walkway, most of the young lovelies there were 20 year old fashionistas in mini skirts and sheer stockings, walking on the highest heels one can find. Loitering, walking, strolling, standing… In the midst of all this was a man from the countryside. He was laying large limestone kerbstones on the sides of the pavements. He worked with fierce concentration, never taking his eyes off the stones. He would measure each stone, then measure the space it would take. Next, he would place the stone with great reverence in its appointed area and measure again and again, surveying it from all angles till he was certain it was exactly in line with its neighbour. After which he would go on to the next one. Yin was on a rather lengthy call to her colleague in Beijing, so I had around 15 minutes to get a ringside view of the action. A middle-aged man, straight from a village in India working in, say, Khan Market or Pali Hill, would probably spend more time shirking work, if not actually gawping at the fashion pageant around him. His eyes never strayed once. I call it a miracle. And not just an economic one!

So, you’ve heard of the South Beach Diet and the Californian lifestyle. But have you been at the receiving end of it? I have. On a work trip to Los Angeles, I was to meet the communications team from an almond and pistachio company. After we flew down to Death Valley in the private jet of the company Chairman, the three ladies and I had dinner at a hotel. Each of the ladies was of a different ethnic origin, including one Russian. Dinner was fascinating because of the conversation, where they effortlessly spoke of their childhood. Though the setting was LA, each lady had a different experience because of the first generation culture. From conversations with grandmothers about native cultures to becoming healthconscious Californians takes just two and a half decades.

At our dinner, the dishes that were ordered by my hosts had the optimum amount of nutrition and the least amount of calories. Still, there was an apple crumble on the dessert menu that I secretly had my eye on. When the waiter came to take our order for dessert, the three ladies shrank back in horror. “No no,” they said with one voice. “No desserts for us at all,” followed by an outraged roll of the eyes. That’s when hope died. I always think of the USA as a vast, open-air United Nations. The races that have been assimilated into that country encompass half the world. One rainy evening in Seattle, my friend and I were trying to guess the nationality of our cab driver. He kept stringing us along. Finally, he told us that he was from Ethiopia. “Wow,” I squealed. Ethiopia has some mighty fine coffees. “Where in Ethiopia?” “Sidamo,” was the poker faced reply. (Sidamo coffee is highly prized in the international market). So now, when I want to boast, I tell people that I’ve been driven in a cab by the owner of a Sidamo coffee plantation.

Then there’s Shah Rukh Khan. He has travelled the world either in person or through his movies. And collected many tens of thousands of fans from the most unlikely of places. When I went to a barely inhabited island off Malaysia, called Pulau Tioman, the single resort there had a small spa. I promptly booked myself for a treatment and spent a decadent hour in the hands of a young lass who said she was from neighbouring Indonesia. As I was leaving, she idly asked me where I was from. Equally idly, I replied “India”. She shrieked “India? Shahrukh Khan?” She refused to take the gratuity I was offering her. Instead, she gave me a message to deliver Khan. “Tell him to come to Pulau Tioman. I am waiting to give him a massage.” Promising to deliver the message when I next met Khan, her words still ring in my ears: “Tell Shahrukh I’m waiting”. So imagine my surprise when I went to Bali and a tour guide took to calling me ‘Ibu Marryam’ (ibu meaning aunt) because he loved Indians–they shared a country with his idol. You guessed it. Shahrukh Khan. Sudra—for that was his name—would sing me songs of King Khan’s movies in Hindi. Being Balinese, he didn’t speak or understand a word of Hindi, but could, apparently sing in that language, inspired solely by SRK. I myself didn’t think it was possible, until I went to Paris.

Sonu Nigam and I arrived in Paris more or less simultaneously, though not, I must clarify, by design. The Marketing Manager for a very large multinational company who I had to meet, could hardly concentrate on telling me about the cheese his company manufactured. All he could blabber on and on about was the number of songs of Shahrukh Khan films that Nigam chose to sing at his concert the previous evening. Loic told me with shining eyes how the entire auditorium would sing along loudly for King Khan’s songs. “And how did all you Frenchmen figure out which was an SRK song?” I wanted to know. That was when a wheel of Vacherin was almost flung at me in exasperation. My travels have taught me one valuable lesson: leave your pre-conceived notions at home.

Simple food which makes one happy, is the best dish served

Every good story starts with a great beginning. In case of Michelin Star Chef Vikas Khanna, his culinary saga begins from the time he was a boy living in an extended family. “My first memory of food is of a meal with the whole family sitting together. I remember that my grandmother would say a silent prayer of gratitude for the food that we were about to eat. I was intrigued by these small rituals which brought food and family together. To me they were intertwined—both elevated our beings. I was intrigued by how one square meal not only nourished our bodies, but our souls, too. It was this wholesome aspect of food that attracted me and I decided to be a chef. Even as a boy, I knew I wanted to make food to make people happy. I understood the power of food in a very different dimension as I grew up rolling breads and doing seva at the Golden Temple,” says the Chef who was born and bred in the holy city of Amritsar.

Khanna’s notion of food—to a great extent—is spiritual. And it is not about the meal on the plate. It is about the company you eat with. How wholesome, tasty and simple food makes one content. It is as much tied to the city Khanna grew up in, as it is to its social culture. “Of course, yes! Amritsar did leave a footprint on my food journey. There is so much to learn from the city of my birth (Amritsar). I was first introduced to the food and hospitality world in there. I always think that life’s first inspiration, and the first cooking lesson, are like its first love. It serves as a foundation for the rest of the life.”

Like several other chefs who really, really, love doing what they do, Khanna’s other inspiration includes—not strangely enough—music. “I am a die-hard fan of Lata-ji. I was recently speaking to her. I told her that my biography starts with a mention of my first childhood memory in which I would wake to Lata-ji’s bhajans and aromas wafting in from my Biji’s kitchen. Music and food have a lot in common. Both bring us closer to who we are. Both make us happy.”

And for a lucky few, food also gives us a direction in their lives, like it did for Khanna.

His first cooking assignment as a hospitality student was—besides making dough for rotis—a hand-churned mango ice-cream during summer. “I can still make a killer mango ice cream. The preparation is always fun, getting the pulp from ripe mangoes, crushing ice and mixing it with salt and then adding cream and sugar to mangoes. I took my assignment very seriously.”

From being a hospitality student in Amritsar to being one of the most-sought after chefs abroad, Khanna believes that the journey was straight-lined.

“I had worked with Chef Gordon Ramsay in 2005 for Kitchen Nightmares for an episode on Dillons. During the show we started Purnima, my first restaurant. I am very proud of Purnima even today as I met some of the crucial team players of Junoon during that time. When the show aired, Rajesh Bhardwaj saw me cook on television and he expressed a desire to meet me. We met and discussed about junoon (passion) for Indian food. After five years, Junoon—the restaurant—was formed. It took immense amount of training and planning, I cherish every moment of this journey.”

Junoon is Khanna’s Michelin Star awarded Indian restaurant at New York City. Saying that Junoon has so far won rave reviews would be an understatement. As one of its reviews states, “More avant garde restaurants shove you into something new; Junoon attempts a gentler nudge. The desired effect is a simple one: to have its diners, who may not otherwise give the cuisine a second glance, see what Indian food really tastes like when made with quality ingredients and careful technique.”

And even the New York Times review gushes that Junoon is more than about the food—as dinning should be. And none of the reviews gloss over the fact that Khanna’s biggest driving force is to showcase true-blue, home cooked, tasty, wholesome Indian food.

“You see, opening a restaurant, I was born for it. This is the only thing I had dreamt of. I would dream, breathe, work everything for it. My life is simple and straight-lined as I have grown step-by-step without making a jump. I used to work as a dish washer-cumkitchen helper at a small restaurant in Upper West Side, NYC. Then, Salaam Bombay, Tandoor Palace and Purnima—three very distinct Indian restaurants in NYC—happened one after the other. Every training I received in New York City was important, they were all like classes. And then Junoon became the test for all those lessons.”

Despite a tight schedule of telly appearances, authoring books, and an expanding restaurant empire, Khanna tries to stay within the kitchen as much as he can because it is where the magic happens. “I would say cooking sets me free. It connects me to the higher self, it’s my expression of art. I still cook as much as I can and whenever I can.” And we ask the chef who has been putting Indian food on the global cuisine map, as what he thinks to be good food? “Good company. It does not matter where you eat or what you eat. Most important is who you are with and every meal is a feast. Having said that good vinegars and lots of spices are super important in any kitchen.” And after achieving so much more what next? “I am all over Coastal India. And soon you would know why. Super excited!” He leaves us intrigued and—hungry for more!

HOW TIME FLIES! As the year rolls to its last days, we are reminded of the incredible journey that the DW team has taken so far. We have completed two years of publishing, and while it feels that only yesterday we published our first issue with Mr Analjit Singh on the cover, as we look back at the list of personalities that we have had the fortune to interact with, we feel blessed indeed!

Today, we can say that most of the who’s who have been featured on our covers. But there are many more that we look forward to interact with in the coming year. As long as we have your good wishes and advice to guide us forth, there is little to worry. In such a poignant time, I am reminded of my father, a legend in his own right who foresaw the need for a magazine such as Democratic World. He was and remains always, our inspiration. As always, his ideals remain the guiding force behind DW, our slant towards positivity, truth and dedicated journalism.

Unfortunately, 2013 has had a slew of sexual harassment which is depressing news—not just for working women but for Indian citizens as a whole. Perhaps it is time we examine our public space dynamics with an open mind. As India gets ready to take on its rightful place as one of the leaders in this new world order, its citizens need to evolve as well. I am truly hopeful that in 2014, there would be more dialogue made to make 2013India an egalitarian space for men and women, rich and poor. That we will be able to come out a better version of Vishakha Guidelines, one that will be attentive to the needs of all young working people in India.

This was also an year of incredible moments. DW have chosen to focus on two of these in our main story—one that changed cricket in India for ever; the retirement of Sachin Tendulkar. And the appointment of Raghuram Rajan as the Governor of the Reserve Bank of India. To give a twist to our own tale in this second anniversary issue, we have asked prominent people to comment on these two legends. Read on.

Continuing our theme of newsmakers 2013, we also spoke to director Anand Gandhi, who’s films have redefined alternative cinema space in India. And we spoke to everyone’s favourite parallel actress Kalki Koechlin.

Finally have a positive year end, and be with us as we step into our third year.