I received my first hate mail a few months ago. But it didn’t dishearten me – Winston Churchill’s famous words came into my head: “You have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood up for something, sometime in your life.”
Last week, the Delhi High Court upheld the death sentences of four men accused of raping and murdering a student on a moving bus – a case that caused fervent outrage amongst Indians and led to a subsequent change in anti-rape laws. Although the defence will appeal, many Indians who demanded the death penalty may feel justice is finally being served.
Although he is not as well known in the western world as Ravi Shankar, any Kolkata citizen will know the name of Pandit Nikhil Banerjee and his legendary status in Hindustani classical music. As I write this piece, in a few hours, 27th January 2014 will mark his 28th death anniversary.
According to the Associated Chambers of Commerce and Industry of India, 35% less women visited India in the three months after the attack compared to the same period last year.
Since December, rapes have persisted and mass protests have erupted across the country, pointing at inefficiency in dealing with such crimes and an inherent patriarchal nature. But there’s one clear observation from the outcry: some of the voices belong to India’s men.
Indians awoke on Monday to find their 162-year-old telegram service rendered obsolete, superseded by SMS, e-mail and Twitter.
Arguably one of the oldest victims of the digital age, telegrams were the fastest communication method from the 19th century.
“Theatre of Dreams” reads the plaque on the classroom door of Manchester United Soccer School in Mumbai. Nutritional advice and tactics are scribbled on the whiteboard and a Wayne Rooney portrait hangs on the wall.
But if the future of the domestic sport lies at the feet of new talent, youngsters are dreaming of playing in stadiums abroad, not at home.