THE DIARY OF Z

For ITI employee Muniyappa (51), Gowramma was more than a wife. She was the motivating force and, as he says tearfully, “she was the Goddess who transformed me from a wayward alcoholic to a responsible family man. A person who gave new meaning to our married life. I swore by her love.”

And as if to test his love for her, Gowramma had once jokingly asked him, “How will you show your love for me after I am dead?”

“I’ll build the Taj Mahal in your memory,” he had said fiercely to her then.
Someone up there seemed to like the idea. Because only months later, 27-year-old Gowramma died tragically in a motorbike accident.

Life lost all its meaning for Muniyappa. He stopped going to work and became a man ‘afflicted’ by the loss of his beloved. But when old memories rushed to swamp him, he recalled his promise to build a Taj. It became his only mission in life.

Although, he comes from a poor family background, Muniyappa wasn’t daunted in the least. Like a man possessed, he applied for voluntary retirement from ITI. Armed with gratuity, provident fund and other benefits which came to about Rs. 2 lakhs, he set out to prove his dedication.

Muniyappa decided to build the Taj Mahal on a 40×40 plot in the graveyard near his house in Rammoorthy Nagar on the outskirts of Bangalore.

On the advise of his engineer friend L. Jayakumar, he appointed Karpuswamy of Velur for the job. Work started in due earnest in 1992, only 6 months after his wife’s death.

But the Moghul-esque enterprise was not without hurdles. “At first, the authorities objected to the building of the tomb. Then I asked for their permission. When there was no answer, I began to build the memorial regardless, because I knew that once it was built, no one could demolish it. There is a law that protects these kind of monuments,” he told Bangalore on Friday. Apparently, the authorities did not come in his way and he carried on monument-building.

But very soon, Muniyappa realised that Rs. 2 lakhs was nowhere near enough to complete the task. Unfazed, Muniyappa turned to real estate, where he thought he could make some money. With sheer grit and determination, he succeeded in selling houses and earned enough to complete the job.

His dream became a reality after 6 years of unrelenting pursuit on January 14, 1998.
Not to lose sight of his goal, Muniyappa had not shaved in all those years. “The beard reminded me of the promise I had to keep to my beloved,” he told this paper. Only when the Taj finally took a bow on Vijayanapura grounds, did he shave off his beard.

“My Mahal may not be as big as the real Taj Mahal, but my love is definitely greater than Shahjahan’s,” proclaims Muniyappa, who has plans to invest another 4-5 lakhs to make his Taj Mahal picture perfect: with a milky-white fence, entrance door, a rose garden and a musical fountain. “That is, if I do well in my business,” he adds cautiously.

But there is one thing, Muniyappa is very certain about. His wife’s continuing presence. “To me, she is still alive. Even now, I hear her call out to me when I’m at home.

“One day, I will be re-united with her,” he says, wistfully.
P.S: When this writer called his home six months later, his second wife picks up the phone. She happens to be the sister of his first wife! Not really a Shahjahan, is he?

PS Arora (45) wanted to become a doctor. But destiny had other plans for him and today, he is a pilot. Flying for Indian Airlines over the past 10 years, Arora is a happy man. This writer caught up with him at Computer Shop on Brigade Road in Bangalore where he was hunting for game CDs.

How did you become an airline pilot?
I wanted to become a doctor but couldn’t get through the qualifying exam. Then, I joined the NCC Wing in Delhi University where I was selected (as one of the 10 best cadets) for a 60 hour aviation course. I got a private pilot’s licence and then a job with Indian Airlines. Now I feel it’s a better profession than a doctor’s.

What do you like about the job?
Good money and you meet the best people… from businessmen, politicians, bureaucrats to models, fashion designers and film actresses. You get to see the best places in the world. Ask any child. They only have two ambitions: either to become a doctor or a pilot. But all the doctors I have met want to be pilots!

You must be earning a fantastic salary?
No comment.
What’s your major expense on?

CDs. I own CDs worth Rs 3 lakh.

How many hours do you fly a day?
6 1/2 hours. Sometimes, it’s 9 1/2 hours.

Are you trained for emergencies?
Sure. Every once in a year, we have a simulator session where we deal with emergencies like the engine catching fire, the wheel getting jammed, evacuation, etc. But in my 10 years, there haven’t been any snags. Touch Wood! Air travel is the safest. More people get killed on the roads. Tell you the truth, I’m more scared to hit the roads.

Tell us something strange about being a pilot.
In every plane, there are 2 pilots, one for back up in case the other pilot is unwell. For the same reason, both the pilots cannot eat the same food… if it’s food poisoning, both will fall ill.

How often are you with your family?
Home is a distant dream. I fly 6 days a week. My wife finds it difficult, and it’s a trial for her and our child. I keep in touch with them over my ‘roaming phone’ every alternate day.

What does the job require most?
Physical fitness. Pilots are supposed to be young till they retire. Every 6 months, we need to pass a medical test, without which we cannot fly. The test is tough compared to other countries… they are done by air force people who go by air force standards.

Done anything exciting lately?
I bungee jumped in Dubai last year. I saw 2 or 3 ‘oldies’ (senior pilots) doing it and I thought why not me. I paid Rs 2,000 to jump from a height of 150 feet. In the beginning my heart was racing, but after that it became normal.

How would you describe a pilot?
He must be patient, with a sharp mind, a cool-head and able to make quick decisions. A man like me.

Sai Sethuram (58) has spent most of his life on the pavements of Bangalore’s Kamaraj Road, providing balm for both the body and soul of people who stop to seek his counsel. His ‘office’ is under a tree in the car park and for the past twenty years, he has read palms and dispensed traditional Indian medicine. When this writer approached him, perhaps seeing opportunity, Sethuram immediately demanded Rs 1,000. But fairly soon, he settled down to speak about himself. Talking about one’s self can be a heady experience, and Sethuram revelled in it.

Where did you learn palm reading?
(Reveals a crumbling book on palmistry) I have this book that… (mumbles inaudibly) I have been using for the past 20 years on this very road.

How many predictions have come true so far?
I don’t know. Not many people come back. Every time it’s a new face. But yes, most are satisfied with what I say, I can know from their facial expressions.

What else do you do?
I treat people who are sick. I am a healer. Since I have spent time in the forests meditating, I understand the healing powers of medicinal herbs. I have medicines for leprosy, paralysis, joint pains and heart problems.

Are they effective?
They are good.

(There are two mangy dogs sleeping beside him) What about these dogs. Are they yours?
No. They belong to the Army office across the road. But they prefer to stay with me. They follow me around wherever I go. They have grown fond of me. There’s a deeper meaning to it. While most humans ignore me as they pass by, as if I don’t exist, these creatures crowd around me. They understand my greatness.

How is the astrology business these days?
Very dull. It has been several days now and not one person has shown his palm to me. Probably they think a sadhu cannot be of help to them. Most people park their cars here and go shopping on Commercial Street.

How much do you charge?
Since business comes only once in a while, I charge Rs 50 or Rs 100 for predicting their future.

So why did you ask me to pay Rs 1000?
I thought you would profit from my picture.

What do you mean?
You might sell my picture or win a prize in a competition. You would become famous and I’d still be sitting here.

I see that you’ve stuck a picture of Shirdi Saibaba on the tree behind you. Are you a devotee?
Yes, he’s my everything. I live for him.

Would he approve of your smoking? I saw you smoking as I came here.
Yes, so what. Shouldn’t a swamiji smoke? After all, he’s also a human being.

But then, what sort of an example are you projecting to the people?
A straight-forward personality. It’s better than the people who look decent but are evil.

These are scams you are likely to see on the Internet. Be aware and avoid them like the plague.

Business opportunities scams: These offers make it sound like it is very easy to start a business that will earn piles of money without much work, selling or cash. Many of these “opportunities” are actually illegal pyramid schemes that are masquerading as legitimate opportunities to earn money.

Make money by sending bulk email: These solicitations offer to sell you bulk email lists (consisting of millions of email addresses), spam software (usually very poor in quality), or services to send spam on your behalf.

Chain letters: No list of scams would be complete without this old favourite - email style. Here you’re asked to send a small amount of money (or some item) to each of four or five names at the top of the list, and then forward the message including your name at the bottom. Many of these letters claim they are legal - they are not. Further, nearly everyone who participates in these chain letters loses money. Even if there is a “product” such as a report on how to make money, it does not make these schemes legal.

Work-at-home-schemes: The most common work-at-home scam promises that you’ll earn money for stuffing envelopes. For example, you’re promised you’ll earn $2.00 for every envelope you stuff. In fact, there never is any real envelope stuffing employment available. Instead, you pay to register and then you’re instructed to send the same envelope-stuffing ad via bulk email to others. The only money you can earn would come from others who fall for the scam and pay to register. Finally, if you did actually do work for one of these outfits (for example, some promise to pay you for craft work), they’d refuse to pay you and say your work didn’t measure up to their “quality standards.”

Health and diet scams: These are similar to the miracle cures offered off-line: ways to lose weight without eating less or exercising, “scientific breakthroughs,” “secret formulas” which provide cures for hair loss, and herbal formulas that liquefy fat cells so that they are absorbed by your body. These scams often include testimonials from “famous” medical experts you haven’t heard of. Of course, these gimmicks don’t work.

Effortless income: The newest version offers get-rich-quick schemes to make unlimited profits exchanging money on the world currency markets. There are lots of variants, but they all promise vast riches with no work. Beware of these scams.

Free goods: These offers promise expensive items such as computers… for free. They ask you to pay a fee to join, and then you have to bring in a certain number of other members. Many of these scams are just disguised pyramid schemes.

Investment opportunities: These scams promise outrageously high returns… and of course, there is “no risk.” Many of these scams are illegal Ponzi schemes, in which early investors are paid with the money from later investors. This gives the early investors the illusion that the system works and they are then encouraged to invest more money (which they eventually lose). The sales pitches for these offers include claims of high-level financial connections, that the promoters are privy to inside information, or promises that they’ll guarantee the investment. The promoters are long gone if you try to take advantage of their “guarantees.”

Guaranteed loans or credit, or easy terms scams: There are lots of variants of this scam: home equity loans that don’t require any equity in your home, loans regardless of your credit history, offshore bank loans, credit cards regardless of your credit history, etc. Sometimes these offers are combined with pyramid schemes that offer to pay you for attracting other participants to the scheme. However, they are scams - the loans don’t come through, you are turned down unless you meet stringent requirements, or the credit cards simply don’t arrive.

In my 12 years in journalism, this 1999 story on the scams perpetrated by the American Biographical Institute, stands out… Sadly, this scam continues to happen till date though the frequency is much less now.

Here is an extract from my 1999 report for a weekly tabloid called “Bangalore Weekly”:

Do you want to become the International Man (or woman) of the Millennium? If you have US $245 for a ‘Warrant of Proclamation’ you needn’t bother with achievement and accomplishment. Just send an international money order or a Eurocheque to the institute and they’ll send you a citation announcing your selection for this honour. And if you are willing to pay them US $405, they’ll send you the citation, laminated on a nice wood plaque for better effect.

If you intend to have both the Warrant of Proclamation and the Medal of honour, you will have to pay US$510 (without lamination) or US$665 (with lamination). And then send a copy of the ‘certificate’ to the leading newspapers who will be happy to publicise your name.

The International Biographical Institute (IBI), Cambridge, England and the American Biographical Institute (ABI), USA are handing out certificates like ‘Man of the Year’, ‘The 2000 Millennium Medal of Honour’ to anyone prepared to shell out the prescribed fees, ranging from Rs 10,000 to Rs 28,000.
And helping the IBI and the ABI find Indians in search of accolade without too much activity, is The Indian Institute for Talent Search (IITS) in Mysore. Headed by one S Ramananda, anyone who wants an international award only has to send him a letter.

Among the many Bangaloreans who have been approached by IITS in recent times is a gentleman named Regret Iyer, whom we wrote about in Jan 21 issue of Bangalore Weekly. Iyer, who appears both in the Guinness and Limca books (where money cannot buy you fame) was initially drawn to these awards because of their supposedly high profile patronage. “I was introduced to Mr Ramananda by a friend. When I sent in my biodata with a list of achievements, I was asked to pay up a whopping Rs 20,000 if I wanted to be the ‘Man of the Year’. Now where can I get the money? I am a poor man but an achiever all right. My father even told me to sell off some ancestral property to get the award… but my conscience did not permit me to do so,” said Iyer, who is disgusted with the state of affairs. “It seems that anyone can become Man of the Year. The institute also asked me to nominate 20 others, people that I felt would deserve the prize.”
The IBI and the ABI appear to operate in the manner of some popular pyramid schemes, gratifying the egos of men and women who want fame and are willing to pay for it… at any price.
“I could have nominated the roadside vendor and he would have received a letter announcing his ‘selection’ as Man of the Millennium,” Iyer told Bangalore Weekly.

You can even earn the title of one of the ‘Outstanding People of the 20th Century’. The letter written to Iyer by one Jon Gifford of IBC goes something like this: “We have specially commissioned a magnificent Outstanding Achievement Diploma (US$150) to commemorate your inclusion in this celebratory publication. Our designers have also created a fine Outstanding Achievement Medal (US$150) which will be engraved with your own name to again commemorate your inclusion in this important book.”

The International Biographical Institute call themselves ‘one of the most highly respected and long established biographical publishers in the world today.’ And claim to have ‘honoured’ more than 195,000 individuals from almost every nation in the world… for a price, of course. These people figure in the Who’s Who International Biography brought out by them.

The case is the same with the American Biographical Institute, USA. They are offering ‘The 2000 Millennium Medal of Honor’ to anyone willing to pay US$295 (first medal) and US$199.50 (additional medals each). The form reads: ‘Yes, I wish to be one of the few who receive this century’s most revered honor from the American Biographical Institute, USA, who will make known the honor through my choice of media, anywhere in the world. Please reserve — 2000 Millennium Medal (s) of Honor in my name. I am eligible for one or more of the medals so that I can place one in a secure place for posterity and safekeeping, and the other for wearing for ceremonial occasions…”

Iyer says that these institutes are aggressive in their marketing. “When I did not respond to their ‘Man of the Year’ offer, they sent me another offer for the ‘Man of the Millennium’, but at a lower price. Anyway, the title doesn’t hold any sanctity because ultimately, many people are given the ‘Man of the Year’ award.”
The letter Iyer received from the Indian Institute for Talent Search dated Sep 24,1998 goes something like this: “Dear Applicant, I am glad to inform you that you have been selected for getting nominated for the awards and honours of the American Biographical Institute, USA and the International Biographical Centre, Cambridge, UK by the Indian Institute for Talent Search, Mysore, India. You are one amongst 68 achievers from all professional fields from Karnataka State (list enclosed for your reference) and 512 International Achievers (256 Men and 256 Women) selected by our Institution in a Press conference held on 18th September 1998 at the Bangalore Press Club.”

That explains why most newspapers go ahead and publicise the so-called ‘achievers’ without so much as a second thought. The letter is signed by Mr S Ramananda who claims to be the Deputy Governor of the American Biographical Institute Research Association, USA. He calls himself a scientist, doctor, author and poet.

When Iyer did not respond to the letter, he received another letter dated Nov 30 that said arrangements were being made to invite US President Bill Clinton for the award ceremony. The letter said, “It has been more than a year since the Institution selected all of you and announced its plans to felicitate all of you and award certificates of recognition for being selected for getting nominated for the Awards and Honours of the American Biographical Institute, USA and the International Biographical Centre, Cambridge, UK. Although our inaugural function was supposed to be as early as in December 1998 we had to propose it to April 1999 as we could not get the Hon’ble Prime Minister of India whom we planned to call as our Chief Guest. Meanwhile we thought of calling the US Ambassador to India our Chief Guest but could not get a date from him. At this time, the General Elections were announced and all our inaugural plans could not be put to place until October-November 1999 and now we had talks with the US Embassy in New Delhi through our representative and we plan to have our Inaugural Function in early 2000 coinciding with President Clinton’s trip to India where we are planning to call him as out Esteemed Honoured Guest…”

The letter ended with an ‘Opinion Poll’ that outlined step-by-instructions on how to get the ‘certificates’. It said, ‘1) I wish to get my certificate by mail without bothering about any felicitation or inaugural function. 2) I wish to get my certificate in a very simple function at the Regd Office which can be arranged within 1 month. 3) I wish to get my certificate in the Inaugural Function of the Institution “TALENT EXPO 2000” planned during President Clinton’s visit to India early next year.’ Unfortunately for the IBC, Clinton has since postponed his trip indefinitely.

This should come as a revelation to leading newspapers that have always publicised these ‘awardees’ with great aplomb. Only recently, a geologist from Bangalore received the award and was widely publicised in a leading daily.

The letterhead of S Ramananda’s Indian Institute For Talent Search is a virtual who’s who. Aside from Iyer, there are many other Bangaloreans who have made it to the list of ‘Outstanding Indian Achievers from Karnataka.’

Dr Radha Murthy of Nightingale Home Health Services is another Bangalorean, who, like Regret Iyer, turned down the ‘millennium honour’. She told Bangalore Weekly, “I don’t believe in paying to get a medal of honour. My work speaks for itself.”

Some of the people who have taken the IBC and ABC route to quick fame include an environmentalist, a scientist from the IISc, a musician, a reknown historian, several social workers, educationists, doctors, sportspersons and theatre personalities. Whether or not the accolade was justified, one thing is clear; the ‘Institutes’ in question have made a pretty packet from Bangaloreans seeking fame. And leading dailies have accorded them publicity without verification.

Shoot them dead with your look.

Remember a garment company called Viagra, that ‘stood up’ in the market with shirts for men. What’s in a name, you may ask.

Plenty, says Shekhar (320 who owns Jeans Sequence in Alankar Pearl Plaza on KG Road. “I’ve named the jeans ‘AK 47’ and ‘RDX’.  Names like these connect with the masses. Muslims buy these jeans because they like the sound of the names. Hindus buy the jeans because they are fans of Shivarajkumar, hero of the film AK 47. I sell 25-30 pieces every day. Business has picked up well. These jeans are available in 40-50 different colours… no other company has such a wide range.”

The jeans costs anywhere between Rs 275 and Rs 495. Shekhar says that ‘AK 47’ jeans are also popular with women. He says the quality of the jeans is assured. “We get material from Arvind Mills. The jeans will definitely last for 2-3 years. The colour might fade after some time, but only slightly.”

At Bangalore’s famous sperm bank, demand far exceeds supply. The thirteen-year-old Cryo Bank in Jayanagar has been approached by childless couples from politicians to scientists, film stars and CEOs of big companies, all of whom have one objective. A child to complete the picture of domestic bliss.

Cryo Bank officials say these couples insist that their offspring comes from the finest gene pool available. The qualities they seek are: fair complexion, good looks and intelligence. As a result the sperm bank will not accept samples unless the donor has a post graduate degree. “No PUC or under graduate students,” they say.

China made international headlines with similar criteria. The Chinese apparently preferred ‘smart sperm’ of people who had done their MA degree to ‘run-of-the-mill sperm,’ of illiterates.
Ahlada Rao, who is the administrator at Cryo Bank, blames customers for these standards. “Ambitious parents only want children who are fair, handsome, intelligent and qualified.”

The interview process for a donor is exhaustive. He is tested for cancer, jaundice, AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases. His family history is scrutinised to determine genetically transmitted disease, but the data is entirely based on the honesty of the donor. If the donor is unaware of his family history, he is asked to find out. According to Rao, some donors back out at this stage because they don’t want to alert their parents to the fact that they are donating sperm.

Rao adds that a donor has to return in three months because, “If the donor is infected with AIDS, we come to know only after 3 months. Sperm count should be 60-80 million per ejaculate. We check freezability. Some sperm do not survive freezing in liquid nitrogen at -182C.”

Cryogenically frozen sperm can be stored for several years. Rao says, “It can last up to 18 years in specially designed cryogenic containers. How long the sperm lasts depends on the type of container used. It can even be one minute.”

The bank only accepts donors between 20 and 35 to ensure quality of the sperm. “The good thing is that once a person becomes a donor, he stays away from indiscriminate sex. Because if he doesn’t, it shows in the semen test. We tell him to stop it. We need quality in every sense of the term,” said Rao.

According to him, two factors restrain young men collecting the Rs 130 the bank pays per ejaculate. “Some youngsters don’t come because they are worried about what their friends and parents will say. Others simply don’t know of our existence. The problem is that doctors are prohibited from advertising.”

Before Cryo Bank regularised sperm donation, getting artificially inseminated was haphazard and risky in Bangalore. Rao explained, “Impotent men would put the onus of conception on the doctor. ‘Do what you can, but make my wife a mother’. The doctor would either inject his own semen into the woman’s womb (with or without her knowledge) or take any ward boy’s semen to meet his client’s demand.” He laughed as he recalled, “Husbands would quote the Mahabharata to the doctor and ask him to help them. Did you know that in the Mahabharata, the Pandavas were born out of a Muni’s (Veda Vyas) semen?” Rao added that very often the wife was unaware of what was going on. “Some husbands trick their brothers into donating semen… just to maintain genetic ‘characteristics’ within the family.”

Today, Cryo Bank has changed all that. “We don’t sell semen samples without a doctor’s prescription,” says Rao. Gynaecologists and urologists recommend patients to the sperm bank. “We don’t want to get into any medico-legal hassles. Our responsibility ends with the delivery of the semen sample.”

Once the sample is handed over to the client, it is usually taken to a nursing home or hospital, where the ovulating woman is awaiting insemination. Once the sperm is thawed, the doctor has about half an hour to complete the procedure.

According to World Health Organisation (WHO), about 20% of the world’s population is infertile. Sperm count that stood at 120-130 million per ejaculate 50 years ago, now stands at 60-70 million. Scientists say this is due to pollution, alcoholism, sexual over-indulgence and venereal disease. WHO claims that traffic policemen showed a significant decline in sperm count because they were most exposed to air pollution.

Started in April 1996 by Dr Veena Rao (Ahlada Rao’s wife), a biochemist and microbiologist and Bhashini Rao, a reproductive physiologist, Cryo Bank has to date, sold over 13,000 semen samples. However, success doesn’t always come at the first try. Sometimes, it takes 6 or seven attempts. “Sometimes, people get fed up and stop coming for more semen samples,” said Rao. “It’s like lottery. If you’re lucky, you hit the jackpot the very first time itself. And this has happened in 1% of the cases that have come to us.”

Chances of artificial conception stand at about 20% “as is the case with natural conception,” explained Rao. He extrapolated that approximately 600 couples in Bangalore had successfully produced children, directly as a result of Cryo bank.

The bank sends samples all over South India to Nagarcoil, Thirunelvelli, Trichy, Madurai, Trichur, Karnool, Hyderabad, Warangal, Mysore and Madras among others. Rao presently has a dozen such sub centres and expects the figure to go up to 150 in the next 10 years. Impressed by the demand, Dr Veena Rao opened one more centre in Thane (Mumbai) recently.

But in Bangalore, the bank is woefully short of semen samples. Donors stand at a meagre 50 when there are currently 200 couples waiting to become parents. Rao would love to have some of the city’s luminaries on his donor list. “Our ultimate aim is to get the leading lights of Bangalore to fulfil the needs of an ambitious society.”

But Rao is apprehensive about the future. “Given the nature of human destiny, what if some children turn out to be mongoloid from the semen we have sold? No matter how quality-conscious you are, these things can never be ruled out. If something like that happens, how can we protect ourselves?”
Rao is trying to get insurance cover for his business, “But sperm banks are a new phenomenon in India. Insurance companies are saying they will look into it.”

The Cryo Bank is located at #1872, 11th Main, 38th ‘A’ Cross, 4th ‘T’ Block, Jayanagar. Phone: 2664-0719 or 2664-0131.

Old Poor House Rd, near Commercial St, is where you will find one of the oldest working clocks in the city. On a wall in the Jumma Masjid is a clock that has been keeping time since 1907. It was presented to the mosque by M. Yousuff Sait, one of Bangalore’s only watchmakers at that time. This pendulum clock, manufactured in New York by Ansonia, tolls every half-hour.

Sait maintained the clock himself, winding it every Friday after the noon prayers. On his death in 1948, his son, Z. Yousuff Sait took over the routine and has continued since.

The clock is oiled and cleaned every three or four years, but what is most fascinating about this particular keeper of time is that no parts have been changed over the past 93 years.

Oh that today’s chronometers were made so well!

Here are a few vignettes I came across that I find extremely handy. Try them out.

* Your tools will stay corrosion-free if you apply automobile paste wax on the steel parts.

* Some chalk pieces and a few moth balls in the tool box will keep moisture away.

* Sticky drawers, in tables, cupboards, cabinets? Run a candle over the grooves, they will glide.

* Fishing line is good for re-stringing your beads. It won’t break and it is flexible and easy to thread.

* Planning to get your house painted? You can banish the smell of paint by adding 2 tsp. vanilla essence per quart of paint, or, place a large pan of water with 1 tbs. ammonia, in a freshly painted room, leave overnight. A large onion cut and put in a big, open pan of water also removes the smell.

* Use cooking oil to remove paint marks on your face or hands. It won’t burn.

* An inexpensive way of finishing picture frames is to paint them with liquid shoe polish. Use one coat, dry, and then apply another coat. Finish with wax paste. Dark brown colour gives mahogany finish and tan appears light maple in colour.

Business @ The Speed of Thought
Bill Gates / Tech / Rs 856.80

The world’s biggest geek strikes again. And this book, like all the books written by those who became rich, will be bought in large numbers by those who want to become rich. “Business…” states its premise in the opening sentence itself, which reads, ‘Business is going to change in the next ten years more than it has in the last fifty’. But a quick read through suggests that this more a sentiment that a well-organised plan of action for change. It also has little relevance for India, where electronic business is mired not in red tape but also in lethargic bureaucratic reaction.

Facing the Mirror
Ashwini Sukthankar / Lesbianism / Rs 295

Voyeurs will only be mildly titillated by this book. It is a collection of the writings of several women, all lesbians, who have things to say about their experiences. Some are poems; some are narratives of particular experiences such as placing ads in the personals seeking fellow lesbians. The book purports to be a voice for the many women who seek each other out but have “borne silent witness to distorted reflections of their reality”. Many of the authors’ names are obviously masked but on the whole, the writing is so uniformly good as to present the notion that it has all been re-written by one person.

The Origins of Non Violence
Martin Green / History / Rs 195

A fascinating account of Gandhi and Tolstoy “in their historical setting”. Through this, Green embarks of the academic exercise of providing a basis for comparison between Russia and India; Lenin and Marx; Gandhians and Tolstoyians; and anti-Gandhi and anti-Tolstoy sentiments. The links are sometimes tortuous, often tenuous, but never less than provoking.

The Ground Beneath Her Feet
Salman Rushdie / Fiction / Rs 395

Rushdie steps forward in time from his previous oeuvre (The Moor’s Last Sigh) and deals with the pop culture of our times. The narrative moves from India, through England and the US. It is the story of Vina Apsara, a captivating singer, who is lost in an earthquake. And of her lover, Ormus Cama, who finds her, loses her and finds her again. The narrator is a photographer, Rai (not necessarily Raghu). Underlying the story, as all Rushdie’s works must, is the inter-play of cultures of East and West, something on which the master is well, the master.