Woke up on Thursday, May 13, with nothing more than a mug of masala chai on my mind. As the fragrance of elaichi wafted around my Boston apartment, I switched on the computer to check if my grades had been posted.
Minutes later I let out a yell, danced out of my room and babbled incoherently to my roommate about Murli Manohar Joshi getting his comeuppance. She ran a hand through her blonde curls and smiled indulgently at me, though she didn't know Joshi from hell.
ALSO SEE: Festive mood at IIM-A as Joshi loses
Why am I so excited about an election result when I am on the other side of the world and had, therefore, not voted?
It's mainly because Joshi lost his seat. Could justice be sweeter and quicker? God alone knows how many hours I spent stewing over his arrogant, malevolent attack on the IIMs.
ALSO SEE: The IIM controversy
No, I am not an IIM alumna. No one in my whole khandaan has ever gotten into the IIMs or IITs. But as an Indian, I'm proud of the IIMs and the IITs. As a graduate student in an American university, I enjoy the reputation Indian students have for brilliance and I know a lot of it is due to the IIT and IIM alumni who have succeeded all over the world.
Joshi's consistently devious attempts to mess with these institutions only because Nehru is credited with setting them up is the kind of low-down, destructive politics we need to grow out of. Joshi took the voters for fools. He assumed all he had to do was sound a populist note and not many would see through to his real motives.
May all politicians take a lesson from his defeat. The Indian voter is now a mature and aware entity. Three cheers for that!
Reshma Trenchil, Boston
'She's the one in the sari
Like everyone, we in Dubai were shocked and surprised by the BJP's rout in the recent general election and even more intrigued by the prospect of Sonia Gandhi becoming prime minister.
Post-election, a group of us from India were having an informal discussion in the smoking room of our office. Some felt India was definitely not ready to accept Sonia as PM -- what with her foreign origin and all -- while others felt she was more 'Indian' than many so-called Indians.
The discussion led to an argument, with each side sticking to their guns, when our Australian design editor walked in.
Just when it looked like things were getting out of hand, he shut everyone up with one telling comment, "No doubt she may have been born outside your country, but man, today's she's the one in a sari."
Ivan DeSouza, Dubai
What difference will 10 minutes make?
We were expecting a lot of relatives to stay with us for a family function and decided to make room moving some of the less-used articles to the loft.
Our son Nikhil, who is seven years old, was at his grandma's while all this re-ordering took place.
On his return, he found all his toys missing -- they, too, had been moved to the loft -- and raised a huge hue and cry. His mother had no choice; she agreed to retrieve some of the toys.
I was in office when this happened.
My wife was unable to reach the loft. "It's too high," she told Nikhil, "and I am short. Wait till your Baba (which is what Nikhil calls me) comes home. He will bring your toys down."
Nikhil refused to be consoled and continued to throw tantrums.
"Okay, okay," said my wife. "I will try again after 10 minutes." She thought he would forget about the whole thing.
"What difference will 10 minutes make?" Nikhil asked her. "Are you going to grow taller?"
My wife was shocked. She was left with no alternative. She had to borrow a stool from the neighbours and get his favourite toys down.
Vijay Naik, Hyderabad
S-L-A-P!
It was the summer of 2003. I had just completed my engineering and returned home after spending the last five years in a hostel.
In four months, I would be leaving for Chennai where I had been offered a job.
Before that, I wanted to visit as many relatives as I could. I had also asked one of my cousins to stay over at our place for a few days.
The three of us -- my cousin, my brother and me -- had just finished visiting a relative who lives near my home. We were standing near the gate and still talking when my cousin, who was getting restless, saw something interesting and immediately wanted to share it with me.
In her enthusiasm to get my attention, she waved her hand towards my face. Unfortunately, just before that, she had called out to me. I turned and palm met cheek at considerable speed.
The resultant thud shocked her, my brother, our relatives and me. And the passers-by, most of whom must have thought it was another cocksure young roadside Romeo was getting his comeuppance.
Abilash Ramani Krishnan, Bangalore
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Illustrations: Dominic Xavier
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