Migration in a Globalized World!

So, the Second IPL has moved to South Africa, bag and baggage, not to forget Preity Zinta, SRK, Shilpa Shetty, et al. Whether the cine stars are part of the bag or baggage is another story! Thankfully, some cricketers too will be traveling to RSA, I presume.

When the IPL was being shifted to South Africa in the wake of the Taliban attack on the Sri Lankan cricket team then playing in Pakistan, there was much hue and cry in India, understandably so, of course. What is the IPL if the Indian crowds can't throw mumphlis, orange peels, paper planes and an occasional stone or a water bottle at the guys in the next row or the opposite team members! There was no fun, if India and Indians were taken out of the IPL, it was rightly argued. And what, by the way, had South Africa to do with IPL, it was genuinely asked.

Conceded, South Africa has a legitimate claim to the Father of the Nation; agreed, also, that there are many Naidoos. Rows, Patels and Sivasankaranayagams settled in Limpopo and Mpumalanga: but IPL at the Wanderers? Na, nahin, nyet, nie!

Any way, Palaniappan Chidambaram adjusted his dhoti and said emphatically, no, not possible. Pawar play didn't work; the Modi without the mask but only bank accounts and land records too couldn't do much. So, IPL had to go to the nether continent minus the screaming one billion plus! Neither the world's largest democratic tamasha nor the world's biggest cricketing entertainment could wait!

But, pray, tell me, what is the hullabaloo all about? Aren't we living in a globalized village where the territorial boundaries are getting increasingly blurred? People move and migrate as never before in human history; they acquire employment cards of green and several other hues as also citizenships, settle own in far corners of the world, wake up at Wayilwan, have breakfast at Beijing, lunch at London, dinner at Dallas and sleep at Sydney. And Indians haven't lagged behind either in this mass migration!

At any point of time, there are Indians holding office as President or Prime Minister in different countries - be it in New Zealand or Singapore, Fiji or Mauritius, Guyana or Trinidad and Tobago. They have made home in the nooks and crannies of the world, far away from their native lands and villages. After generations, they still celebrate festivals with the same gusto as only Indians can do, or with `traditional gaiety and enthusiasm' as dear old Doordarshan continues to proclaim! And whenever the cricket team plays ' apart from when Sania Mirza rolls her arms ' they turn out in their thousands with drums and flags as inevitable appendages! No wonder Flintoff, Kallis and Ponting feel like aliens in their own lands when they are playing against Dhoni and Co.

And if the whole world has been home to Indians, haven't we too been very hospitable to the world at large? After all, Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam has been a fundamental precept of our age-old philosophy! Every race and religion has found a fertile soil in the Indo-Gangetic plain. It was a foreigner who in 1885 started the beginning of the end of the British rule ' so, it is only poetic justice that today we have an Italian lady presiding over the Grand Old Party! Let us agree that these are all bound to happen in this shrinking world. Who would have imagined a decade ago that a certain gentleman of Kenyan origin going by the name of Barack Hussein Obama will become the President of the US of A in 2008!

The moral of the story is that nothing is for certain in this increasingly shrinking world where geographical boundaries are fast losing sanctity, except if you happen to be fighting for God forsaken lands where `not even a blade of grass grows'.

Let us come back to the IPL for a moment! Capital grape wines have it that in the aftermath of the IPL move to South Africa, hectic parleys are on for many more such `mid-event' or `mid-career' moves. Since this is the election season, there is lot of `moving' going on ' of course, when it comes to `career moves', who can beat our netas! The `moves' are going on such a frenetic pace that no one knows for sure who is with whom! The churning is on in full swing ' only time will tell who lands where at the end of May: one thing is for sure ' the enterprising ones will all be there where the Chair is!

Apart from the electoral and political moves, yours truly is privy to some major moves about to take place (don't forget that the satta market operates in all its glory in our country). Kindly note that apart from sporting action, several other major events are also being shifted out. Please keep the info., confidential, though, for obvious reasons!

>The Barclay's Premier League will now be held in Khartoum, Sudan.

>The UEFA Cup has been shifted to Suva, Fiji.       

>The German Bundesliga goes to Maldives.

>The Spanish La Liga will be organized in Wolof, West Africa.

>The Italian Football League in Tigrinya, Ethiopia.

>The US Rugby National Championship Series in Jaffna.

>The US Open Golf in Chittagong.

>The Ryder Cup Golf between the US and Europe in Saramaccan, Suriname.

>The Winter Olympiad will be held in Nagpur in May instead of in Zurich in December.

>The US MLB World Series in Karachi.

>The 2009 NBA has been shifted to Jalalabad.

>The All England Badminton Championship will be held in Sara-Ngambay, Chad.

>The Tour de France will be organized in Cochin, which reportedly has the best roads in the world.

>The London Marathon has moved to Lesotho and the Boston Marathon to Beirut.

>The Monaco Grand Prix goes to Mongolia, Budapest GP to Bugi in Indonesia, Sao Paulo GP to Sakao in Vanuatu and Silverstone GP to Kathmandu.

>The Indian Kabbadi Championship will be played out in Sicily.

>The National Kho Kho Championship will be held in Reykjavik.

>The Maharashtra Mallakhamb tournament will be held in Seattle.

>The Grand Slams too have shifted base: the Australian Open at Shimasiwa, Comoros; French Open from Rolland Garros to Mandinka, Senegal; The Championship at Wimbledon to Timbuktu; and the US Open from Flushing Meadows to Seselwa in Seychelles.

Wag says that some other changes are also imminent!

>The Brazilian Carnival moves from Rio de Janeiro to   Swat Valley.

>Puri Rath Yatra will be organized at the Madison Square Gardens.

>The Carnaval de Quebec and Calgary Stampede both are awarded to Gandhinagar.

>The Edinburgh New year Festival, Hogmanay, will be held in Bamian.

>The Albert Hall switches place with the Shanmukhananda Sabha.

>Dublin's St Patrick's Day celebrations will held in Kuwait.

>The Bastille's Day moves from Paris to Palestine.

>The Chinese New Year Parade will be held in Greenland.

>The Republic Day Parade will move from New Delhi to Shipibo in Peru.

>The Fourth of July goes to Ho Chi Minh City; last heard, Havana was also bidding.

>New Orleans loses out Mardi Gras to 24 Parganas.

>Running of the Bulls will not be held in Pamplona Spain anymore ' it will be organized in Bathinda.

>The annual Thyagaraja Araadhana will take place at Taki-Taki, French Guyana, and not in Tiruvayur.

>All Fashion Shows ' Milan, Paris, London, and New York ' will move shortly to either Kandahar or Swat Swat Valley.

>The Guruvayoor Elephant run will he hosted in Vienna.

>The Mother of all Poorams, the Thrissur Pooram, will be held in Munich; as a reciprocal gesture, the Munich Oktoberfest will be staged in Thrissur.

>The Grammy lands in - Peshawar!

>And the Oscar goes to ' Kabul!

Please let me know by money order if there are more such `moves' on the move!

"And we are back", says Google!

I first met Google some three months back. As I walked into my relative's house that evening, I found him all bouncy and excited. He was just about six months old, I was told, but he was a bundle of energy for all I can recall now. He came to every guest of the day, made friends, expressed interest, and even disagreed with a few! All agreed, though, that he was loveable, as any six-month-old could be. By the time the party ended, Google had taken up most of our time, what with everyone having to say something or other about his varied moods and debonair looks, and not the least his voracious appetite!

 Yes, Google loved eating ' and he ate anything that came his way, animate or inanimate! I remember the hosts saying how they couldn't sleep on many nights due to Google's demand for more water, or more food, as the case may be. Naturally, over eating meant the mandatory visit to the clinic.

Yet, Google, in the half year that he graced the house, occupied the center stage. Every one vied with the other seeking him out, pampering him, engaging him ' and feeding him!

So, when I got the mail some two weeks back saying Google had gone missing, I knew the family must be in dire distress. The mail, already addressed to some fifty odd friends, narrated the sequence of events of the early morning when he disappeared without a trace. Initially they thought he must be hiding somewhere just to tease or torment them, as was his wont, but as they day wore on, they were sure that he had indeed gone missing.

Thus began Operation Google Search!

To begin with, e-mails were issued to all friends, relatives and acquaintances in the National Capital Region. Bit notices with Google's smiling photo were printed and circulated in a 10-km radius of the residence. They spoke with rescue shelter authorities across the city and its neighbourhood. Radio stations were alerted, TV channels were sounded (for breaking news, of course); the very illustrious Times of India thought it appropriate not to dedicate the entire 36 pages demanding war on Pakistan and to spare a box for Google, again appropriately, on page 3!

By the way, patrolling was intensified in the vicinity of where Google was last seen and a handsome reward was proclaimed. The mass mail with a request to further Forward (without any suggestion that calamity will befall if this was not done or that all wishes will be granted if the request was acceded to) to everyone around was a very important measure the family undertook with all sincerity and seriousness.

Needless to say, what kept the family awake, apart from the agony of missing Google, was the thought of the one-year-old missing his feed, more than anything else.

Of course, as it happens, especially when there is a reward to be claimed, there were many calls of Google's sightings; unfortunately, all of them turned out to be hoax ones: the family truly pitied the Delhi police who are favorite victims of such hoax calls, they were to say later.

As the days passed, gloom settled in, what with no comforting information coming in from any quarter. Hope was slowly giving way, and they feared the worst. The mass mails, the phone calls, the reward, the neighbourhood vigil, nothing seemed to lead anywhere.

Then, one Saturday morning, the phone rang: that was a call from a bus driver who seemed certain that he knew Google and his whereabouts. To the worried family, he asserted that he had seen Google at a downtown crossing where some urchins and others were teasing, if not troubling him. Taking pity, the guy took Google home in the very same bus itself. The Good Samaritan claimed that he had entertained Google for 2-3 days in his one-room tenement that was shared, among others, by his only wife and three kids. Google was very happy, more so when the family decided to starve themselves to feed their guest in the proverbial Indian hospitality tradition.

But you will agree that this arrangement couldn't have worked for long, however good-natured the driver and his family were. So, he discussed the matter with neighbours and other assorted well-wishers. Lucky Google, now it was the turn of the bus conductor to turn altruistic. It seems the bus itself was lucky for Google! The only condition the conductor laid was that Google would have to shift base from The Capital to a more rural setting. Then, with tears all around, Google walked away with the conductor.

So, the driver told the family that Google had moved to the conductor's house some 120 kms away from Delhi. And added for effect, the little guy loved the bus journey!

It so happened that a friend of the bus driver chanced upon the Google Search! And pronto he clicked on the "I'm Feeling Lucky" box! He got amazing results in the fraction of a second without ever having to do an Advanced Search or Image Search. He was sure Google was the guy who everyone was searching for!

Soon, our man called the driver who in turn called the conductor. The lure of the reward was very much there, but there was a catch too: the poor ones were worried that the Capital Police might `encounter' them for kidnapping! They debated endlessly and eventually decided to take the risk and establish contact.

Now, it was the turn of the family to scream, "We are Feeling Lucky"! They too clicked the box with gusto and reassured the driver, the conductor and the informant that the name of the Delhi Police would not be invoked: rather they themselves were afraid of the uniformed ones! God's name too was invoked to confirm that all would be fine, that safe passage would be ensured and more importantly money, as promised, would change hands! Driver and Co., clever as they were, put one condition, though: they wouldn't travel to Delhi, and Google would have to be picked up from the village. No problems, cried the family!

Off they went, full speed, to the village where they reached after about three hours of driving through mustard and sugarcane fields, praying silently that it should indeed be their Google. Their prayers were answered, and there he was, Google, as excitable as always, busily engaged with the family that had adopted him last. Of course, when he saw his old mentors, his excitement crossed all limits! True to his gregarious nature, Google had settled down quite nicely in the rural settings too. It was tough for everyone to control one's feelings and emotions at this reunion, more so when the time came for Google to end his latest adventure and return to Delhi. Google himself was overwhelmed when he bid farewell to his friendly short-time hosts. Of course, the money changed hands.

So, Google has returned to Delhi. The family is relieved that he hasn't suffered any trauma from his escapade nor has he got any visible signs of injury, except for a small scar on his tiny, fluffy, nose! They say he has become more worldly wise and mature: but the little rascal refuses to discuss anything about why or how he managed to embark on this expedition.

By the way, as can only be expected, Google has put on more weight in the two weeks that he had been away, probably thanks to the plebian food that he had walloped in large quantities.

Oh, I forgot to tell you: I asked them how come you call him Google and not something more Indian-ish, in Shammi Kapoor ishtyle, "Yahoo!" The answer was revealing: the family was looking for a Great Dane; the search went on for a long time without any success. Then they decided on a Golden Labrador Retriever and the search yielded instant success! Hence Google! I advised, let not Yahoo! hear this, or they will sue you for defamation!

The family repeats, "We are Feeling Lucky", though Operation Google Search took almost two weeks to bear a result!

Thank God, Google is back!

bow! bow!

 

 

 

The Great Australian Sale!

When it comes to competitive selling, it appears as if there is none to beat the quintessential Aussie. And what better medium than the 'great seller' e-Bay!

Last year, to be precise on 25^th January 2007, I had posted "Life on Auction" featuring the enterprising Nicael Holt who put his young soul on sale: e-Bay, naturally, was the sole sales agent for this noble soul. I had wondered then what all could go on sale beyond soul ' like blood, kidney, liver and the like. The Aussies are an adventurous lot, and e-Bay is equally venturesome, if not more than the Roos.

A year and a half later, I read this morning how daring and exciting things can be in this world of sellers, bidders and buyers, albeit with ample help from the Kangaroos and the e-Bay. News is that e-Bay has put on sale `a pair of lacy black knickers and an empty condom wrapper' found out by an aggrieved wife in her own bed, ostensible put to use by hubby dear while she herself was away at work!

Now, now, don't rush out: the `real things' are not on sale; it is only a picture, so, no hurry please!

Poor `anastella007' (that's what the name of the damsel in distress is) ' how can one find fault with her for being so vengeful? Was she not married to this cheater of a husband for 22 long years? How could she have looked the other way at this act of treachery and the objects of desire after all that they had shared as man and wife for over two decades? So, spare anastella of the dirty looks, even if she did a James Bond of sorts on the man who two-timed her by going public about `The Tart's Knickers' as she endearingly and creatively described them! I say anastella is indeed creative ' Ian Fleming would have been mighty pleased with a title like that for one of his favorite Bond books.

The offended lady hasn't been lying idle even after this wholesome act of reprisal. She has left her imagination and creativity both run riot and has given a kick where it hurts both the adulterators the most. For her husband of two scores and two, anastella said the condom wrapper was `size small’! Now, don't ever say she was small-minded! And about the woman who spoiled her bed and life both, she had even more uncharitable, if not unflattering things to say. In her own profound words, `The Tart's knickers were `so huge that I thought they may make someone a nice shawl or, even better, something for Halloween perhaps'! Can anyone here at iLand beat that description, I challenge!

But when one thinks of what hubby did to poor anastella007, one can only empathize with her agony and angst. The man had sent her a romantic text message that had made her rush home, probably taking French leave. Unfortunately for him, the stupid guy didn't expect things to get hot at such Phelps-like Olympian pace. So when our 007 landed sooner than hubby was ready for and what with the bed still warm from the previous romantic encounter, our man didn't know what to do and what to hide!

And then he did the next most senseless thing that most foolish men caught at the wrong time with the wrong one would do: he tried to dissuade Lady Bond from entering the action-packed room ' I mean the bed room ' and instead invited her to join him in watching a DVD film!

Such a dumbo, he must have been! He should have known better than to arouse the suspicion of legal wife anastella whose instincts, unlike his, were too sharp: no wonder she chose 007 as her surname, and not his! In she rushed to the arena and out she came fast and furious, with wrapper size small and knicker size shawl!

Out also went any thought of romance ' both for Mrs Bond and her dear hubby whose name remains unrevealed. I'm sure he would prefer anonymity for the rest of his life!

So, anastella goes ballistic and e-Bay grabs the opportunity. Thus the photo of the small and the big take centre stage on the auction portal. But she is not finished yet, our anastella, for she has realized that there is tremendous scope to make some quick money, sleaze or otherwise, besides taking sweet revenge on the man who did the trick on her.

Now anastella entices one and all that she has more things coming up on e-Bay for grabs. According to audacious anastella, she is going to put, what else, but her man's prized possession, under the hammer! Come on folks, don't get dirty ideas, ok???  What she means is, she has decided that the next item on sale will be hubby's Harley Davidson! And to rub it in, she declares it will be `at a start price of   99 Cents and, of course, with no reserve'! Hell hath no fury like an Aussie woman scorned!

At the end of it, I was curious ' as many of you would be ' why only the photo of the small and the big, and not the offending items themselves? Blame it on e-Bay: I am impressed, I must hasten to add ' after all, they have certain moral and business values to uphold, like the Swiss Banks who would never reveal the names of assorted politicians and the Mafiosi who have stashed away their laundered money in their Fort Knox like vaults. According to an e-Bay spokesman, angry anastella did want the original wrapper and the knickers put on auction. But a conscientious e-Bay told her that their policy did not permit them to put `second hand knickers' on sale! What policy maan!

Mind you, even when market forces have been unleashed everywhere in full fury, e-Bay sticks to a `policy'; more over, they are also quite clear about the `sanctity of marriage' and on the need to help those in need like our own anastella. So, in a candid statement on where they stood on the 007 episode, e-Bay says: "This is obviously very therapeutic for this woman and it must be a great channel for her views on cheating and the sanctity of marriage"! (Italics, mine!)

So, The Great Australian Knicker and Wrapper Sale is on! Great Going, indeed!

Headline Hunters II: Today's News

I am a bad leader I will not quit politics even though things haven't been easy for me: Govinda [Whoever quits politics! Govinda is certainly not a bad actor, nor for that matter a bad politico: see how well he learned the tricks of the trade!]

One striking feature of Mrs. Sonia Gandhi is that unlike most Indian politicians, she speaks little and does not give false hopes. She is precise, she does not comment unless it is necessary: Pranab Mukherjee [Pranabda could learn a lesson from Mrs.G, so also Govinda; did I hear someone say sometime back something like "maut ka saudagar"???]

I would request politicians to be honest: Shah Rukh Khan [I never knew that leopards would change spots on request!]

Nepal fumes as Prime Minister promotes daughter [Come on guys, grow up, learn from the brother next door!]

India should not become America's younger brother: Buddhadeb Battacharjee [But, please do send the Dollars, Bush-ji!]

Ministers resisting our recommendations: National Knowledge Commission [Let us set up another Commission to find out why the Ministers are resisting knowledge!]

Nothing less than ST status will do: Akhil Bharatiya Gujjar Sangharsh Samiti [Aren't we a status conscious people!]

Selectors invest in youth, no place for veterans [Gerontocracy works only in politics, it seems: and probably for cricket administrators!]

Gujarati voter registration forms to be introduced in New Jersey: [Modi-fication in the US???]

Long stay in hospital doesn't mean injury is serious: Delhi High Court [The shorter the stay, the grave-r the injury ]

It took Sarkozy 35,000 Euro make-up to become French President (and his rival Segolene Royal spent about 52,000 Euros) [Never knew that elections are won on make-ups ' or for that matter the French Presidency came so cheap!]

For Carla Bruni, Sarkozy is like Napoleon Bonaparte [There shouldn't be any Waterloo, though!]

I never doubted Bill's love for me: Hillary Clinton [More so, with the presidential elections round the corner!]

Sweetest Revenge: Indian newspapers on Aussie loss [Let it not turn sour, please!]

Sections of Aussie media blame the defeat on BCCI's financial clout and ICC’s    weak-kneed administrators [I thought the pitch was Perth and the players `the invincible Aussies': never knew Pawarji could fix even the Aussies!]

Aamir Khan got henna done on his face [Thank you, uncle due apologies to SRK!]

Preity goes back to the school [That will do a lot of good ' to check the drop-out rates!]

I am one of a kind. I have started the year by forgiving people: Rakhi Sawant [Amen to that! But please don't forget the New Year resolution this month itself ]

I can reveal that being a professional tennis player isn't half as glamorous as it may seem: Anna Kournikova [More so when one doesn't win any tournament!]

Most women would divorce if they could afford it, says British survey [Could anyone tell me what this is supposed to mean???]

Contrary to popular belief, most guys do want to get married ' eventually! [Read the British survey first, mates!]

Plastics linked to male genital defects [See where research and surveys are leading us to!]

Mind-reading cars may curb accidents [But they do not know of the mindless guys and gals at the wheel!]

There are very strong contextual differences between dogs' barks. But work is needed to determine which emotional states and characteristics belong to which breed: Hungarian scientists [woof, woof!]

It's The Year of The Earth Rat, according to the Chinese Zodiac [Every Rat has its Year! Be wary of the rats, after all it is their year!]

A solution for loneliness ' treat your pet as human [And what about the human, please?]

Clowns see red, say kids don't find them scary [Why only clowns, every adult sees red these days!]

Virgin's mobile plan in a month: Richard Branson [Branson should change his surname to Brandson ' and what a name, man, to his company!]

Actress Katherine Heigel has `confessed' that her sex life has got `ten times better' since getting married! [No comments!!! J]

The White Ambassador

Not long ago, Indira Gandhi was the monarch of all she surveyed, socialism was the mantra, Amitabh Bachchan was very much the angry young man ' and the Ambassador ruled the roost and the Indian roads both.

`Amby' to millions of its fans, it carved out a niche for itself in the nascent Indian automobile market. There used to be a wonderful advertisement, "Whenever you see colour, think of us" for Jenson and Nicholson, with the ubiquitous red post box in the background! In the case of the auto sector, it could well have been, "Whenever you think of cars, think Ambassador"!

Hindustan Motors say that they brought the car to the Indian market in 1956, after which there has been no looking back. Interestingly, HM quotes satisfied customers from far and wide to describe their product a `well rounded lady' ' which beats my imagination, even though Amby caught the imagination of the nation as a whole. It helped that there was virtually no competition, barring from the Fiat or the occasional Herald, Standard, and the like. No wonder, the HM speaks proudly of the `emotional connect' the Ambassador has with the Indian people.

By choice or otherwise, Ambassador became the car of the country, thanks also to the patronage it got from the state. Remember an ad of a fleet of White Ambassadors coming down the Rashtrapati Bhavan towards Vijay Chowk? That single picture tells a thousand stories of the might of the Ambassador in its heydays!

One didn't have to say Ambassador those days: one just had to say `the car'! It was everywhere, all though the nooks and crannies of India. East or West, North or South, the Ambassador was the Lord of the Road! It ferried the President, Prime Minister and high dignitaries; it also was the vehicle of the common man, except probably the then Bombay where Fiat was the `in thing'. `Taxi' meant Ambassador to every one of us ' and not any other car. Any mechanic worth his name and salt could take care of its ailments! High ranges or mere plains, rocky terrains or muddy waters, nothing was insurmountable for dear old Amby.

And to stand testimony to its timelessness, the Ambassador retained its features all through. The Mark 1s and 2s of the 1970s would as well have been the original 1956 version itself, with minor adjustments to the head or tail light or both, or the grill or the door handle! It didn't, though, matter to us: probably, Amby wanted to maintain its pristine purity and glory ' or, possibly, it didn't intend to hurt the feelings of Indians by reinventing itself! Whatever be the reason, the Ambassador remained the Ambassador.

The Grand Old Car of India held sway in no uncertain terms, even after competition came its way. The big bullies of the road were scared of its steely sturdiness, what to speak of the Marutis and its clones. The invasion of the hatchbacks also led to many auto jokes, the mildest of which used to be: "What did the Maruti do when the Ambassador suddenly came in front?" "Maruti su-su ki"!

But, as it happens, the nouveau riche had a different take as the money rolled in. Today, the small cars of Maruti fame are threatened by the big cars and the bigger SUVs. By the way, the small cars and the new cars were termed nuclear family cars by their media savvy ad-men: if that were so, the Ambassador was then the `joint family car' in the truest of Indian traditions!

Presidents and Prime Ministers, visiting Heads of State and Government, and assorted dignitaries, have been Amby's patrons. It was, for all practical purposes, the `State Car'. If we had a National Car, like the National Bird or the National Flower, it would certainly have been the Ambassador! Indira Gandhi was the last Prime Minister to lend further dignity to the White Ambassador; her son switched allegiance to Tata Safari and eventually the BMW took over.

Nonetheless, the White Ambassador even today stands apart on the Indian roads. The Amby of the taxi fame is, of course, there everywhere. HM has brought in new shades of colour too, not to forget more modifications in the head and tail lights, grills and door handles ' as they have been doing ever since their market monopoly was threatened. One even comes across `chic' Ambassadors ferrying real Ambassadors of foreign countries on the Capital's roads.

Undoubtedly, the White Ambassador has a special place in Indian minds, and not just on the Indian roads. If you entertain any doubt, please check out any state Capital in the country: even today, every minister, every senior government functionary and every government department has a White Ambassador. The President and the Prime Minister may have switched sides, but certainly not the ministers and others. The Esteems and the Indigos have indeed made inroads, but the roads still belong to the Ambassador. The red or blue light on top, the white leather cover on the flag rod in place, lace curtains drawn, the White Ambassador glides past, everyone else giving way, not out of fear of the convoy of Whites carrying black cats, but also in deference to the Amby ' and may be to its occupant!

I am told that even where other flashier cars are available, ministers and babus insist on the White Ambassador. The reason and logic are plain and simple: the White Ambassador represents state power and its occupant is considered to be a VIP, unlike the other cars, may be bigger or better, which do not inspire the same respect! A case for `Neighbours' Envy, Owners' Pride"?

In sum, the White Ambassador continues its majestic ride on the Indian roads. No wonder, HM says that the Ambassador was put on a special display for six months at the Smithsonian Gallery in Washington DC.

Three Cheers to The Ambassador!

Photo courtesy: Hindustan Motors