Culture is the common language of the world we live in. The language of music, dance, art knows no boundaries and binds all people in oneness that transcends hatred, strife and divisions. The Kala Ghoda Arts Festival is an expression of the inclusiveness of art where all gather in a joyous spirit of celebration of the finest talents producing momentous and uplifting work. Truly embodying the concept of One World.
From Feb 5th to Feb 13th, Mumbai sparkled, shimmered and shone with a parade of Colors, Art, Music, Plays, Dance, Movies, Children Activities, Book Readings and Walks that revive the heritage of the City.
Visiting and shopping at the various street stalls run by Artists across the country and taking in the visual treat of installations, paintings and photography at the Rampart Row Street Fest was a real treat.
Watching dreams come alive and reviving our senses every evening at Rampart Row Street in a myriad of colors and a host of other events.Perfect weather for 9 Family Day Outs to visit, de-stress, enjoy, meet interesting people and take in the color that is India – ONE WORLD.
It was definitely ‘One soul, one sound, one taste, one color, one step, one beat and ONE WORLD’ and Awesome fun to be a part of the history of the Kala Ghoda Festival.

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal

If there’s a motorcycle god, it’s got to be a Bullet!

It’s a shrine dedicated to Bullet Baba. And such is the faith that hundreds of devotees turn up every day to pray for a safe journey. The god in question: A Royal Enfield 350.
It’s hard to miss the unlikely shrine near Chotila village, around 20 km away from Pali en route to Jodhpur on the highway. Every day nearby villagers and travellers stop and pray to the bike and its late owner Om Singh. The temple beside the Enfield motorbike has a big picture of Singh, fondly known as Om Bana.
It is said that a person who does not stop to pray at the shrine is in for a dangerous journey.

The story goes that about 21 years ago, on a fateful summer night, Om Bana was returning from Pali to his native Chotila on his bike when it skidded and hit a tree, killing him on the spot.

The tree stands over the battered vehicle till date. Villagers say after Om Bana’s death, the motorbike was taken to a local police station. But next day morning, it was found at the accident spot.
Police initially thought it was a prank and after emptying the fuel tank they brought the bike back to the station. However, the motorcycle was again at the accident spot the next day.
“As soon as the story spread, people in the nearby village built a platform on the spot where the death occurred and started offering prayers,” said Chotu Singh, a resident of the nearby village.
The temple has a priest who manages daily affairs. Many shops offering incense sticks, flowers, coconut and red thread meant for offering prayers have sprung up near the shrine.
Local people sing folk songs in the name of Om Bana who owned the Royal Enfield.
Travellers, especially drivers of vehicles that pass by, offer prayers at the site, which is almost in the middle of the road.

Some drivers also offer a small bottle of country liquor at the site, praying for a safe journey. “Whenever I pass this area, I never forget to light incense sticks, offer liquor and lie prostrate in reverence,” said Jagdish Singh, a taxi driver.
Devotees also apply the ’tilak’ mark and tie a red thread on the motorbike.
“Villagers here believe Bana’s spirit still hovers around the place and they can hear the Royal Enfield rev up at night,” said Hem Singh Rajput, the resident of a nearby village.