First of all, I would like to congratulate Chyetanya Kunte and Barkha Dutt, that very powerful beacon of free speech on NDTV, for proving that bloggers actually exercise more power than we think.

I had not heard of CK’s ‘blogsploits’ (that can be a new word — exploits on a blog) till I got a forwarded mail about the TV giant asking Kunte to apologise for saying things without proof.

I read the apology too. It sounded cool in its legalese, where Kunte says that Barkha Dutt’s reporting did not result in the death of Kargil soldiers and that she didn’t give away crucial information during 26/11 about hostages.

After reading the apology, I felt CK did not even write it because his writing style on his blog is different. Of course, I have no information to back up my claim, just as CK didn’t have proof to back up his.

Now, we all know how Barkha reaches where most of us can’t. She had a hoarse voice by the end of 26/11. I could see why she is where she is. So, CK you gotta be careful man! If you wish to nail her (I don’t know if I have the legal right to use such a phrase), you have to have these things on record: what time she said what she said, what were the words used and who was she talking to.

I didn’t watch much of NDTV during 26/11 because I got sick of Barkha’s reporting after a while. I am not talking about ethics and all (being a birdbrain I’m unable to analyse such stuff). I just got sick in the way I got sick of Jude Law’s British accent while watching the film Breaking and Entering.

Honestly, I was flipping channels during 26/11. It was exciting in a guilty sort of way. I can imagine the terrorists flipping channels too, and it was work for them. Poor devils!

Anyway, with qualified info you could have at least put up a decent fight in court, CK. But I don’t know if anyone can beat NDTV in court even if you had all the information. So, I guess CK did the right thing. You can’t be David for one lousy blog post, right? In real life, Goliath is tougher.

However, the fact is one lousy blog post made Barkha mad. That’s what is making me happy. I was beginning to think blogging was leading me nowhere. I must pat you on the back for that, CK.

We must thank Barkha Dutt for making CK apologise. We must. Oh Chet!

By the way, I just realised why I was calling Chyetanya Kunte CK. It was not because I wanted to shorten his name. I would have used Chet if I wanted to do that, after Chet Baker. I used CK because my sub-conscious told me to. I am in Hong Kong, and Calvin Klein’s got big spaces in this mall-land.

Malls, especially those as big as the ones here, affect your sub-conscious. The cackling of Cantonese, with its aaaihs/ waaooh/ uuoooii accents, is hard to handle after a while. It’s like everyone is either, surprised, angry or clowning around.
Though HK is a great example of urbanisation, the Chinese people are a superstitious lot. For instance, I am staying in a building that has 34 floors. But it does not have that many floors because the Chinese believe 4, 14, 24, 34 are inauspicious — basically any number that has 4 in it, as 4 is ‘sei’, which stands for death.

My life just got more difficult: I have to now worry about blogging in a more restrained fashion and wonder if posts 13, 14, 24, 34, etc will bring bad luck.

O’s cool

I like Obama. I don’t like him in the fashion of the Muslim world, who feel comfortable with ‘Hussein’, O’s middle name. I don’t like him because he stands for change and is a true global citizen, having grown up in Indonesia with Kenyan parents.

I like Obama because his favourite musicians are Miles Davis and John Coltrane. I am glad O and I are on the same groove, that we bob our heads the same way to the double bass. I know what he says when he says ‘change’ because he means change in Miles’ fashion.

If anyone’s heard Miles’ On the Corner, you’ll see how radically Miles changed jazz.

I also like him for breaking a promise he made to his wife. Real married men don’t always keep promises. Real love never hinges on a promise. O told wifey Michelle he would quit smoking once he entered the White House race. But then he is human and only a smoker knows when times are tough and a goodly meal is in you, a smoke is like fumigating your soul.

From the North East to finding the mainstream in Pune, it has been a long journey for Mirror scribe Santanu Borah. But, he has finally made his home here and given the alertness of a deskie, his observations on the city are truly glocal