Prevent new converts from marrying immediately: Pak minority body

Pakistan's National Commission for Minorities has recommended that the government enact a law whereby new converts from non-Muslim communities are prevented from marrying for at least six months after conversion, as part of measures to curb forcible conversions.
The recommendation from the newly-formed body of minorities was made against the backdrop of a nationwide controversy over allegations of the forcible conversion and marriage of three Hindu women from Sindh province, which has Pakistan's largest population of Hindus.
The National Commission for Minorities, during its second meeting yesterday, further recommended that a judicial magistrate, and not a police officer, should independently record the statements of converts.
Currently, after receiving a complaint from the family of a convert, police registers an FIR under Article 161 of the Criminal Procedure Code and a police officer records the statement that is produced in court in the form of a charge-sheet.
However, minority communities claim statements recorded by a police officer are "mostly never based on facts", The Express Tribune said in a report.
There is a provision in Article 164 of CrPC under which a judicial magistrate can record the statement but the law is not implemented on the pretext that the magistrate is a judicial officer and should not record statements in cases that he has to ultimately decide.
The National Commission for Minorities, which is headed by the Minister for National Harmony, is a multi-party forum that includes two parliamentarians each from the Muslim, Hindu and Christian communities and one representative from the Sikh and Parsi communities.

Book review: And All Is Said: Memoir Of A Home Divided

Book: And All Is Said: Memoir Of A Home Divided
Author: Zareer Masani
Publisher: Penguin
Pages: 248
Price: Rs299
At one level, this book is a cathartic outpouring of a lifetime of repressed feelings. Though the writer Zareer Masani was showered with love as a child, being the son of two tempestuous personalities like Minoo and Shakuntala Masani was tough for him during his growing years, and he has written about this experience with unbridled candour. The predicament of being caught in the crossfire of his parents’ fights is underlined in the sub-heading of the book, Memoir of a home divided.
But the memoir is more than just a personal catharsis. Zareer’s parents were charismatic figures playing an active role in post-Independence politics. What emerges from the narration of their lives is an intimate glimpse into the workings of other political figures. Minoo Masani was a socialist, but after Independence, he became a staunch supporter of free-enterprise liberalism and a strident opponent of Nehru’s socialist policies. The clash of the two titans makes for entertaining reading, as their arguments are peppered with sharp, wry humour.
But before they went on the path of collision, Minoo Masani was very close to the Congress stalwart and often visited the Nehru family home in Allahabad. And he must have narrated to his son many an anecdote about these visits, some of which Zareer has recounted in his book. Apparently, at the breakfast table one day, Jawahar joked about a Parsi nationalist Feroze Gandhi being infatuated with his wife Kamala. “Minoo, can you imagine any man being in love with my wife?” asked Nehru ungallantly. And Minoo replied, “Of course I can! I could easily fall in love with her myself.” Unfortunately, the book does not reveal how Nehru reacted when, after Kamala’s death, Feroze transferred his attentions to Nehru’s daughter, Indira.
While Minoo consistently opposed the socialist policies of Nehru and later Indira, his wife Shakuntala became an ardent supporter of the latter. This widened the growing rift between the two firebrands to a point when reconciliation became impossible.
Sadly, Shakuntala sacrificed her marriage for political ignominy, as Indira soon banished her to the political wilderness, proving that in politics, no one is a permanent friend or foe. Shakuntala continued to hover on the periphery of Indira’s coterie, hoping in vain to someday get a plum posting.
Zareer’s account of his mother’s life — from being the pampered daughter of Sir JP Srivastava, a Viceregal Councillor during the British Raj, to being the wife of the brilliant Swatantra Party founder-member Minoo Masani, to depending on the occasional crumbs Indira Gandhi tossed her way — is tragic. Beautiful, rebellious, talented, Shakuntala was, at one time, the toast of glittering parties, with the likes of JRD Tata playing golf with her, taking her for long drives and even contemplating marriage. But she threw it all away by refusing, in her arrogance, to heed the advice of close family members. Her last months were spent in a National Health Service hospital in London, with none of her suitors beside her. Ridden with multiple health problems, tied to the dialysis machine, severely neurotic, it was an end totally unworthy of a figure as dominating and scintillating as hers.
And All Is Said is a rich tapestry of the times, with the waft and weft of numerous strands being skilfully woven together to produce a detailed pattern that is worth preserving. This is one for the bookshelf.

Review: Ferrari Ki Sawaari is a full family entertainment flick

A still from Ferrari Ki Sawaari

Film: Ferrari Ki Sawaari
Cast: Sharman Joshi, Boman Irani, Ritwik Sahore
Director: Rajesh Mapuskar
Rating: ***1/2
Having worked previously as assistant director on films like 3 Idiots and Lage Raho Munna Bhai, a simple feel-good flick with a message was what was expected out of Rajesh Mapuskar, and that's exactly what he delivers.
Cricket, Ferrari and the adventures of a middle class Parsi family is what this film revolves around. Ferrari ki... has a lot going on for itself on the surface. An interesting story line, a strong cast and of course the whole suspense involving whether or not Sachin Tendulkar will grace the film with his presence, is going to draw in huge crowds.
Any film with a comic element tends to venture into the realms of ridiculous, but in the spirit of the genre you just go with it. Rustam (Sharman Joshi), or Rusy as he is called by all, is an RTO officer and a damn straight one at that. As a doting father his life’s sole purpose is to make his son Kayo’s (Ritwik Sahore) dream of becoming a cricketer come true. This ever-smiling father-son duo live with a grumpy yet sweet old grandpa Deboo (Boman Irani) who spends his days watching TV and cracking peanuts.
When Kayo is given an opportunity to go to London to be part of a prestigious cricket camp, Rusy takes it upon himself to somehow get hold of the large fee of Rs1.5 lakhs in order to send him to London. Thus begins a crazy ride (or sawaari if you prefer) to get the money by “borrowing” Sachin Tendulkar’s Ferrari for a few hours in order to loan it to an MLA for a wedding. The events lead to one crisis after another and amidst all this, you come across way too many clichés, but if I make another peep about the plot I would be entering serious spoilers territory.
The connection between the Sachin’s Ferrari and a child’s desire to go to London and attend a cricket camp seems a bit farfetched, but then again in the spirit of the genre...
The best part about Ferrari ki... is its sincere performances. It’s not a star-studded ensemble but when you have such simple characters, you don’t really need one. Joshi is adorable as the honest and kind-hearted Rustam. Boman Irani is downright brilliant as a crabby old bawa and is successful in drawing out many laughs throughout the film. Sahore too is quite cute and does well as little Kayo.
Apart from the main caste there are many colourful characters without whom the film would not be half as entertaining. Seema Bhargava as the loud-mouthed wedding planner, is just hilarious and owns every scene she is in. The security guard who lets Sachin Tendulkar’s Ferrari just roll out of the gates without any question is another one to look out for.
The background score of the film can be described in one word, 'happy'. The music is upbeat and makes you want to jump up, throw your hands in the air and do a tapori street dance right there in the theatre. That said, the film could have easily done away with Mala Jau De and the title track Ferrari Ki Sawaari. Vidya Balan’s Lavani item number has been generating much buzz but it adds nothing to the film and in fact comes as an unwelcome pause in an otherwise decently paced film. The title track going ffff... rrrrrr... dekho ferrari is just plain annoying.
All these factors combined with a tear-jerker of an ending makes Ferrari Ki Sawaari a full family entertainment flick. It is a good way to spend your weekend and definitely your money’s worth.

Ride down memory lane

When & Where: On till July 10, Kala Ghoda Café

It’s hard to imagine our city without streets jam-packed with four-wheelers. But rewind back to India of the 1900s, and it was the simple two-wheeler bicycle that dominated the roads.
The bicycle was used by a large number of Indians across various sections of society and though the popularity of the vehicle has dwindled in the last 100-plus years; it still reigns as a popular means of transport with domestic workers, dabbawallas, doodhwallas and newspaper vendors.
Determined to showcase the history of this humble vehicle is photographer Pat who likes to collect and preserve old photos and has currently put together a collection of vintage pictures of bicyclists with the help of Kala Ghoda café owner, Farhad Bomanjee.
“A lot of photography unfortunately is ignored in this country. The bicycle is a simple machine that requires no fuel and is pollution-free. Countries like Amsterdam make full use of this mode of transport and despite its decline it’s still used in India too,” says Pat, who hopes to motivate more people to cycle. The collection of black and white photographs, are mostly from pre-Independence India, while a couple are from the 1970s. Members of the Parsi community are a common feature, while a few pictures are of Maharashtrians. Interestingly, a number of them feature women cyclists, a rarity nowadays. While one photograph highlights the joy and elation of a school child trying out a cycle for the first time, another shows four beautifully dressed women set to go into town. Each of these is centered on Mumbai, Dahanu or other parts of Maharashtra. Pat, who has been a professional photographer for the past 12 years, likes to source old pictures for his personal collection and plans to showcase some on the Jazz Yatra of the ’70s next. Meanwhile, on his agenda is promoting the bicycle as a viable source of transport and he even plans to open a bike rental shop sometime in the future.

Restaurant review: Bricklane grill

Bricklane grill
The Escape Hotel, 12th Main, off 100 Feet Road,
Indiranagar
Call: 42415555
Rating:***
White furniture, lovely exposed brick walls, music that doesn’t make you feel too old and an ambience that will make a lot of restaurateurs jealous — Bricklane Grill at the Escape Hotel on 100 Feet Road Indiranagar has been on the radar of many Bangaloreans for a while. Why else would the place be running to a packed house week after week? This partially alfresco restaurant, with an indoor dining section on an upper level, offers grills, a smattering of European, Indian and Parsi food, without having a menu that’s too heavy to handle.
On my first visit there, which was quite accidental, I found myself in the middle of a Juke Box night the place plays host to; a stream of people of all ages thronged the place as we found it terribly difficult to get a table. The service was slow beyond belief — it took someone nearly 15 minutes to get the menu — and the food was just about average.
My second trip was just the opposite. The place was almost full, but not crowded, the servers were less rushed and therefore, in a better mood and they truly went out of their way to make sure all the tables, at least as far as I could see, got what they needed.
Beginning with a Mixed Grill Platter, which I have to say right away, was far from being decent. The marinades and sauces were fine, but the meats were tough enough to be used as marbles and the chicken was beyond dry. Later,of course, my dish was replaced by an original platter of the same, after I was informed that what I ate was the ‘sampler dish’. Surprising — this would probably be the first restaurant that served non-approved meat to a reviewer.
So — the ‘actual’ meat platter was a lovely surprise. The Jack Daniels Pork Chops, where the meat is marinated in Indian spices and quite a bit of JD is grilled to perfection; one can’t help but love the part-sweet and part-char-grilled flavours in the meat.
What was truly lovely is that they’re experimenting with the rogan josh in the kitchen — so the Jack Daniels Pork Chops have the usual cumin, garlic, star anise, and some smoked onions for its marinade and then some rogan josh sauce is added to it, lending a lovely sweet-spicy effect to the meat. And the way the pork lapped up the sauces, the result was quite exciting.
The chicken breast, grilled with garlic chutney, sadly tasted as if someone had wiped some garlic paste on to it. Such a big difference, when one uses crushed garlic pods and garlic paste on something grilled, especially when the chutney isn’t cooked!
If not for the Merlot Beef where the chef pours generous amounts of a Merlot into the marinade to break down the proteins of the beef, I’d have sulked for the rest of the evening.
A word about the beverage menu — they have really put in as much as one can in a good bar menu. So,there are different kinds of wines, spirits and some neat cocktails. I had a lovely mojito with green apple cubes and it was quite refreshing. Their cocktails aren’t sickly sweet in general, even though my second one, a fresh watermelon martini had strong overtones of sugar syrup. Incidentally, the city has a shortage of some liqueurs (Kahlua, for instance) so, some of the cocktails might not be available till supply is straightened out.
Wondering which way to go next, we began with a Poached Pear With Goat Cheese Salad and a Cedar Grilled Salmon with Star Anise Foam and the Sali Boti (from the Parsi section). The salad, to describe it in a very trivial word, was ‘blah’. There weren’t enough pear slices in it, one had to literally ruffle through a jungle of greens to find them and when you did, they weren’t poached quite correctly. The pears were crunchier than they should have been and the salad leaves were more on the bitter side. The salmon, which looked very pretty, was cooked just right, even though I wasn’t quite sure if the star anise foam does anything constructive to the dish or not. The fish, which was cooked to the right texture, didn’t taste as smoky as it could have been and that was one of the only things that troubled me about the dish.
However, the Sali Boti was an absolute treat and so were the desserts, something I’ll get to later.
Sali (matchstick potatoes) served on top of a boti (cubed meat) curry is as comforting as food can get — irrelevant of which cuisine it belongs too. This particular curyy is cooked with apricots, tomatoes, onions, green chillies, ginger-garlic paste, chilli powder, turmeric, a bit of vinegar (for the sour effect) and a dash of jaggery. Served here with chapattis, you can eat this curry with rice, as well. The meat was as tender as it could be and the lovely play of flavours, none of any being too overpowering, made everyone at the table happy.
As did the Filter Coffee Crème Brûlée and the Treacle Tart — the custard for the crème brûléedidn’t have any air bubbles, was beautiful to look at and eat. It’s served with a slice of biscotti that is baked in house and you have to use the biscotti to scoop some crème brûlée on to and then bite down on the biscuit — nice routine!
And the tart played an unprecedented and yet, perfect companion. Loaded with walnuts and some chocolate and served in a tart casing, it was sticky at the right places and melting in your mouth every few seconds to just give you a tiny ‘O’ every now and then — I could have eaten one more of those; or maybe two if no one was looking.

Surgeon, Parsi family give new life to 63 strays

A chance meeting of noted cancer surgeon Dr Ravindra Bhalchandra Kasbekar with a Parsi family staying in Bhavani Peth has saved many stray canines from leading a dog’s life.
The Parsi housewife, who does not want her name to be mentioned, and Kasbekar have successfully handed over 63 dogs, which were hounded and attacked by urchins and slum dwellers, to well-off families in various cities for free.
Kasbekar said that veterinary doctors Tribhuvan Katre and Suhas Bokare also help them in their endeavour. Recalling the cruelty that these animals face on the streets, he said that one of the dogs could not stand after being mercilessly beaten by an iron rod. Another stray dog, who is now called Lioneil, was operated upon thrice as some kids had blown up a cracker near his ears.
The surgeon said that he spends one third of his earnings on these stray dogs, besides spending considerable time in their rehabilitation.
“I was fond of dogs since childhood and serving these strays gives me immense satisfaction. My adherence to Hippocratic oath also covers these faithful animals,” he said.