Let me start with a confession though – I have never known what to do with a ‘juicer’. I am not particularly found of juice, and while shopping around for a food processor, every one of those focused on making juice out of something or the other. Between discussions about wattage, blades, attachments and jars, I felt utterly lost. I tried a few – but in the end the kind of cooking I do (from grinding masalas, making chutneys to throwing in a piece of turmeric) needed a desi mixer-grinder. So this time when I was in India, I decided to buy one.

As an aside, for my mother, it is a Sumeet or nothing. But a Sumeet was nowhere to be found in the depths of Gurgaon.

Anyhow, while shopping for a food processor, one of the features that is sold to you is the ‘locking system’, which means unless the jar is perfectly aligned and closed, it won’t operate. In the UK it’s usually ‘Your hands are safer this way, because you may turn it on unintentionally – and we all know what blood does to ground coffee beans‘.

The sales pitch in India was along the lines of ‘Your maid can’t ruin this mixer grinder with her chopped off fingers and so it’s a good investment‘. The realities in both countries glare at you. (Also, the sales guy lost a little respect for me I think.)

In search for the right mixer-grinder, I went to Spencer’s, Croma, Big Bazaar and a few other places. All of them had pretty much the same products, but in the end it was the store that asked me questions about how I was going to use, how often I would operate it, if I wanted a juicer, if it was going to be used in India or elsewhere got my business. Not so much because I thought they were honest. Every store has its pet product it pushes – but any interest in how I will use this little beast, makes me feel like the sales rep is recommending after considering.

But the final word? My sister’s. She and her new extended family own one particular brand and make, all bought in the last few years. Done. Decided.

This time, more than ever, and perhaps because I was there on work – I really did spend a lot of time figuring out what stores make me happy, where I like to buy things, and what convinces me. Turns out, I am real easy. Talk to me, make me feel slightly important (even if I am only buying a piddly mixer-grinder) and pretend you’re offering me a discount. See – Easy.

PS – How many bloody jars does one really need in a food processor?

In short, the daughter of an immigrant turns into a rabid anti-immigration politician. And then gets tired of the country she lives in and moves to another, because she’s looking for peace and contentment. (Of all the countries you can find peace and contentment in – if it is at all possible – she chooses the UK).

Australian former anti-immigration politician Pauline Hanson is selling up and heading to Britain, according to an interview with an Australian magazine.

She told Women’s Day that Australia was no longer a land of opportunity and she had “had enough” of living there.

Ms Hanson built a career on claims that Australia was being “swamped by Asians”

Oh oh. Does she know how many ‘Asians’ live in Britain?

Are you or someone you love dating a banker? If so, we are here to support you through these difficult times. Dating A Banker Anonymous (DABA) is a safe place where women can come together – free from the scrutiny of feminists– and share their tearful tales of how the mortgage meltdown has affected their relationships.

Yes, there’s been a lot to suggest that economic downturns ends of “saving marriages” because people can’t take the financial risk of separating ways. But what when you are only dating?

Relationships have little to do with love anyway. What breaks relationships in these turbulent times is not just a matter of finances, but how the chequebook forever looms in the background. The constant stress is more of a killer than unstable finances.

Now, where’s the blog for the SOBS (Spouses of BankerS)?

You would think the lack of political choice would have been a thing a multli-party system doesn’t have to contend with. But here’s a tough one. The elections will be held sometime next year. Who will you vote for? Considering that in most constituencies they pit equal goons or crooks against each other, choosing one person over the other, is rather hard. Therefore, you choose a party. Let’s say you prefer a regional party – they exist and operate within the context of national parties, especially when it comes to general elections. So here’s the choice – Communist Parties, Congress or the BJP.

My economic sensibilities are closer to the BJP. They have been more pro-trade. More pro-infrastructure investment. It’s not for nothing that someone referred to the BJP as a party of Banias. The BJP is heavily influenced by the trading community. However, I loathe their Hindutva agenda. I hate the fact that they think they represent my religious concerns. They scare the hell out of me with their anti-outsider rhetoric. I can’t digest the fact that no action was taken against Modi. Ever.

The Congress party baffles me. I don’t understand what their economic policy is. Their emphasis on the rhetoric of welfare is pretty senseless. Mostly because it is rhetoric. Even their principal constituencies like Amethi and Rae Bareli haven’t had much to show for their allegiance to the Congress. The party reeks of family-led politics. Plus, they’ve screwed the country over and over again. And if Rahul baba is the PM candidate, I will just bang my head against a wall.

The Communist Parties. Yuck. Even if I was to magically believe in Communist philosophy, I still wouldn’t be able to vote for them. Mostly because they practice convenient communism. And that is extremely dangerous. Even more dangerous than just communism.

The future of the country is probably in the hands of regional parties. And for regions that haven’t been able to cultivate strong local political action and parties, the choice is so narrow that it almost appears futile.

But what made me cringe, laugh and then react rather violently (thumping my floor) was that the anchors on NDTV had the audacity to say that the likes of Ram Gopal Verma were capitalizing on the tragedy by seeking creative stimulus out of it. Right. I know I’ve already done a post on Barkha Dutt‘s coverage of the attacks in Mumbai, but really there’s more to it. If you hop over to the wikipedia page on her this is what greets you –

Which I think sums up my opinion of her. And her attitude. I have to admit, I used to be a fan. Perhaps some of it was blind adoration because – here was a woman who seemed to be comfortable going into unchartered territories. Over years though, her attitude towards certain issues really bothered me. But people are entitled to different opinions, and journalists can’t be objective anyway. Better to declare your bias.

But it’s the attitude that bothers me. This need to hog airtime. This insensitivity. This constant need for the camera to look at her. The need to adopt a high pitch when describing something. This constant insult to my intelligence. Her arrogance. The other day, after the Taj operation was declared over, you could see her on television, pushing firemen about, preventing them from doing their work, dragging them by their arms and forcing them to answer questions. Sure, other journalists did it too. But I think when the Managing Editor of a popular news channel does it – it legitimizes a certain kind of behaviour.

Journalists cannot sit back and be mute spectators. Nor can they afford to be gentle. They need to be aggressive. The job demands it. More importantly, the need for high TRPs – which leads to being able to demand more money for advert slots, means that they are competing against each other. But if you are a professional, you are required to introspect on your own methods, rather than just serve the commercial interests of your employer.

When private news channels started in India, I really did celebrate. It was a far fry from Doordarshan’s drone about which foundation stone was being petted by which Minister. And I still am grateful for these channels. But my mistake was in assuming that competition forces people to be the best they can. Instead, it seems to force organisations to become more and more similar, and outdo each other within that ring of similarity.

To be fair not everyone is the same. Take someone like Miloni Bhatt for instance. I found her attitude far better than Barkha Dutt’s. She was calm, composed and didn’t obstruct anyone. Importantly, unlike Barkha Dutt, she didn’t randomly ask people to shut up on air.

Everytime during the coverage, somebody came on screen and said – “We are the first/ only channel to get access to this pool of blood/ this victim/ this view of a building burning/ this piece of blood soaked cloth” – A part of me just wanted to slap them.

Every time you make a cell phone call you make it with the help of coltan, an African metallic ore. It’s a rich continent: zinc, copper, oil, gas, silver, gold, diamonds… Just for its resources Africa will play a critical role in how the 21st century is shaped. If we want to breathe we’re going to need African cooperation on climate change (Congo is the second biggest rainforest on earth.) Anyway, I tell you all this to point out that while there is a meltdown happening on the markets and in our banking systems, you FT readers should keep one eye on the opportunity of Africa.

Sometimes I wish he’d just go back to making good music.

A few weeks back, a recent acquaintance remarked that she felt absolutely no sympathy for those who lost their high paying jobs on the Street or in the City because well they already had some money and she’d rather feel sorry for the small guys who are losing their jobs. Well, one can’t help but empathize with one group more, but I got the feeling that she was smug about the well paid people losing their jobs. Like it was some sort of redemption. She’d rather that a banker lose his job than a construction worker.

Though, what shocks me is that she is a student of economics. How can she not see that one banker losing his or her job means an entire stack of cards going down. The hairdresser, the person who works the tills at the supermarket, the cleaning staff, the real estate agent, everyone. Sure, no one’s asking for compassion – but why the glee? Why the joy in seeing someone out of a job?

What is that fantastic term – Schadenfreude. That’s what this is.