Terrorised Bangalore It's over a month since the Bangalore blasts, but there's no denying that it's left people jittery all over. Picture this - we were coming back from a shoot and there was this loud explosive sound just in front of our building (ours being an MNC-type building, we're likely targets for everything from Kannada Vedike protests to terrorists). Vehicles suddenly screeched with brakes, the few techies waiting for autos ran in the direction opposite to the sound, about 27 security personnel posted from ground to sixth floor of our building ran out on to the roads to see if they could save the lives of all the techies working in our building so that they (the techies) could continue to boost America's economy (which sure needs some help now). We wondered if we were up against another of those looong 'terror-strikes-Bangalore' days,' when out comes a cabbie - it was a call center cab that unfortunately suffered a punctured...

Hours to go for these BJP guys to take oath. The city is getting painted saffron. Saffron flags, posters, banners, buntings, sycophancy. Everyone wants a ministerial berth. But one smart BJP 'worker' decided to pass on the message of his loyalties quite strongly to his bosses. He's put up BJP flags all around the Janata Dal (Secular)'s office. And I mean, all around. That strong message to the Gowdas should win this smart alec - whoever he is - a ministerial berth, methinks! ******** BS Yeddyurappa wants a 'stable government.' And he's getting that by getting six unsuspecting independents over to his side. These six people never went to an astrologer but seem to have managed an unprecedented jackpot. They became elected as independents just at a time when the BJP was just short of a majority. Soon after convincing them, the BJP took them away to an 'undisclosed location.' They say they don't want any 'horse-trading,' so...

"Have you seen my son? Are you here to search for my son?" she asked me. I had never met her before. She looked helpless, worried, poor, and then there was something else - something bleak. Like she didn't know what to expect, didn't know if she should have hope. She was 55 at least, and looked like she had been walking around vaguely, along every road that led to the beach, the government hospital, the school with temporary tents. 3 years ago (Dec 26th, to be specific), in a tsunami-hit Cuddalore, everyone who was wearing halfway neat clothes must have looked like an "official" to her - from the collector's office or the police. And since I was one of the few "official" looking women around, she stopped me to ask me that question "where's my son? He went out fishing yesterday... I haven't seen him since." When my editor had packed me off the previous day to 'cover the...