But in a world of glamour where media visibility is almost a prerequisite and most of 'what's hot' and 'what's not' is measured by the number of shutterbugs and roving video cameras present, does having a movie star or two sashay in front of a celebrity-hungry media really make bad business sense?

While a few other designers publicly seconded Khanna's lines, many others at the fashion week were happily posing for the cameras, hand in hand with their celebrity showstoppers.

And the media is often just a means to a (business) end.

"Yes, he (buyer) does get helped by the publicity surrounding the designers. If there is a star wearing the clothes, it helps him sell the product (to customers). So in that term, yes, indirectly, they do help," says Rina Dhaka, one of India's most popular designers, at home and abroad.

And publicity is one thing that always tags along with celebrities, who are as talked about, if not more, than the actual designs on the runway.

Off the stage, if you happen to see a crowd in the corner, you can be sure that a Bollywood star or a beauty queen is at the centre of the melee, posing away in front of the flashbulbs.

The Indian fashion design industry's overall production was just around 2.7 billion rupees in 2007,  with the majority of customers being Indian.

And even though international buyers have increasingly been drawn to the industry by the handicraft and detailed embroidery, most of the foreign buyers I've spoken to say Indian designers need to be more market-savvy about promoting their products.

And the use of celebrities seems to be one such tried-and-tested method.

"If celebrities are walking, people identify the success of the designer with that," says Sunil Sethi, president of the Fashion Design Council of India.

So is it any surprise that the ongoing Lakme Fashion Week in Mumbai, which is usually chock-a-block with celebrities, receives more media coverage than the India Fashion Week and the Delhi Fashion Week in the Indian capital?

As Rina Dhaka points out: "They (celebrities) do make a difference, unfortunately!"

What do you think -- are you interested in buying an outfit only if a Shilpa Shetty or John Abraham look good in it?

Okay, they’re probably not on the menu of your average restaurant but to my pleasant surprise all the above and much more were on offer in New Delhi at a cultural event dedicated to northeast India.

The main attraction seemed to be the food -- cuisines from all eight states that occupy India’s hilly northeast region. Maybe it was because of their novelty factor (not many restaurants in Delhi offer such dishes) but many people lined up at the food stalls (although admittedly, many were probably just gawking at the unusual dishes on display).

Consider this. Manipur state offered a peculiar salad known as the “Singzu” made from lotus stem, cabbage, powdered sesame seeds, mountain herbs, peas and gram touched up with pungent fermented fish.

The main attraction at the Mizoram stall were the fermented bamboo shoots, fried mountain onion roots and even fermented crab mixed with sesame seeds. While the ‘thali’ at the Nagaland stall comprised rice, pork, fried eel flavoured with a highly pungent chilli known as Raja mirchi and fermented soya beans.

The Northeastern states are connected to the rest of India by a tiny strip of land sandwiched between Nepal and Bangladesh and are traditionally more isolated.

Initiatives like the festival aim to promote and expose the culture of the region to the mainland audience.

As eminent anthropologist Prof A.C Bhagbati put it: "Events like this would pave the way for integration of the Northeast with the rest of the country."

But I wasn’t sure how people would assimilate the whole experience of the event which showcased the history, art and lifestyle of the region.

Take for instance the cuisine. Coming from the Northeast myself, I am accustomed to the local delicacies but was not sure if other visitors, who were having their first taste of the usually forest-based dishes, would find it to their liking.

My fears were unfounded.

"I tried it, and I liked it. Very nice," said visitor Anjali Joshipuri of the "Singzu" salad. She and her husband said they planned to try out other dishes as well, as they sat on a table laid out in the winter sun, waiting for a plate of porridge made from rice and chicken.

For the less adventurous, there were also the familiar momos (dumplings) and noodles at the Sikkim stall. Also on the menu -- sticky rice puri (a kind of fried bread) and cookies made from “kurtai” (derived from sugar can juice) and peanuts.

Judging by the crowd at the food counter, the Nagaland stall seemed to be the hotspot. Exhibitor Temsiichuba Jamir said visitors loved the Nagaland “thali”, an opinion seconded by visitor Latika Varadarajan, a chirpy lady who seemed to be in her seventies.

"Superb," she said, chewing on fermented bamboo shoots for the first time. "If you need a food taster, I’ll be happy to volunteer".

We both had a hearty laugh. It’s indeed the food that binds us all.

The spacious terminal building, high glass walls, and the view, as you step outside, of palm trees and people leisurely posing for photographs in front of water fountains made me recall chaotic scenes back at Delhi's airport, as I allowed myself a wry grin.

My admiration for what the aviation minister has described as India's first truly "world-class" airport vaporized when on my return trip, a smiling attendant approached me at the terminal and directed me to a counter that collected 375 rupees from every passenger flying out of the city -- courtesy a recently introduced toll called UDF or User Development Fee (International travellers were asked to shell out a thousand rupees).

A UDF is a toll collected by private airport developers to finance in part their project costs, provisions for which were introduced by the government recently with the advent of private players' participation in development of the country's airports, although there is no clear policy on how much a developer can charge passengers.

The argumentative Indian that I was, I protested that it seemed absurd to charge passengers so much every time they fly out of the airport, where the most they do is stand in queue to get their boarding passes, maybe use the toilet once and perhaps have a bite at a food joint, which by the way pays money to the airport authorities for operating on the premises.

Besides, I argued, we already paid for our air tickets, which are supposed to include all taxes and service charges. In any case, fees in other areas like road toll or parking charges on vehicles usually amount to double digit numbers, not in the hundreds.

Imagine my dismay when on my return to Delhi, I found out that DIAL, which is developing the capital's airport, was asking the government's permission to introduce a similar fee. On further research, I discovered that Bangalore airport already charges UDF and Mumbai airport authorities have also proposed charging the same.

And with plans to develop 35 more airports in the country through the public-private partnership model, all major airports in the country could soon be putting up requests for charging UDF on passengers to let them have a "world-class" experience at their terminals.

Not to argue about the larger economics of the costs and strains of building airports, but is directly charging a few hundred rupees from passengers every time they come to the airport fair or even commercially sound in the long term?

For thousands of citizens like me who can claim to see the inside of an airplane only due to the entry of budget airliners, paying so much just to catch our plane doesn't make much sense (trains are starting to look inviting again).

Yes, we want big and beautiful airports like everyone else, but not by being forced into directly contributing not once but every time we visit the place.

Also, in these times of economic turmoil when consumers are increasingly getting thrifty, levying such a fee could lead to decreasing air passenger traffic with the lower middle class preferring to go, especially for short distances, by road or rail route.

This would directly affect airliners who would be forced to reduce flights, in turn decreasing the income of the airport operator because of decreased landing and parking fees of planes and service charges.

But as I said before, forget about the larger economics or the high-class jet-setters who would keep on flying anyway, is levying a UDF fair on budget travellers like you and I?

While it is praiseworthy that the police acted comparatively quickly this time in tracing the culprits, it later turned out that some of those arrested, whose names the media had readily released, had no involvement in the dastardly acts.

But the damage had already been done, as a 'suspect' told a newspaper after his release: "I will have to live with a 'terrorist' tag for the rest of my life." Anwar Hussein, a doctor, said his family now faces abuses from neighbours and customers are avoiding his family's business of iron work in his native village.

Rashid Hussain, an IT professional, said he was sacked by his employers following his arrest, even though he was released after eight days in detention.

Muslim organizations and rights groups have cried foul over the arrests, complaining that the detentions were 'illegal' and a violation of human rights. Indian law requires detainees to be provided a legal counsel and brought before a magistrate within 24 hours, which did not happen in this case, like many others before.

While special laws like the Unlawful Activities Prevention Act (UAPA) allows authorities to detain suspects for longer periods, the detainees in this case were not charged with anything. But while many say the authorities acted 'illegally', experts say it is a grey area, as there is a provision in the law book which allows the police to arrest someone on suspicion alone.

"Article 41 in the CrPC empowers the police to arrest anyone on the basis of suspicion even if there is no proof. If the investigating officer later comes to the conclusion that there is no evidence, under article 157, he can say that he has stopped the probe and release the person," Supreme Court criminal lawyer D B Goswami says.

With India losing the maximum number of lives in terrorist attacks in the world after Iraq (according to a Times of India report), many would argue that the unfortunate incidents are unavoidable in the fight against terror - collateral damage, if you may.

But what about the old adage, "Better 100 guilty men at liberty than one innocent man in prison."

Law enforcement agencies should by all means investigate and question anyone they think is involved, or know anything about the perpetrators of such mindless violence, but there ought to be a more discreet way of carrying out the investigations, like not releasing the identity of the person until the police are sure of his/her involvement in a crime.

And the role of the media can never be overstated, with the enormous influence it has over public perception. A reputation, not least a life, can be destroyed by one incorrect report by an overzealous media.

And what can be said of the charge by Muslims and civil rights groups that Muslims are targeted by authorities every time an explosion takes place? And the trend of officials naming Islamic groups as suspects immediately after any terror strike when it is obvious that facts have not been ascertained yet.

Has "M" become the new scarlet letter, a metaphorical 'guilty' tag on persons by association to a particular religion?

Friends, families and human rights groups observed the last rites of 24-year-old Thangjam Manorama Devi, four years after she was allegedly raped and killed by personnel of the Assam Rifles paramilitary force. By performing the rites, they broke a pledge not to conduct the ceremony until their demands for punishment of the guilty and the repeal of the controversial Armed Forces (Special Powers) Act from the state were fulfilled.

Like the Manorama Devi episode, excesses by security forces (I won't add the word "alleged" because I have personally experienced it, being kicked, punched and shoved in the face with the nozzle of an SLR rifle while walking back home one night after attending church service), coupled with a sense of government neglect continues to alienate citizens of less-developed areas like the northeast and Naxal-dominated regions of Chhattisgarh, Jharkhand and Orissa.

Lack of economic opportunities is also a key factor in the proliferation of militant groups - in Manipur alone, there are reportedly 30-odd militant groups operating - perhaps joining an underground group is just another form of employment?

In other parts of the country, there are many who feel alienated because of their ethnicity, or religion. Muslims face profiling even in cosmopolitan cities (I know of a good friend, a senior journalist at that, who was unable to find accommodation in posh south Delhi. Landlords he approached told him they don't rent to Muslims). Allegations of innocent people being framed and tortured by police following terror attacks have also been reported by newspapers.

The diabolical bombings in Bangalore and Ahmedabad also appear to have been carried out by home-grown extremists with a grouse against the state, trying to justify their actions with atrocities committed against a particular community.

Some time ago during a media event, I was trying to explain the security situation in the northeast to a senior journalist over dinner, when he suddenly stopped me in mid-sentence. "That's the difference between people who come from your region and the rest of us," he said, continuing "When we talk about the army, we just say 'the army' or 'our army', whereas you, wittingly or unwittingly, call them 'the Indian army', as if they were some foreign occupying force."

I never realized it before, but he was right. And as a journalist trying to maintain an objective perspective, I have since taken care every time I have a discussion on the subject, But there are many others who, wittingly or unwittingly, still use that phrase - perhaps a manifestation of an underlying sentiment.

Sixty years after the country gained independence, many things have changed for the better, and we can afford to be proud of the nation's achievements, our democracy (chaotic as it may be), and the many great men and women who have brought us to where we are.

But there is always the other side of the coin, and the truth is that there are many who feel they have been deprived, who still don't feel like celebrating their independence.

When the tri-colour flutters and the nation erupts in celebration on August 15, some places in the northeast and Jammu and Kashmir will probably observe bandhs, with the possibility of bombs exploding, as it has been the case in previous years.

In his address to the nation last year on Independence Day, Prime Minister Manmohan Singh said he had a "vision of an India that is undivided despite diversity.... where every citizen feels proud to be an Indian." Are we there yet?

With more than half of the billion-plus population aged 25 or below and foreign players eager to have a share of the lucrative industry by setting up branches in India, the education sector can potentially bring in a huge amount of foreign investment.

And for many students who would otherwise be squeezed out of the few elite colleges or would have to study abroad, opening up the system could make world-class education available to them without having to leave the country.

So the education minister's recent remarks that the government may introduce in the August session of parliament a long-delayed bill to allow foreign universities to set up campuses in India will be intently followed by institutions from countries such as the UK, Canada and the US.

High-profile institutions like Oxford, Harvard and Stanford have evinced interest in setting up shop here, apart from hundreds of others.

The Foreign Education Providers (Regulation for Entry and Operation) Bill was cleared by the Cabinet in 2007 but was never introduced in parliament.

The communists, who propped up the government for almost four years, were opposed to opening up the education sector, arguing that the entry of foreign players would benefit only a few who could afford the high fees.

But with an estimated 160,000 students spending $4 billion annually for higher studies abroad, bringing foreign institutes into the country could bring down education costs drastically and make quality degrees available to more. Imagine someone studying in Delhi obtaining an Oxford degree.

Another area of concern is the threat of a deluge of fly-by-night operators who would only eye profits without giving value to education if there is no proper regulation.

On the other hand, too much government control would deter quality institutions who would like to maintain a certain amount of autonomy to be able to function properly.

The answer could lie in the National Knowledge Commission's recommendation to set up a regulatory body on the lines of the RBI for banks or TRAI for telecom.

With the Bill having a good chance of being taken out of cold storage this year, arguments in favour of and in opposition could be loud. The question remains - will it benefit the intended beneficiaries?

Another moot point - will HRD minister Arjun Singh and Co seek to stuff their quota doctrine down the throat of Harvard once it is in desi territory?