Eventually, the 30-year-old teacher from Karachi saw the
funny side of arranged marriages and cultural backgrounds in
Pakistan and decided it was the perfect subject for her debut
novel, “How It Happened.”

The book, recently launched in India and Pakistan, is the
story of Dadi, the matriarch of the Bandian family in Karachi,
and her quest to find the perfect Shia Muslim groom for her
granddaughter Zeba. Told from the point of view of Zeba’s
younger sibling Saleha, the novel explores how negotiating
ancient marriage traditions in the 21st century could stretch a
family to the end of its tether.

Haider spoke with Reuters about her book, Pakistani culture
and writing.

Q: How much of “How It Happened” is inspired by real life?

A: Well, some of it was inspired by what I saw around me. I
grew up listening to stories of my mother’s home town in India
and so the fictional town of “Bhakuraj” was born as this vital,
bizarre place full of eccentric people. My grandparents died
before I was born and I yearned to have a grandmother to be the
kind of force that Dadi in “How It Happened” was to Saleha, so I
think the yearning gave birth to the narrator and the
grandmother, who are my two favourite characters in the novel.
Soon after, the Bandians were born and they are quite unlike my
actual family. After that, the story took shape and the rest is
what is in the pages before you.

Q: Tell us a bit about your research for the novel.

A: No research, what you read is what popped up in my head.
I was always very interested in what men and women went through
in the process of arranged marriages and had been at the
listening end of many a rant by an irate person of eligible age
and status. I also had a few suitors grace my drawing room with
their presence and I witnessed their discomfort with
considerable amusement. And then, one day my friend called me
and told me that a prospective mum-in-law had told her that she
was interested in my friend because she was an American citizen
(her son wanted a passport-holder) I thought, what a perfect
subject-matter for satire. So off I went to write and out came
“How It Happened”.

Q: Did your family know that you were writing the novel?

A: It was a secret. I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to
finish it, or that it wouldn’t be good enough. One of my closest
friends, Sameer Khan, was my only reader and critic – he was a
med student but he still read each chapter I wrote and gave
detailed feedback. The book wouldn’t have been written without
his constant encouragement.

Q: Sectarian violence is threatening Pakistan’s stability at
the moment. The Shia-Sunni rivalry is also a dominant thread in
the novel. Do you see things changing any time soon?

A: Oh things are changing, of course, but it’s different for
different families. Never make the mistake that what is
happening on the political scene is a representative of what the
ordinary citizen thinks or wants — people desire unity, peace
and stability, not violence and bloodshed. In my family
specifically, the Shia-Sunni thing isn’t such a big deal any
more — many Zebas have come before us. But I know that some
other families would like to stick together with the same
religious flock.

Q: Through this novel, what is it that you wanted to say
about marriages and cultural backgrounds in Pakistan? Was a
humorous novel your first choice?

A: I didn’t want to write a didactic novel and I hope I
haven’t. Humour was the natural choice because it’s such a
bizarre arrangement, getting strangers to meet in contrived
settings and expecting them to like each other. Even animals
have difficulty with breeding in captivity! I hope people will
read the book and have a good laugh. Because to survive this
system with grace, a good sense of humour is vital.

Q: Which is your favourite compliment yet for “How It
Happened”?

A: I was very happy to learn that my male readers were
enjoying it as much as my female readers. The cover seems to
imply that women are the primary audience for this novel, but
don’t men suffer the rigours of the arranged marriage? One of
them tweeted to me and said that he had loved it and that I
rocked. And I think he rocked for saying that.”

Q: What next after “How It Happened”? Is there scope for a
sequel or a novel about education in Pakistan?

A: I am half-way through my second novel but I realize that
I’m going to have to change the tone of the story completely
which involves a complete re-write. It has nothing to do with
“How It Happened”. There is certainly scope for a sequel, though
I’m not sure I want to visit the world of the Bandians any
further. I’ve lived with them intimately and enjoyed my time
with them. It’s time for them to go their way and for me to go
mine.

Q: Any advice for aspiring writers?

A: Submit as much as you write. Don’t reject your own work
when there are a thousand other people, agents and publishing
houses to do that for you. And don’t think your words are sacred
- they are not – be open to changing tone or voice or anything
such to serve the cause of your story telling. Don’t show your
work to everyone because everyone will have a different idea of
what constitutes good writing. Find that one person whose
opinion you trust and show your work to them.

(Reporting by Tony Tharakan; Editing by)

AirAsia CEO Tony Fernandes has big plans for his budget airline. This week, the government approved the Malaysian carrier’s proposal to set up a new airline in India with the Tata group – and it happened thanks to a comma.

The Economic Times reported on Thursday, that the punctuation mark saved the joint venture, with India’s foreign investment regulator interpreting a 2012 ministry press note to mean foreign investments were also allowed for newly created airlines.

“The government of India has reviewed the position in this regard and decided to permit foreign airlines also to invest, in the capital of Indian companies, operating scheduled and non-scheduled air transport services, up to the limit of 49% of their paid-up capital,” the Department of Industrial Policy and Promotion said in its press note on Sept. 20 last year.

Had there been no comma after “companies”, things would have been clear. It would have meant foreign airlines could only invest in existing carriers. The newspaper reports that the ambiguous comma allowed finance ministry officials to argue in favour of the 800 million rupee ($15 million) joint venture, even though officials in the aviation ministry questioned it.

It’s not the first time that a misplaced (or perhaps a strategically placed) comma has had an impact on business.

In 2006, a Canadian commission ruled against cable giant Rogers Communications based on its interpretation of a superfluous comma in their contract with Bell Aliant. That comma was worth a million Canadian dollars.

But things did end well for Rogers. A year later, the regulator overturned the decision and decided to go by the French-language version of the contract – which had no errant commas.

The humble punctuation mark, first developed by Aldus Manutius in the 16th century, was also at the centre of a courtroom drama between U.S. automaker Chrysler and a California resident.

Unfortunately, government and legal documents in India (and around the world) are peppered with commas. Bureaucrats would be well advised to improve their grammar and punctuation skills, or risk getting “hanged on a comma“.

(I inserted an unnecessary comma in this post. Where is it? Comment below if you find it)
(Follow Tony on Twitter @tonytharakan)

The countdown to Budget 2013 has begun, and Finance Minister P. Chidambaram must try to keep India’s fiscal deficit from gaining weight.

One idea we’re hearing a lot lately is turning to India’s super-rich citizens to boost tax revenue and improve the tax-to-GDP ratio. In a television interview aired in January, Chidambaram’s comments on the subject didn’t reveal much, but led to media speculation over higher taxes for the well heeled.

It’s a step that may lead the Harvard-educated lawyer down a path that John Morton took more than 500 years ago. The 15th-century lord chancellor in the court of the English King Henry VII, not to mention former archbishop of Canterbury, is traditionally credited with “Morton’s fork”, a taxation principle that ensnares the rich and poor alike.

It goes like this: frugal people must have enough money left over to give generously; people who live extravagantly must be prosperous enough to give generously too.

It’s too bad for Chidambaram that his name isn’t Morton. He will find it harder to get India’s millionaires to put their money to work for the good of the state.

How many rich people are we talking about? India has just 35 million taxpayers — about 3 percent of the population. Only 1.5 million of them declare annual earnings of more than a million rupees ($18,500). Fewer still (400,000) pay tax on earnings of over 2 million rupees ($37,000). With all that talk of India’s growth spurt in recent years, that number does seem low — as this blogger points out.

In a survey by the Reuters India website this month, 47 percent of the respondents said those earning more than 10 million rupees a year (the magic “1 crore” mark, or about $184,000) should be taxed at a higher rate.

At present, the top income tax rate is 30 percent, which applies to earnings above 1 million rupees a year.

But a Standard Chartered report on economictimes.com this week said taxing the rich has “uncertain economic benefits”.

“Such a measure would run the risk of higher tax evasion and create a disincentive to work and invest in an economy where growth rates have come down substantially,” the report said.

That’s what HDFC Bank Managing Director Aditya Puri says too: it could prove counter-productive and lead to evasion.

And what if India’s rich people move to tax havens? There’s plenty of precedent, from French film star Gerard Depardieu to the Rolling Stones.

There are no easy answers, but luckily for us, Chidambaram only has until Feb. 28 to think about it. We’ll be looking forward to his decision.

In fact, it took nearly half a century after he had his idea before he sat down to write. But when he did, the first draft just poured out.

Sen, now 81, made his debut last month with “The Skinning Tree”, a novel about a boy struggling with the harsh realities of boarding school in pre-independence India. Like his protagonist Sabby, the author was also born in Calcutta (now Kolkata) before moving to England with his parents.

“What got the story going was a visit to my grandmother’s house … In 1964, I went to the house and saw that it was more or less the same as I had known it,” Sen told Reuters in an email interview from London, where he has lived for decades.

“I saw that there was a tremendous contrast in the two existences of the child – at home and in school more than a thousand miles away – and writing about that was an exciting prospect with all sorts of exciting possibilities.”

The problem was that Sen never got the time. As a sports journalist for The Times, he was busy writing to deadlines and had to wait until he had retired.

“The story kept growing in my mind, not in any particular order as such, but whenever I was looking out of a window in a train or a plane, bits of the story came into my mind,” he said.

When the Japanese advance on India during the Second World War, 9-year-old Sabby is plucked from his sheltered life in Calcutta and sent to boarding school in northern India. It’s Sabby’s introduction to corporal punishment, a world where teachers are armed with leather belts to beat the children – and the students’ thoughts turn to murder.

Based on Sen’s boyhood memories with characters, family history and imagination moulded to fit the story, the unpublished manuscript won a award for debut South Asian authors in January 2012 and Sen flew to New Delhi for the ceremony. It was his first trip to India in 47 years.

“Everything was more Westernized, more consumer items and cars available and the young seemed much freer than we used to be,” he said. “It is place which instills in the Westerner a sense of tremendous energy.”

Now that his debut novel is out, Sen is hard at work on his second. It will continue Sabby’s story as an Indian living in the UK.

(Reporting by Tony Tharakan; Editing by Sanjeev Miglani and Elaine Lies)

Finding someone to take the job must have been hard, but was it so hard that they finally had to settle for a stenographer? India’s ministry of external affairs might be wondering the same thing. It is reviewing the appointment of Ajay K. Sharma after some officials raised questions about his qualifications to represent India in the isolated country.

Media reports say Sharma, a principal staff officer in the stenographer cadre, joined the ministry 31 years ago as a personal assistant, and had some limited experience in Suva as a counsellor handling pay and allowances.

Officers of the Indian Foreign Service (IFS), selected through rigorous civil services examinations, usually represent India in consulates and embassies worldwide. India and North Korea established diplomatic relations in 1973 and maintain embassies in each other’s capital cities.

But Pyongyang is not viewed as a plum posting and officers have no illusions about the joys of diplomatic life there. According to most reports, it’s somewhat of a spartan existence. In fact, Sharma’s appointment has been questioned not by IFS officers, but by the secretarial cadre that ranks below IFS officers.

They say if “a judge’s steno cannot become a judge, nor a doctor’s compounder become a doctor,” then an ambassador’s steno cannot be designated as an ambassador.

The problem is North Korea is not a nation that India can afford to ignore, given its history as a nuclear renegade and as a key geopolitical location. If Pyongyang’s failed launch of a long-range rocket in April is any indication, North Korea hasn’t given up on its nuclear ambitions.

So … if not a stenographer, then who?

As a government-appointed commission works on defining a new poverty line, it might want to consult India’s Parsis, descendants of Zoroastrians who migrated to India from Persia (present-day Iran) several centuries ago.

On Monday, the Bombay Parsi Punchayet (BPP), an administrative body for the Parsi community in India, said it will define Parsis as poor if their monthly income is less than 90,000 rupees ($1,613). This translates to an annual income of 1.08 million rupees, way above India’s 2011 annual per capita income of about 85,000 rupees. You’re a poor Parsi if you’re ‘slightly’ richer than the average Indian, in other words.

The punchayet‘s reason for the “poor” label, revealed during a court case in Mumbai, is to ensure that Parsis are eligible for apartments in subsidised city housing.

The Parsis, a close-knit and wealthy community struggling with a dwindling population, have always been known for their enterprising spirit. Some of India’s most successful businesses, including the omnipresent Tata Group, are part of the Parsi tradition.

Perhaps it’s time for the Indian government, reeling as it is under an economic growth slump and an inability to set healthy growth policies, to turn to the Parsis for inspiration.

Maybe the punchayet has a few more flats lying vacant that they could fill up with some deserving cases. There’s nothing like a bit of subsidised housing to help people get to the point where they’re raising the nation’s per capita income.

($1 = 55.8 rupees)

Set partly in Amritsar and partly in New Delhi, Bajwa’s ‘Tell Me a Story’ focuses on Rani, a young woman who works in the local beauty parlour and is in love with Bollywood star Shah Rukh Khan. Rani’s dreams are shattered when her family is torn asunder in their struggle to make ends meet.

Bajwa, born in 1976, spoke to Reuters in an email interview about writing being manual labour and how Khan’s movies reflect a changing India.

Q: Are the characters and events in ‘Tell Me a Story’ based on real life?

A: “I write about what I know, about the world and people as I see them through my eyes. So, yes, it is very much real life but the characters or events are not based on actual ones.”

Q: Which character in ‘Tell Me a Story’ is closest to your own self?

A: “That is a difficult question to answer. There is a bit of me in all of them, yet they are all independent individuals who have nothing to do with me.”

Q: In ‘Tell Me a Story’, the protagonist is trapped in a world where the lack of money changes her life forever. In that sense, would you say your novel represents the invisible Indian underclass?

A: “Rani’s family is poor but they are lower middle class. You couldn’t call them poverty stricken. But yes, money remains a constant challenge for the Indian middle class.”

Q: The novel also touches upon issues such as female foeticide and domestic abuse. Do you think depicting them in fiction can at some level help eradicate these social ills? Is there no respite for people like Rani?

A: “If writing about things in fiction could eradicate ills, there would be no ills left in this world. But yes, it does bring these issues to the attention of readers. So it does serve some purpose.”

Q: What is your next book about? Is it also set in Amritsar?

A: “I have only planned the essence of the next novel, and a bit about the characters. I have some idea, but I haven’t finalised it yet. But no, this time it is not going to be set in Amritsar.”

Q: Like Rani, do you share a love for Shah Rukh Khan’s movies?

A: “In a way, yes, because I always get the feeling he knows how ridiculous he is being. But more importantly, his films and their changing profiles reflect a lot about India.”

Q: In an interview some years ago, you said playing FarmVille on Facebook was good for when you get writer’s block. Is that still the case?

A: “No, I got tired of it.”

Q: What is your typical writing work day like?

A: “I used to have a fairly regular working routine earlier, but after having a baby, I write whenever I can.”

Q: Any advice for aspiring writers?

A: “I am not a very old writer myself, so I am hardly in a position to give advice. All I can say is — just live, observe, read, write, write and write. Treat it like manual labour, like a craft to be learned.”

The ruling Congress party coalition looks like it will at best limp its way to general elections in 2014, stung by a rash of corruption scandals that have tarnished Prime Minister Manmohan Singh’s second term in office and led to a dismal performance in state assembly elections earlier this year.

Now the political establishment is abuzz about who will be the next president, a largely ceremonial post that comes open in July.

The incumbent by all accounts bears the hallmarks of the government she represents — ineffectual and damaged by accusations of corruption. Pratibha Devisingh Patil, whose tenure ends in July, was controversially allotted defence land to build a cosy retirement nest. With 12 trips overseas since taking over, she’s also racked up foreign travel bills that cost India more than 2 billion rupees ($39 million), the most by any Indian head of state.

Such lavishness has even led some to question the whole presidential institution within a parliamentary democracy. The president is the constitutional head but has limited powers, similar to that of the monarch in the United Kingdom, despite living in a 340-room palace that was once the British viceroy’s residence.

Weak as it is and with just a 30 pct share in the electoral college that selects the next president, the Congress party will struggle to impose its choice of candidate — such as current Finance Minister Pranab Mukherjee who is thought to covet the post — especially since most parties say the next president should not be a politician.

The name of A.P.J. Abdul Kalam, Patil’s more popular predecessor, is being bandied about for a second term. Scientist Kalam, often called the father of India’s missile programme, is admired for his unassuming personality. If successful, the man dubbed the “people’s president”, now 80, would be the first former president to be re-elected.

It won’t be easy. Kalam was somewhat of a killjoy for the Congress in the past — in 2006, he held up a bill preventing the disqualification of MPs holding “offices of profit” — and with the ruling coalition on a sticky wicket, it may not want him to have a say in the appointment of the government after the 2014 general elections.

Under the constitution, the president has discretionary powers in the appointment of the prime minister, especially when no party wins a majority in parliamentary elections, and can also return bills sent for assent before they become law.

But if not Kalam, then who? While India’s most famous actor may not really have the gravitas for the job, a name like Ratan Tata could be a good non-political option. The chairman of the Tata Group is retiring in December and may well be the best brand ambassador to project India’s growing business clout overseas.

India has never had a businessman president and with the economic miracle slowly losing its shine, Tata, 74, could be a good choice to promote the country’s businesses.

“Vicky Donor”, a romantic comedy about a sought-after sperm donor at a fertility clinic, is part of a wave of recent films tackling subjects rarely addressed in Indian cinema – gay relationships, biopics on sex symbols and now sperm donation.

Indian audiences, torn between rigid social mores and the challenges of a rapidly modernising nation, have gradually accepted Bollywood films with bolder themes. But sperm donation may be pushing the limits.

“Conservative families, how they will react, I don’t know,” said the film’s director, Shoojit Sircar. “Things may change. There are chances that youngsters may tell their parents to go and watch the film.”

In January, a couple’s advertisement offering 20,000 rupees for the sperm of an Indian Institute of Technology (IIT) alumnus sparked an online furore.

Sircar, whose 2005 film “Yahaan” was a love story set in Kashmir, said he steered clear of adult jokes for “Vicky Donor”. “Vicky” is the name of the main character.

“Sperm donation could become a little repulsive if not presented right because it is a taboo and sperm donation straight away relates to masturbation,” the 43-year-old film-maker told Reuters in a phone interview from Mumbai.

“The treatment is quite humorous, a very Woody Allen-ish style of humour.”

Much of the dialogue in “Vicky Donor” is sourced from real-life anecdotes, with the filmmakers taking inspiration from the doctors and patients they met while researching the movie.

The trailer depicts a childless couple seeking a cricketer’s sperm sample so that their offspring could play for the country and also make a lot of money.

“This is a subject that we talk only in our bedrooms but infertility is a huge problem in this modern society,” said Sircar.

Despite marketing gimmicks such as men dressed in sperm suits dancing at the film’s music launch earlier this month, the makers of “Vicky Donor” may find it difficult to counter the stigma attached to sperm donation.

No mainstream Bollywood star, with the exception of its producer, John Abraham, features in Sircar’s film. The director says he didn’t even bother asking the Indian film industry’s reigning heroes.

“Any star would have liked the script but they wouldn’t have agreed to be a part of the film, I knew that,” said Sircar.

Instead, newcomer Ayushmann Khurrana, a known face on Indian television who donated sperm as part of a reality TV show task, was cast in the lead role.

“Sperm donation is something not generally discussed openly, at least no one knows about the lives of professional sperm donors in India,” said film critic Utpal Borpujari.

“If this film is able to give a perspective to the whole thing — even if in a comic way — the director will deserve kudos for bringing an important issue out in the open.”

“Vicky Donor” opens in cinemas on April 20.

(Reporting By Tony Tharakan; Editing by Elaine Lies)

“Vicky Donor”, a romantic comedy about a sought-after sperm donor at a fertility clinic, is part of a wave of recent films tackling subjects rarely addressed in Indian cinema – gay relationships, biopics on sex symbols and now sperm donation.

Indian audiences, torn between rigid social mores and the challenges of a rapidly modernising nation, have gradually accepted Bollywood films with bolder themes. But sperm donation may be pushing the limits.

“Conservative families, how they will react, I don’t know,” said the film’s director, Shoojit Sircar. “Things may change. There are chances that youngsters may tell their parents to go and watch the film.”

In January, a couple’s advertisement offering 20,000 rupees for the sperm of an Indian Institute of Technology (IIT) alumnus sparked an online furore.

Sircar, whose 2005 film “Yahaan” was a love story set in Kashmir, said he steered clear of adult jokes for “Vicky Donor”. “Vicky” is the name of the main character.

“Sperm donation could become a little repulsive if not presented right because it is a taboo and sperm donation straight away relates to masturbation,” the 43-year-old film-maker told Reuters in a phone interview from Mumbai.

“The treatment is quite humorous, a very Woody Allen-ish style of humour.”

Much of the dialogue in “Vicky Donor” is sourced from real-life anecdotes, with the filmmakers taking inspiration from the doctors and patients they met while researching the movie.

The trailer depicts a childless couple seeking a cricketer’s sperm sample so that their offspring could play for the country and also make a lot of money.

“This is a subject that we talk only in our bedrooms but infertility is a huge problem in this modern society,” said Sircar.

Despite marketing gimmicks such as men dressed in sperm suits dancing at the film’s music launch earlier this month, the makers of “Vicky Donor” may find it difficult to counter the stigma attached to sperm donation.

No mainstream Bollywood star, with the exception of its producer, John Abraham, features in Sircar’s film. The director says he didn’t even bother asking the Indian film industry’s reigning heroes.

“Any star would have liked the script but they wouldn’t have agreed to be a part of the film, I knew that,” said Sircar.

Instead, newcomer Ayushmann Khurrana, a known face on Indian television who donated sperm as part of a reality TV show task, was cast in the lead role.

“Sperm donation is something not generally discussed openly, at least no one knows about the lives of professional sperm donors in India,” said film critic Utpal Borpujari.

“If this film is able to give a perspective to the whole thing — even if in a comic way — the director will deserve kudos for bringing an important issue out in the open.”

“Vicky Donor” opens in cinemas on April 20.

(Reporting By Tony Tharakan; Editing by Elaine Lies)