Vibsville

Looking for a walk down regal Rajasthan? Or are you a history buff looking to step back in time? Headed to Jaipur for a wedding/event and not sure what to do? If you checked off any one of these 3 options, the sights and locales of Jaipur are tugging for your attention.   I had just one day to soak in Jaipur, before leaving for Alwar the next morning, so I meticulously planned my day to absorb whatever I could. Upon arrival, went directly from the airport to the famed (over-hyped!) Taprri. There are many branches, but I was advised to head directly to Tapri Central (which has outdoor seating and a view of the garden greens). I reached around 9:30 am and was given a token and asked to wait in the queue! While the tea and service were good, I really didn’t see what all the hype is about! Having had tea/breakfast, I would advise you to finish all your city shopping since Tapri is located in the city centre. The shops begin to open their shutters by 10am, so spend 1-2 hours buying your cot

This trip came about since my close childhood friend, also a history buff, wanted to get a taste of ancient India on her express trip from America. We knew little to nothing about Hampi; the prospect of discovery excited us. I began my research through the usual websurfing and found http://hampi.in/ , a pretty useful resource to get aquainted with the basics. Special shout out to Ambika Vishwanathan and Karen Rodriguez for their insights as well! I will keep the length of this post short. The more obvious things about Hampi can be found online quite easily. I will focus my piece on the ‘not so obvious’ things to do/see and general tips for someone traveling from Bombay to Hampi. How should one get to Hampi? Three prime options in order of preference: 1)    Fly to Bangalore and take the Hampi Express to Hospet. Bangalore is a large hub airport and has several flights connecting easily to the city. More importantly, the train leaves Bangalore daily at 10 pm and arrives

“Masla toh ji Sarkar ka hain, logon mein to sirf pyaar hain”, summarized our Immigration officer at the Pakistani border as we inhaled our last few breaths of Pakistani air before taking the dozen odd steps to cross over back to Amritsar. We had the privilege of spending five days in Pakistan thanks to Nutshell Conferences and its CEO, Azfar Bhai who invited a delegation from the Harvard Business School Club of India to visit Pakistan – when I received the initial invite, I RSVPd instantly and instinctively – without bothering to check my calendar – both professional and personal commitments seemed to fade into insignificance when compared to the opportunity to visit this enigmatic nation (Big thank you to the HBS Clubs of India and Pakistan!). We took the Spice Jet flight to Amritsar from Bombay (the only direct flight) and spent the day there visiting family and family friends, attending the border ceremony (a 2 hour evening drama with soldiers, Bollywood music and lots of f

     ‘We live in a man’s world’ goes the common refrain. Each time I end a late night phone conversation with my best friend when discussing marriage, family or work we conclude that there still exists an implicit gender bias in today’s ‘emerging’ India. Not confined to the rural areas or the impoverished population, the bias is visible across India. From the villages where a son is treasured as an asset, an incremental working hand on the fields, to the glitzy offices in urban India, where women candidates are looked at with skepticism since career is perceived as secondary to family, the prejudice is ubiquitous. Five million girls were subjected to female infanticide between 1986 and 2001 in India. To prevent this, sex determination for pregnant women is illegal across the country. Even in seemingly modern families, women are pressured to produce a son to continue the family legacy. The bias is universal; its manifestations vary significantly.    I hail from a Marwari family and was

   Bombay is cringing. Its wounds from the blasts in 2008 had barely begun to heal when it was attacked, yet again. At 7:20 pm on July 13 th , 2011, I got 3 missed calls from my father. I was just leaving home and was delaying answering till I began my commute. The fourth time, I answered.   “What is it, Dad?” “Don’t leave home. There has been a blast close to our office in Opera House.”   “Are you guys ok? Where is Mom?”    My father confirmed that they were safe but said they weren’t going to leave the office now from fear of more blasts. I spent the next few hours calling them frequently and checking the news for any additional blasts. They returned three hours later, but 133 people did not reach their homes that evening, 20 of whom have now been declared dead.    This time the bombs targeted the densely populated middle income areas of Opera House, Zaveri Bazaar and Daadar, during rush hour. Indeed, surveillance of crowded areas is challenging and perhaps the glitch in security mea