A few years ago, when Pluto, the stray I’d adopted was alive, I walked into his room: He lay on his back, all four legs in the air. I looked at his face, his eyes were shut and as I peered closely, I could have sworn there was a smile; that’s if dogs smile, which I’m sure they do.

I’d adopted him, when I’d seen him injured on the road. His injured leg hadn’t healed well and he walked with a limp, but that had never deterred him from pottering around proudly next to me, and telling the world he belonged to me; lifting his head in a half bark, half howl quite often when I returned from my morning walk.

Yesterday I opened the paper to find right there on the front page, another rape in the outskirts of Mumbai. Sadly, the papers also reported that the girl was out with her boyfriend, insinuating that the girl should have been safely at home, in the kitchen or behind a locked door, and that this would have prevented the deed from being committed.

Instead of condemning the barbaric act, instead of damming the police force for not making the place safe we blame the girl.

At a talk I gave last night in South Mumbai, someone asked me at dinner what I thought of the disqualification of Rahul. I replied that I looked at democracy as a competitive race, in which the best man or woman won. “And to keep the race or democracy afloat,” I said, “the competition has to be fair!”

 “You remember the movie Benhur and the spectacular chariot race between the hero and his competitor. What did the competitor do? Instead of trying to prove he was a better horseman, a better racer than Benhur, he started breaking the wheels of Benhur’s chariot, whipping Benhur so he would be unable to ride, and using other destructive ways to see Benhur lose.

The other day a friend of mine made a strange statement, "Bob," he said, "I'm everybody's friend! I agree with everybody!"

"What if you have to make a choice in an argument?"

"I won't," he said, "I'll be neutral!"

 “Which,” I said, “Is letting down the friend who is right!”

T’was this morning I opened the newspaper and found a pretty model showing her dainty self on a dozen different beds. Alluring she looked and inviting a supple body beckoned me to glance at different rooms of the hotel she was advertising for: The Arabian room, Chinese and Polynesian, French and English, Mexican and Malaysian, the Swiss chalet with scenic mountains outside, all with the sweet looking girl for company!