A daughter from the past - A Scandalous Secret

The title, A Scandalous Secret, is misleading as it has a whiff of sensationalism. The scandal and the secret might be the leitmotiv of the book but that's not all there is to Jaishree Misra's novel. Briefly, the story is about 18-year-old Sonya Shaw's quest to know why her biological mother, Neha Chaturvedi, had abandoned her when she was a baby. Sonya was adopted by the most loving parents a child could ask for, but there is a simmering anger within her against the woman who had donated her to a foster home. Born and brought up in Britain, Sonya decides to travel to India to accost Neha, now the gracious wife of one of Delhi's influential socialites.
Through the lives of Sonya, Neha and their respective families and friends, Misra creates two diverse worlds: provincial England and aspirational Delhi. Misra's depiction of the simple Shaw family, the glamorous Chaturvedi couple, the student fraternities of different generations, the gregarious, enterprising Mrs Mahajan who lets out a room to foreigners ('home-stay' is the new buzzword), and a host of peripheral characters, is warm, intimate and peppered with satire. Refreshingly, she describes a contemporary India minus the stereotypes. So, though the taxi drivers of Delhi might still be a manic lot, its international airport is the new, slick one. Agra might still be a tout-infested nightmare but Marari Beach, a few miles north of Cochin, is a tourists' paradise. Sonya and her friend Estella come to India, armed with a Lonely Planet guidebook, so they don't face any of the cliched problems.
Against these different worlds, complex relationships evolve. Sonya's search for the truth is initially spurred on by pure, unadulterated anger. How this antagonism towards Neha gives way to sympathy is a tour de force on the part of the writer. How Neha's husband comes to terms with her past is another track that is skillfully handled The insecurity that Sonya's foster parents feel when she traces her biological mother is heart-warmingly described. Friendship plays a significant role in this book, preventing it from becoming a maudlin, weepy story.
The story grows organically, dictated by the characters that people it. It's a page-turner because you want to know how the different characters will solve the dilemmas of their lives. Barring the few proof-reading errors, the odd factual one (the Taj Mahal is referred to as a palace), and the rather melodramatic strap-line on the cover ("The truth will tear them apart"), A Scandalous Secret is more than what the cover promises.

Finding the 'lost' leader Netaji Subhashhandra Bose

Finding the 'lost' leader

While historian Sugata Bose draws on previously unused family archives to produce a great piece of historical reconstruction, independent researcher Romain Hayes focuses on the dangerous and inexplicable alliance Bose tried to forge with Nazi Germany,


Here are two books on one of the most fascinating figures of the Indian national movement, with different emphases. Sugata Bose's is a meticulous biography of Subhas Chandra Bose, while Hayes focuses on the dangerous and inexplicable alliance Bose tried to forge with Nazi Germany, and therefore with Italy and Japan, the Axis powers, in the midst of the Second World War.
Sugata Bose, who teaches history at Harvard and is a grandnephew of Subhas Chandra Bose, offers rare and compelling insights into the stalwart leader's life. Starting with the (in)famous incident at Presidency College where an English professor was beaten up by students — Subhas might have been involved in the planning or even in the execution — and Subhas' subsequent rustication, Bose offers us a wealth of detail in mapping Subhas' politicisation.
Starting off as a protégé of Chittaranjan Das, Subhas was active in Calcutta politics and the freedom movement in the city. He tasted British prison air for the first time in 1921, and would go to prison a total of 11 times in his career. Moving on to the national stage, supported emotionally and financially by his elder brother, Sisir, Subhas made his presence felt in the Congress with his fierce patriotism and uncompromising stance on the modes of revolution. Bose's heroic escape from Calcutta, disguised as a Pathan, in 1941 and his travels in Europe and Germany make for fascinating reading.
Sugata Bose also gives us a peep into the personal life of this fiery nationalist — documenting his secret marriage to Emilie Schenkl, their travels through war-torn Europe in 1942, her pregnancy and delivery of a son without Subhas by her side, and Subhas' total commitment to the Indian freedom struggle despite his passion for his 'first love' for Emilie.
Sugata Bose makes visible Subhas' political allegiances: his preference for Nehru, whom he saw as a 'progressive', rather than Gandhi; his controversial friendship with Italian fascists, and the problematic alliance he sought with Nazi Germany despite his clear discomfort with its racist propaganda.
The final days, where Subhas' life was under serious threat in Singapore and later in Bangkok, saw him continually courageous and willing to put himself through enormous strain and risk, notes the biographer. Persuaded to leave, Subhas took the risky route out of Singapore, and the Japanese plane that took off from Saigon, carrying India's most charismatic leader after Gandhi, crashed near Taiwan, according to Sugata Bose's account. Habibur Rahman, who was on the plane with Netaji, survived (Rahman was one of the officers prosecuted at the historic trial in the Red Fort in 1945). The "flaming sword forever unsheathed in defense of the land he worshipped," as Sarojini Naidu put it, stayed inspirational, though the life was spent. Burnt and badly injured, battling for life in the hands of Japanese doctors, he asked Rahman to take his word to Indians: that they should continue to fight for freedom. (It must be noted here that the Mukherjee Commission appointed to probe the death concluded in 2006 that Netaji didn't die in the plane crash and may have escaped to the USSR: a report Sugata Bose and family have rejected, and the controversy still isn't over, as evidenced by Mission Netaji, an organisation researching the death of Subhas.)
Hayes' work, less a biography than the elaboration of a political moment in Subhas' career, seeks an explanation for Subhas' strange attempts to ally with the Axis powers and Hitler. Though Hitler offered Subhas only one meeting, in 1942, the two were more than aware of each other, with Hitler okaying a draft declaration, written by Subhas for Germany's Foreign Office, in which Germany promised total support to India's anti-British struggle, so that "the goal of liberty may be reached without delay." Hayes begins by noting Subhas' anxiety over the anti-Indian attitudes of Germany's civil society — the Indian students in Germany had been harassed and Subhas himself had been called a 'negro' on the Berlin streets — and his rather hesitant steps towards a political alliance with what was clearly a racist state. Japan, Italy and Germany coordinated a policy on India in 1941-42, with Subhas sitting on the German side at the meeting of December 1941, as a prime mover in bringing to the tripartite table the anti-colonial struggle in India. Hayes notes that Subhas might have been "naive" in believing that "Germany was out to destroy the British Empire." His recruitment of the Azad Hind army was motivated, even nervously so, by news of Japanese military successes in south east Asia, notes Hayes.
Valuable documents constitute the appendix in Hayes' racy book: the 9 April 1941 'Plan for Co-operation between the Axis Powers and India', the Minutes of the Bose-Ribbentrop Conference of 29 November 1941, and others reveal Subhas' strategic alliance-making in the troubled years of World War II. Hayes defends what, in retrospect, but surely even during the tumultuous years of 1939-1942, seems a bewildering Subhas fascination for Nazi Germany. Hayes argues that Subhas was "bothered with little more than India throughout his life", and concludes with: "had he been exposed to German atrocities, there is no doubt he would have reacted with revulsion and that all of his former reservations regarding Nazi ideology and racism would have come to the fore." It was also easy, Hayes suggests, for Subhas to focus on the death of Indians rather than on the "fate of unknown peoples [the Jews] in Europe."
Sugata Bose's is an exhaustive work, and will surely be the definitive biography of an enigmatic and mesmerising leader. Hayes' book, while limited in scope, is no less compelling for the attempt to reconstruct Subhas' true political inclinations. The former is a great piece of historical reconstruction, while Hayes' is a drier if quicker narrative.
Pramod K Nayar teaches English at the University of Hyderabad

Srinagar-based journalist Afsana Rashid's book "Widows And Half Widows" deals with cases of torture

Bodies of evidence

Srinagar-based journalist Afsana Rashid's book Widows And Half Widows deals with cases of torture, extra-judicial arrests, and killings spanning over two decades in the Kashmir valley. Rashid, with the help of sociologists, doctors, lawyers and human rights organisations like the Association of Parents of Disappeared Persons (APDP) and Jammu and Kashmir Coalition of Civil Society (JKCCS), has not only compiled cases of enforced "disappearances" of ordinary Kashmiris, but also followed-up on the cases, only to find the victims and their kin denied justice by the courts and the State Human Rights Commission (SHRC). Rashid documents how the police beat up women from APDP who sought information about their missing kin. And how Nobel laureate and head of APDP Parveena Ahangar once tried to erect a memorial for the 10,000 missing in Narbal, but an FIR was filed against her and the memorial material seized. These instances make it seem as if the state aims to obliterate, by force, every memory of human rights violations in the region. Rashid writes that, according to the international NGO Doctors Without Borders, not a single family has escaped the trauma of violence. And she documents innumerable cases. To take an example, the deaf and mute Zaytoon lost her husband in 2003 and was left with three children to feed. According to her eldest daughter, her father died due to continuous torture by the army. "Every time he was arrested, he was tortured brutally, and one day he turned insane and finally passed away." Death might have offered Samad (Zaytoo's husband) relief from pain and torture, but we continue to live and suffer, laments Zaytoon in the book. Another typical case is that of Mohammed Shafi Dar, a student of class XII from Batamaloo. He was abducted by the BSF, along with his friend, during the night of May 22-23, 1990, as per the police reports. His friend was released eight days later from the Joint Interrogation Center (JIC) at Hari Niwas, but Dar went missing. The SHRC maintains that the student was not connected to militancy, and recommended monetary interim relief to the family. But so far the family has not received relief. When thousands of mass graves were discovered in the region in 2009, the SHRC broadened its investigation to look into 2,717 unidentified graves in Pooch and another 1,127 in Rajouri. In August 2011, in north Kashmir, the SHRC found 2,730 unidentified bodies — 574 of which were of local residents who had "disappeared". The International People's Tribunal on Kashmir (IPTK) stated, "Not taking Poonch into estimation of averages (because the number of graves is almost double those of other districts), an average of approximately 1,000 graves/district and 1,100 bodies/district can be predicted. If similar estimates are applied to other districts that were affected during militancy… the total number of graves and bodies fall approximately to around 10,000 and 11,000 respectively." This reverses India's long-time insistence that the dead were all militants killed in Kashmir's two-decade-long struggle for self-determination. Yet, despite these numbers, on September 27 this year, Chief Minister Omar Abdullah said, "There are no mass graves in Kashmir. It is important to put the record straight." Widows And Half Widows will serve as an eye-opener for all those who want to know more than what a jingoistic national media lets on about the region.

Bringing faith onto the storyboard

The lives of Mohammed Ali and Mohammad Arif Vakil are like a script straight out of a comic book — they are real estate developers in the day and comic book artists by night. The duo released their book, 40 Sufi Comics, at the Comic Con Express at the World Trade Centre at Cuffe parade on Saturday. The convention is hosted by the Indian Comic Con, which brings writers, artists, publishers and comic book enthusiasts together. 40 Sufi Comics consists of comic strips about spirituality in Islam.
The Bangalore-based siblings grew up in Dubai and went to a madrasa in the evenings where they heard stories about the benevolence of the Prophet and his disciples. This, coupled with the influence of comics on Indian culture and mythology, motivated the siblings to bring out the comic book.
It all began with a book, says Ali. "I once read How to Think Like Leonardo Da Vinci, and it explained how drawing improves the power of observation. That's how I began practising art and realised that it could be put to good use, too."
Ali and Arif then came up with small comic strips which talked about Islamic history and traditions. "There are many misconceptions about what is taught in madrasas and what Islam is about. That's when we thought we should put this together and look at Islamic history and tradition through the art of comic books," Ali says.
Two years ago, the brothers put up some comics on their blog as an experiment and gathered visitors. Soon, many madrasas insisted that they publish the comics.
"I do the artwork and, when it comes to writing, my brother and I discuss it and come out with a script," says Ali. They put in their own money for first volume, but, soon, the response was overwhelming and the siblings now plan to come out with a second volume by next year and put out animated films online. "We are also looking at getting these comics translated in other languages, too. We recently received a request from a madrasa in Reunion Island, around Madagascar, to translate them into French," he said.

Comic Con defies all conventions Indigenous comics publishers thrive as bigwigs like DC and Marvel Comics take a back seat

Comic Con defies all conventions

Indigenous comics publishers thrive as bigwigs like DC and Marvel Comics take a back seat



Mumbai's comic-loving sub-culture crawled out of its subterranean lairs on Saturday to make its presence felt on the first day of Comic Con Express, the city's first comic book convention.
The event saw many indigenous publishers as the titans, DC and Marvel, may very well have been taking a long intergalactic flight in Wonder Woman's invisible plane. Prashont, 19, said he was slightly disappointed but happy that a fresh perspective involving "desi twists" would come out to play.
Indeed. A wide range was showcased, from Vimanika Comics that are strongly rooted in mythology to Level 10 Comics that made a conscious shift away from mythology, placing zombies in Bangalore with The Rabhas Incident.
Jatin Varma, founder of Comic Con India, said, "Many comic book readers tend to dismiss an artist if, say, he's written for Tinkle or some other Indian title. But we want to show people that if you just interact with the artists, there's a lot you can learn about Indian comics."
Among them is Abhijit Kini, a freelance illustrator who created a set of merchandise from his old artworks especially for the event. "If all is sold, I'll only just break even. But the idea is just to get my stuff out there. There's only so much visibility a byline in a newspaper or magazine can give you. This takes it to a whole different level."
Visitors to the convention ranged from the mildly curious to connoisseurs with high expectations. Most, of course, came to revel in unmitigated geekery. Just ask the guy skulking around as Darth Vader or the curvaceous Wonder Bai mascot.
For the organisers of the Comic Con Express, it's still a learning experience. Jatin Varma, founder of Comic Con India, points out a very discernable difference in the kind of audience both cities have attracted. "Most people who've come so far are college students and young professionals. In Delhi, we were unprepared for the large number of families who turned up. So we ensured that this convention had enough options for children, but it turns out we missed the mark on that one."
Aalok Joshi, a prolific comic book collector, believes for a Comic Con in India to be comparable to those held in the US and UK, an organic growth of the industry is necessary. "Comic book illustrators and writers are still coming into their own. Yes, a Comic Con overseas is much more about fans getting to meet writers and artists and getting their autographs. But then again, in India, comic book professionals are considered artists at the most. Over there, they are icons, like rock stars."

Why does India shun these Malayalis? They sought a livelihood in Pakistan, now they find they are not accepted back home

Why does India shun these Malayalis?

They sought a livelihood in Pakistan, now they find they are not accepted back home

For 80-year-old Mohammed Haji, every ring of the phone and every chime of a bicycle bell on the street arouse great expectations. He looks up in hope when he hears a noise at his doorstep — only to feel disappointed when it turns out to be someone else, and not the postman bringing him the news he's been waiting to hear. For the past two years, Haji has been awaiting an answer from the High Court to a simple question: Can he die as an Indian in his motherland, or will he have to continue living with the threat of deportment hanging over his head? Haji, a Pakistani national known among his acquaintances as 'Karachi Mohammed', lives in Machinjery, a small town in Kerala's Malappuram district. He is one among the many Pakistani Malayalis scattered across Malappuram and other districts of Kerala like Kannur, Kasargod and Kozhikode, which have large Muslim populations. In the 1950s and 1960s, these Malayalis, most of them in their early twenties, crossed the border illegally and travelled to Pakistan in a bid to escape the extreme poverty back home. In Karachi, they took up small jobs in restaurants and tea shops. "I went to Karachi in 1950 and worked as a helper in a hotel," says Haji. But once in Pakistan, without any legal documents, making a trip back home became a huge problem. "My wife was alone and I have no kids," says Haji. He (and others like him in Karachi) was advised by an agent to get a Pakistani passport. Barely school-educated, the illegal migrants did not realise that a Pakistani passport will deprive them of their Indian citizenship. But Haji had to visit his wife in India, and since there was no other way out, he became a Pakistani passport holder. After that, he travelled from Karachi to Kerala many times on an Indian visa. Ten years ago, at the age of 70, Haji moved back to Kerala, hoping to spend the last few years of his life at home. "I was born in India. This is my country. But I am considered a Pakistani here," says Haji. Two years ago, Haji sent a petition to the High Court, requesting for Indian citizenship. He is yet to hear from the Court. "We have none of the rights that Indians enjoy. We can't vote, we can't stand for elections, we can't own land, or even have a bank account. The Kerala government has to recommend us for citizenship to the central government. But for some reason, they aren't doing it." Haji, however, remains positive. "I keep thinking 'The order will come today.'" Midnight raids But the denial of a citizen's rights is only one of the many problems faced by the 'Pakistani Malayalis'. Until four years ago, 68-year-old Pilayil Alawi didn't bother to fix a bulb in his house. Ever since he came home from Pakistan in 1992, Alawi and his wife Fatimah spent their nights at home in darkness, straining their ears for the sounds of a policeman's boot. They had their escape route chalked out before nightfall. Should a team of cops invade their home, one was to run and hide in the attic, and the other in the nearby paddy field. Alawi, too, is a Pakistani national who now lives in a one-room house in Kundoor, another small town in Malappuram. In 1969, he slipped into Bangladesh (then a part of Pakistan) via Calcutta by foot. He was arrested at the border and put in prison. "I was in jail for eight months and badly beaten up," recalls Alawi. He made it to Karachi later, where he made a living as an electrician, and got himself a Pakistani passport. But things took a turn for the worse when he returned to Kundoor for good. "The police kept harassing us by conducting midnight raids. My wife and I were always prepared to run the moment we heard a police jeep." Potential employers thought of him as a Pakistani spy. "Though I'd worked for many years as an electrician, I could never get a permanent job in Kundoor. I even went up to acquaintances and offered to fix their electrical appliances, but they wouldn't hire me. I was reduced to doing coolie work when I didn't have enough to support my wife." During the Kargil War in 1999, local political parties tried to extort money from Alawi, telling him that if he didn't pay up, they would inform the police that he's a Pakistani and get him arrested. "I refused to pay, and was thrown into jail for 17 days," he says. Now an old man, and poor, Alawi dreads dying as a foreigner in India. "My Pakistani passport got stolen. My documents show I was born in India. My wife and I sent 50 letters to the central government asking for citizenship but they never replied." In response to one of his numerous letters to the state government, the then Kerala CM VS Achuthanandan finally informed Alawi that the Superintendent of Police (SP) will approve his stay in Kerala. "The police don't bother me now," he says. "But like every Pakistani Malayali, I want to die an Indian." Desperate measures Until a few years ago, Pakistani Malayalis lived with a paralysing fear of being deported to Pakistan. "Some die, some get shot," says Malayalam filmmaker PT Kunju Muhammed, whose film Paradesi narrates a poignant tale about a Pakistani Malayali. Many resorted to desperate measures to ward off all the attention. "I know of this Malayali who would not speak to anyone when outside. Even if people asked him something, he would glare at them and keep walking. Or he would ignore them. A few people suspected he was of unsound mind. But at home, he would talk very normally," explains Muhammed. "Some others say they have a disease and rarely step out of their house. Some with the late night police raids and constant harassment, are unable to fall asleep," he says. At the SP office in Malappuram, Sankaran Kutty, junior police superintendent, says that these Malayalis no longer face the threat of deportation, thanks to the amendments that have been made to the Foreigners Act of 1946 and the Citizenship Act of 1955. "These Malayalis can now stay in India provided they have the right documents." Yet, despite these amendments, they have to live under many restrictions and rules (they are prohibited from visiting certain areas; they have to inform the SP every time they leave their district, even if they are travelling within Kerala, etc) that even inadvertently flouting any of them could become reason enough for deportation. The threat of deportation will never be gone unless and until they get Indian citizenship.

British-era signal cabin now history Rickety Dadar South Cabin was pulled down last week

British-era signal cabin now history

Rickety Dadar South Cabin was pulled down last week


One of the last few hand-operated lever frame railway signal cabins near Dadar railway station was pulled down last week. Such cabins were inseparable part of the Bombay railways when tracks were changed to divert trains.
Called Dadar South Cabin, the structure belonging to the Bombay Baroda and Central India Railway (now called Western Railway) had also featured and documented in a number of railway heritage books and journals. The Dadar South Cabin was pulled down as it had become weak and could have posed danger to commuters in passing trains. "The Dadar South Cabin was crucial one as Dadar was one of the main interchange points between WR and CR," a retired official said.
The railways in Mumbai were the first ones in South East Asia and all the equipment used were brought by the sea route in steamers from London. "Early signaling in India was supplied from the UK. Many wayside stations were signaled in a style more associated with European practice," John Hinson, railway signaling historian based in the UK said.
Sources said with technological advancements in signaling and power supply, old lever-frame signal boxes are fast vanishing from the railways in Mumbai. "Only a handful of lever-frame signal boxes remain along the running lines today, though a few functional ones continue to slog along some lesser-known sidings and railway yards. Hand-operated levers can still be found at yards like CST, Dadar, Kalyan, Bandra and also along the old stretches of the port trust line,'' an official said.
The signal boxes were modelled on the British Railway signaling systems and the one at Andheri and Elphinstone Road were based on the London, Midland & Scottish Railway in Britain, with the track layout painted in white on a black background and manufactured by the Railway Signal Company in the UK. A similar signal box originally manufactured by Westinghouse Company of UK was also found at Kurla till recently.

Drink driving cases mark a fall

The traffic police's campaign against drink driving seems to be finally bearing fruit as the number of offenders sent to jail and licences suspended have dipped this year compared with 2010.
Until October 6, the traffic police registered 10,054 cases of drink driving in which 3,975 motorists were sent to jail, the licences of 3,902 offenders suspended and a total of Rs1.99 crore was collected as fine. In 2010, 16,290 cases were registered in which 10,262 motorists were sent to jail, the licences of 8,354 offenders suspended and Rs3.14 crore was collected as fine.
"The state government's decision to increase the severity of punishment and hike the penalty has created a sense of fear among motorists. We have also been strictly conducting the drive at major junctions," said Nandkumar Chougule, deputy commissioner of police, traffic.
In 2010, the government had increased the jail term for repeat offenders from six months to two years and hiked the fine from Rs2,000 to Rs3,000.
The traffic police, in collaboration with various NGOs, are also conducting awareness programmes in various schools and colleges and regularly conducting workshops for autorickshaw and taxi drivers and even private vehicle owners.
The campaign had started on June 20, 2007, after it was observed that most accidents were caused by motorists who were driving drunk. By December 31, 2007, the licences of 4,866 motorists were cancelled by the court and collected a total of Rs2.28 crore collected as fine.
"The campaign has created awareness among motorists, who avoid driving drunk," said Ashok Datar, traffic expert.
He suggested that the traffic police should start another drive to stop motorists from jumping signals and cutting lanes.

Convention for comic book lovers comes to city

This weekend, the city will play host to Comic Con Express, the travelling version of Comic Con India, the annual comics convention which began in Delhi last year. The convention will feature 47 exhibitors, including publishers and independent artists, and 15 exclusive comic book titles will be launched during the two-day event.
With the foremost aim of increasing local interaction between artists, publishers and readers, the convention also promises to be a treat for comic book lovers who will finally be able to put faces to the names of their favourite Indian artists and writers visiting the convention to interact with fans.
Highlights on Saturday include the relaunch of The Adventures of Timpa series about a teenage detective and his grandfather by Indrajaal Comics, the launch of three new Chhota Bheem titles and an interactive session with celebrated comics artist and writer Aabid Surti, the man behind characters such as Dabooji and Bahadur.
The organisers hope the convention will help people rediscover their love for comics. Jatin Verma, founder, Twenty Onwards Media and Comic Con India, said, "It would be great if people come and reconnect with comics like Amar Chitra Katha and Diamond comics which they read as children."
Comic Con Express will be held at World Trade Centre, Cuffe Parade on October 22 and October 23, from 10am to 8pm. Entry is completely free. A free bus shuttle service will be available outside Akashwani building, Churchgate on both days.

Not-so-happy diwali festival for animals

Imagine loud bombs are going off everywhere around you. You panic and run around blindly. Suddenly you're caught, and a string of firecrackers is tied to you. The crackers start going off burning the skin right off your sweating torso.
Every Diwali, the city turns into an apocalyptic nightmare for animals, especially stray dogs. According to the BMC census, there are 70,000 dogs in the city, most of them strays.
But, Canines Can Care, a canine welfare organisation, has taken it upon itself to make the streets a little safer for dogs this Diwali. They have started a campaign, Festival of Kindness, which aims to spread awareness in schools and firms about the havoc that crackers wreck on dogs. They are also counselling people on how to take care of their pets during the festival.
"We want to make sure that the festival is a happy time for all, animals included," says Madhvi Tangella, 33, a counsellor with Canines Can Care.
Such initiatives are very essential, said Sudnya Patkar, 64, who is the founder of In Defence of Animals. "The cruelty towards animals during Diwali is shocking. People tie crackers on the tails of dogs and donkeys and watch them run around in pain and fear. They burst crackers in front of bullocks and horses," said Patkar.
A dog's hearing ability is seven times that of humans. Certain frequencies of sound register 40 times more loudly in dogs than they would in humans.
Veterinarian cardiologist Sangeeta Vensarkar Shah said: "Every Diwali, you see scared stray dogs running on the streets. There is no one to comfort or look after them." The bang of a bomb is so loud that it can cause a heart attack among dogs, even if they are in the safety of a house.
"I once had a woman call me up frantically screaming that her dog dropped dead after a bomb went off in front of their house," said Shah.
Sunish Subramanian, secretary of the Plants and Animal Welfare Society of Mumbai, said that even birds and rodents are affected during Diwali. "Can we not celebrate without being cruel to the creatures around us? If a dog or a cat or a pigeon takes refuge in your building, don't drive them away they're just looking for a place to hide because they're scared," he said.