Indo-Pak cricket, like diplomatic relations between the two countries, suffers from acute schizophrenia. Rewind to January 1999 when a Chennai crowd gave a standing ovation to Wasim Akram's men after they had just beaten India. Six months later, the two countries met again in a world cup match against the backdrop of the Kargil war and fans of both sides abused each other. In 2004, we were treated to a Pakistani crowd singing, "Balaji, zara dheere chalo" every time the Tamil Nadu fast bowler ran in to bowl. Eight years earlier, I had watched a Karachi crowd hurl bottles on the field when their team lost to India in a dramatic last over. Two years ago, Sohail Tanveer was the toast of the inaugural IPL after starring in Rajasthan Royals surprise triumph. Today, Tanveer and his other Pakistani teammates find themselves unwanted by their IPL owners. Predictably, the latest controversy over the exclusion of the Pakistani players has set us off on another...

If the twitterati were India's voting class, then Shashi Tharoor would be the Supreme Leader. A few weeks ago, when Tharoor's tweet on the government's visa policies generated much fuss among his ministerial colleagues, I had jocularly tweeted, "Maybe, Tharoor should quit politics and join journalism. He would have greater freedom as an edit page writer than as a neta!" Within minutes, I was hit by an avalanche of angry Tharoor followers on Twitter, suggesting that I had committed the ultimate 'sin' by questioning their twitter icon's credentials to hold public office. Unfortunately for Tharoor, his parliamentary constituency of Thiruvananthapuram is not quite the Twitter universe while his Congress party workers reserve their blind adoration for only one Family. Which is why Tharoor the politician is at odds with Tharoor the twitterer. The success of Twitter is built on the idea of having an open and constant conversation between a mix of anonymous and influential people and is designed to bridge social divides....

We live in the age of institutionalized corruption. From politicians to judges, from senior bureaucrats to policemen, from corporate tycoons to petty officials, everyone it seems has a price. As journalists, our profession demands that we inquire, interrogate and expose corruption. So, when a Madhu Koda is jailed we rejoice that the law has caught up with a former chief minister. When allegations against a judge lead to impeachment we express our satisfaction. When an infotech czar is punished we are hopeful of improved standards of corporate governance. But what happens when the camera turns inwards, when news itself has a price tag attached to it? A corrupt politician can be jailed, so can a business leader. A judge can be impeached, a babu can be tried under the prevention of corruption act. But what happens to the editor/reporter who brazenly endorses cash for news ? The recent controversy over 'paid news' that is undermining the very foundation of journalism strikes at...

In politics, never write off anyone. A few months ago, I was invited by the Telangana Rashtra Samiti leader, and politician of the moment, K Chandrasekhar Rao, to his residence for an Andhra (oops, Telangana!) lunch. Tied up in other work, I frankly did not make the effort to keep the date. The fact that KCR's party just has two MPs, including the party 'supremo', may have influenced my decision. In Delhi's power equations, two MPs make you almost irrelevant: lunch with KCR, honestly, seemed a waste of time. Today, KCR has proved the power of one, forcing the Centre to blink after going on a 11-day fast over his demand for a separate state of Telangana. The demand is not new. Nor is the student agitation. In 1969, more than 300 students were killed while agitating for a separate state. Long before KCR, there was Dr M Chenna Reddy, who eventually allowed his separatist urges to be dissolved by his ambition to...