- Still happening
July 13, 2013
The govt last year extended the club's lease up to 2050.
- Seeking good company
July 13, 2013
Madras Club is today home to modern aristocrats.
- Mission admission
July 13, 2013
The news of a member stumping up over a crore for entry to Mumbai’s Breach Candy club only proves that the allure of private clubs still holds…
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Look out, the millennium moppet is entering his teens. The blur before your eyes is him currently fast-forwarding into his thirteenth birthday, with a firm techno grip on the globe. Born in the year 2000, he is as hi-tech as a human being can be without being a robot. With a mom who fondly stored his foetal doings in Technicolor DVDs and delivered him in new-age musicinduced labour, he saw the world with 3D glasses from the word go. While their grandparents were entertained as infants with pebbles in tins for a rattle, the 2000-born dude was handed several remotes.
With I-Touch this and I-Pad that, here he is, the Apple of his own eye. His first 'waah' is his father's caller tune and the news of his birth a forward in many in-boxes around the world. A toddler when the twin towers went down in the US, he asked during bedtime stories, 'Who is the king of terrorists?'
He happily misses the class photo; they just copy-paste him into it later. He is surprised to hear that the Harry Potter and Hobbit movies used to be books and that pics couldn't be photo-shopped once upon a time. He talks in Twitter and remembers Facebook for its rustic charm. He has rarely seen a movie outside of a multiplex and never stood in a queue for tickets, having e-booked.
While the elder tot hid his lunch hurriedly under the sofa and checked if his nose had grown longer with every lie, the 2000-tyke flushed inedibles in the toilet and stood by like his name was Bond, James Bond. When as a parent you talk of the golden days lived without the Net, they yawn just like you did when your dad spoke of the sixteen miles he walked to school or the lamppost he studied under.
Born mobile phone in hand this child would rather text his friend standing a few feet away than call out or back-slap. Which doesn't mean he is a slouch when it comes to exercise. There is a gym in his home, his building, his pin code. He learnt to jog the minute he began to walk. His mom lost all her pregnancy weight via his grandma's secret seven-day diet and someone called Six Pack is his dad's god. There is no desi ghee on his parantha and no homemade butter baths. He understood the importance of salad leaves and calorie-conscious dressing at an early age;when in doubt, eat sprouts.
The millennium actually began in 2001 say the calendar scholars. But what's 365 days this way or that? Born in 2000 or 2001, these kids are e-privileged from day one. They are no virtual virgins but the czars of cyberspace. They shop on e-bay and 'poke' pals without lifting a single finger. They haven't heard of postmen and much less of carrier pigeons. My own millennium baby came pre-amused, calls me by name and makes me feel like I am the only dinosaur that did not go extinct.
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