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<title>India 2.0</title>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/</link>
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<language>en</language>
<copyright>Copyright 2006</copyright>
<lastBuildDate>Fri, 30 Dec 2005 12:38:45 -0500</lastBuildDate>
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<title>Stories</title>
<description>At last, the stories I reported in India have started to run. I hope you saw the one this week on call centers. Be sure to check out the photo gallery and the audio. The latter will give you a sampling of the music experienced at all those nightclubs and parties I mentioned! After hanging out with the call center set for countless hours, my plans for New Year&apos;s feel quite tame. Today, the business section ran the story about Fairfax County&apos;s office in Bangalore. After returning to the United States, I discovered that the state of Maryland is also about to open one up in two weeks. It seems local governments have realized this globalization thing is here to stay and they need to lure business back to their jurisdictions. We&apos;re hoping the story I promised on Pune runs soon. Several Northern Virginia companies exemplify how the level of</description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/12/stories.html</link>
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<category>Back Home</category>
<pubDate>Fri, 30 Dec 2005 12:38:45 -0500</pubDate>
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<title>Back Home</title>
<description>So this journey ends pretty much the way it started: me in my bedroom surrounded by suitcases. They are calling out to be unpacked, but that&apos;s not likely until I finish the four stories I promised I&apos;d write for The Post. Thus this final post is really not a goodbye, as you will likely be hearing from me in the weeks to come, albeit through longer stories, not blogs. There are many elements of Indian life I did not blog about, and perhaps some of that material might supplement those more traditional pieces. If you&apos;ll recall, we began this trip with me in a quandary over whether to pack more saris, salwar kameez or Western attire. I packed a little of all three genres, but I return with a fourth: fusion gear. I first noticed women in the Indian workplace wearing something that looked not quite like shirts and not</description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/12/back_home.html</link>
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<category>Back Home</category>
<pubDate>Wed, 07 Dec 2005 12:30:00 -0500</pubDate>
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<title>Signs</title>
<description>Among the things that make India&apos;s street landscape so distinctly Indian: Cars dodging herds of cattle, three-wheeled motorized and bicycle rickshaws, and handpainted billboards boasting everything from laundry detergent to Bollywood movies. My week in Guwahati unveiled quite a few signs of change -- literally. There&apos;s an overall sleeker look in the city -- more malls, condos and fancy restaurants -- and the once cartoonish billboards along the side of the road have also gone high-tech. Increasingly they are digitally produced, according to sign painter Arun Dey. Nitin, whose photos accompany this entry (click them to see full-size versions), stumbled upon Dey painting this sign for Amul, a food production company, and asked him about his profession. It&apos;s a dying one, Dey said. He estimated that 95 percent of new billboards are now designed on a computer. They often cater to regional markets, such as mobile provider Airtel&apos;s advertisement here</description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/11/signs.html</link>
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<category>In Guwahati</category>
<pubDate>Sat, 26 Nov 2005 10:04:00 -0500</pubDate>
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<title>Reader Response</title>
<description><![CDATA[Here's some of the feedback we've been getting to the blog: It is close to 10 in the evening and even as I'm typing these words in my reading chamber, I can hear the Hindi film music blowing out from outside. There is this grand Diwali festivity going around in the suburban Delhi apartment I live in. Young people are dancing on a makeshift wooden floor on remixes of old Hindi music while older people (gray-haired gentleman with pot-bellies and fat ladies decked in shining silk and dyed hair) are gossiping and laughing in small groups. Some are feasting on badly made delicacies in the numerous food stalls lined on one side of the community garden, while another group is busy playing Tambola (a kind of gambling game). &nbsp;I realize that life has to move on and there is no point in sitting glum-faced just because a tragedy hit so]]></description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/11/reader_response.html</link>
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<category></category>
<pubDate>Wed, 23 Nov 2005 15:48:58 -0500</pubDate>
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<title>Delhi Nights</title>
<description><![CDATA[We finally headed to Odyssey to see for ourselves what a nightclub in a mall would feel like. Nitin took some pictures so you can share our experience. One note: Admission to the club -- like so many purchases in India -- is negotiable. For five of us, we got in for about the equivalent of $30. We had one &quot;stag&quot; member but he was white so the bouncer said he would have let him in anyway. No joke. It's apparently very in vogue for clubs to have lots of expats around. The first three pictures show revelers at Odyssey, a club at the Sahara Mall in Gurgaon (all photos by Nitin Mukul). The next two show Q'Ba, a 14,000-square-foot restaurant and nightclub in Delhi. [Editor's note: Posted by washingtonpost.com Business and Technology editor Bob Greiner on behalf of Mitra, who is currently offline for a bit more than a]]></description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/11/delhi_nights.html</link>
<guid>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/11/delhi_nights.html</guid>
<category>In Delhi</category>
<pubDate>Sun, 13 Nov 2005 08:38:49 -0500</pubDate>
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<title>Building Home</title>
<description><![CDATA[&nbsp; Buildings under construction at ATS Greens Village, a condo complex in Noida, a city near Delhi. (Photos by Nitin Mukul -- click for larger version) The brochure from ATS Greens Village, a new development in the Delhi suburb of Noida, lists the type of people buying dwellings in high-rise towers that look out onto a shopping complex, a gym, a pool, tennis courts and a clubhouse. Topping the list: NRIs. My in-laws are among them.&nbsp; I've written once here about NRIs, which stands for Non-Resident Indian -- or among those who deride us, Not Really Indian. I have been doing some reporting here on the NRIs who are coming back to India, lured by its booming economy, better job opportunities, aging parents or a desire to have their children raised in their homeland (and for some, all of these factors have brought them back). A new acronym (remember the]]></description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/11/building_home.html</link>
<guid>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/11/building_home.html</guid>
<category>In Delhi</category>
<pubDate>Mon, 07 Nov 2005 20:05:00 -0500</pubDate>
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<title>More Than Mobile</title>
<description><![CDATA[A few mornings a week, I am awakened by a call on my mobile phone. The offer ranges from a new credit card to more life insurance to banking services, and I usually hang up once I hear stylish, sing-songy, pre-recorded Hindi. &nbsp; From left, Shohinee Ghosh, 25, Nitin Mahajan, 26, and Rahul Sharma, 26, use mobiles at Cafe Coffee Day in New Delhi. (Photos by Nitin Mukul) During this short time in India, my phone here has morphed into much more than its counterpart in the States. And there's more to it than the fact that I call it a &quot;mobile,&quot; not a cell phone. To invite people to a birthday party for Nitin (yes, he arrived on Wednesday, hence the delay in blogging) this past weekend, I text-messaged them. He also received more text messages wishing him "many happy returns of the day" (that's a taste of Indian]]></description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/11/more_than_mobil.html</link>
<guid>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/11/more_than_mobil.html</guid>
<category>In Delhi</category>
<pubDate>Mon, 07 Nov 2005 08:32:00 -0500</pubDate>
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<title>Life Goes On</title>
<description>The roads were uncharacteristically clear and free of traffic. Officers at checkpoints peered into our SUV with flashlights. But people also laughed, danced and played cards tonight in Delhi as Diwali festivities went on, hours after the bombings. As I write this, it is 5 a.m. and I have just gotten back from two parties, which gives you a sense of the kind of affairs these were. Upper-class Delhi-ites throw Diwali parties where flickering candles compete with glittering saris, where drinking and gambling goes on into the wee hours, and dinner gets served around 1 a.m. (if you&apos;re lucky). To be sure, the bombings came up in conversation with almost everyone, and several people likened the day&apos;s events to the London bombings. A few would-be revelers heeded the government&apos;s warning to stay home. But one host remarked to me that she just didn&apos;t feel right canceling something commemorating one of</description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/10/life_goes_on.html</link>
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<category>In Delhi</category>
<pubDate>Sat, 29 Oct 2005 19:55:00 -0500</pubDate>
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<title>Holiday Bombings</title>
<description>The scenes have been eerily familiar: the news consumed with images of people running and crying, my mobile not working, family and friends trying to get through any way they can to check on me. Three bomb blasts shook Delhi today, killing at least 50 people on the eve of the Hindu festival of Diwali. I had planned to do some holiday shopping of my own today, but most markets are shut down and people have been warned to stay home. I was a reporter in New York on Sept. 11, 2001, and people&apos;s gut reactions in times like this are really universal. Binny (my husband&apos;s cousin) asked his daughter Pranati -- out with friends for a Diwali fair -- to come right home. My uncle, unable to get through on my mobile, called Namrata, Binny&apos;s wife, to make sure I was safe. To make matters scarier, fireworks and firecrackers</description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/10/holiday_bombing.html</link>
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<category>In Delhi</category>
<pubDate>Sat, 29 Oct 2005 12:35:00 -0500</pubDate>
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<title>Bangalore Dreams</title>
<description><![CDATA[On the day I arrived in Bangalore, one Sunday talk show dedicated its entire program to dissecting the question: Is the Bangalore dream dying?I watched as IT workers debated non-IT workers about everything from congested roads to rising prices in India's &quot;Silicon Plateau,&quot; but didn't quite understand the show's premise. Not until a full 24 hours later, during a literal standstill in traffic -- my driver actually turned off the engine -- that was part of a 90-minute trip to the part of town headquartering dozens of tech companies. This marked my third visit to Bangalore -- all after India's economic liberalization -- and I do not recall traffic ever being so bad. Granted, this city has just experienced its highest rainfall in several decades, but multiple residents and drivers assured me that Bangalore's infrastructure was being pushed to its limits long before the monsoon, that the the bumpy roads]]></description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/10/bangalore_dream.html</link>
<guid>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/10/bangalore_dream.html</guid>
<category>In Bangalore</category>
<pubDate>Wed, 26 Oct 2005 09:50:00 -0500</pubDate>
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<title>It&apos;s Time to Party</title>
<description><![CDATA[That people ate, drank and danced at swanky joints across Delhi this past weekend might not surprise you. But it wasn't always this way. Years ago, most urbanites looking for a meal outside the home had choices at opposite ends of the spectrum -- restaurants in five-star hotels or fast cheap eats at roadside dhabas. The liberalization reforms of 1991 allowed franchises like McDonald's and Pizza Hut to enter India, but they also spawned homegrown competition. Pizza Corner, for example, serves spicy pies catering to Indian tastes, while Café Coffee Day offers curried vegetable puffs and paneer sandwiches alongside chai and coffee. Proper sit-down restaurants are now opening at a rapid pace in major metropolitan centers. Besides Indian cuisine, of course, there's Chinese, Thai, Italian and a genre repeatedly described to me as "conti" until I figured out that &quot;continental cuisine&quot; had fallen victim to Indians' tendency to abbreviate. ("No]]></description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/10/its_time_to_par.html</link>
<guid>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/10/its_time_to_par.html</guid>
<category>In Delhi</category>
<pubDate>Mon, 24 Oct 2005 16:55:00 -0500</pubDate>
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<title>The Thinker</title>
<description><![CDATA[I saw something this week I rarely see in India, let alone the United States. Someone gave a beggar money. Atanu Dey, who made a brief appearance in an earlier post, says it's standard practice. I have always been advised to refrain because most beggars in India reportedly give the brunt of handouts directly to a beggar lord. So I pressed Dey, a self-described thinker, on why he chooses to give. &quot;Would you beg?&quot; he said, turning the questioning on me rather fiercely. Then softening, he said: &quot;They beg because there is not an option. ... They were born in misery and live in misery.&quot; Dey makes a living thinking about how best to develop rural -- and mostly poor -- India. He moved to Pune a few months ago, works as an economist and senior vice president for the Mumbai-based Netcore Solutions and runs a blog that muses on]]></description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/10/the_thinker.html</link>
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<category>In Pune</category>
<pubDate>Fri, 21 Oct 2005 23:45:00 -0500</pubDate>
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<title>Outsourcing for the Small Fry</title>
<description><![CDATA[Everyone's going offshore ... except for smaller-sized companies, entrepreneur Rajesh Shah observed a few years ago. So in 2003, his information-technology firm abandoned India's domestic market to earn dollars, albeit from smaller fish than household names like IBM, Dell and Hewlett Packard. &quot;For small- and medium-sized businesses to look at offshoring is not easy,&quot; Shah said this morning. &quot;For them to be competitive in the U.S. market, though, they have to go offshore.&quot; Strategic Sourcing India Pvt. Ltd.'s office sits above a crowded and dusty shopping center in a bustling part of Pune, just steps from the brand-name shops and franchises on Mahatma Gandhi Road. It is an example of traditional offshoring, and one that many companies utilized before opening their own offices in India. Amid rising salaries throughout the country, though, companies like Strategic Sourcing must limit their overhead to stay competitive. Unlike the sleek IT parks and office]]></description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/10/outsourcing_for.html</link>
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<category>In Pune</category>
<pubDate>Wed, 19 Oct 2005 17:44:00 -0500</pubDate>
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<title>Middle Class Sticker Shock</title>
<description><![CDATA[ '); document.write(''); document.write(''); document.write(''); } //--> &amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p class=&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;quot;error&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;quot;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;JavaScript is required to display this interactive graphic. If it is turned off, please enable JavaScript in your browser preferences.&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt; The price of globalization is much higher than I expected. I don't mean the disparity between rich and poor, the loss of culture, the erosion of extended family (all subjects I hope to touch upon in future blog entries). I mean the actual cost of things. I was sick late last week, hence the delay in posting. But once the fever was down, I headed to the mall. Not to keep blabbing and blogging about malls ... but that's really how many Indian twentysomethings (I'm hanging on to that category, albeit barely) pass their time. I spent Saturday afternoon browsing Metro, a mammoth multiplex of glass and neon amid others just like it in Gurgaon, a fast-growing suburb of Delhi. Prices, in]]></description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/10/middle_class_st.html</link>
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<category>In Pune</category>
<pubDate>Mon, 17 Oct 2005 15:43:18 -0500</pubDate>
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<title>High Hopes at the Mall</title>
<description><![CDATA[A red carpet, dozens of candles and endless strands of white flowers paved our entry to the opening of a new mall in Delhi tonight. Because this week marks Durga Puja, a Hindu holiday celebrating good's conquest of evil, it was easy to mistake the adornments for the religious festival -- but the only things being celebrated inside were entrepreneurship and the wave of consumerism sweeping India's upper middle class. Make no mistake about the &quot;mall&quot; moniker. In India, that means marble floors and glitzy storefront displays. Like many conveniences taken for granted in the West, the Indian counterpart tends to be equally rooted in providing the customer experience. (McDonald's, for example, might have a worker who pumps your ketchup.) So the opening of M.G. 2 (named for its location on Mehrauli Gurgaon Road and because it is adjacent to M.G. 1) served up a heavy dose of pomp and]]></description>
<link>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/10/high_hopes_at_t.html</link>
<guid>http://blog.washingtonpost.com/india2point0/2005/10/high_hopes_at_t.html</guid>
<category>In Delhi</category>
<pubDate>Wed, 12 Oct 2005 16:05:00 -0500</pubDate>
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