This time it’s a journalist, not a novelist. Reviewing (shallow) Water made by the self-scourging Deepa Mehta. I had covered the likes of Mehta earlier. So this review is not worth writing about. And he makes all the usual noises about the backwardness of widow-related traditions, and other blah-blahs.

Is it surprising then, that the cheerleaders of these gutter inspectors should be left behind? They’re right there, behind them, tooting the Western trumpet with glee.