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Davos is a Band-Aid for a giant bruise

Imagine being stuck in a traffic jam made up of five cars for a good fifteen minutes.

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Imagine being stuck in a traffic jam made up of five cars for a good fifteen minutes. Coming from India the thought itself seems absurd, right? Well in Davos it has been happening regularly.

It’s a strange world. All the ‘beautiful’ people talking of having lost 10 and 11 zeroes of their fortunes and realising ( at last?) that there is an economic crises on. To me it is a bit like the well healed suddenly realising the horror of terror attacks after the Taj and Oberoi attacks just because it has hit closer to home. Hello, what about the nearly daily terror attacks in one or another part of India? Or like the US of A suddenly getting all het up about terror only after 9/11, when millions of people had been facing the same for dozens of years across the world. I asked gently, “What about the economic crises faced daily by millions around the world for decades?” But except for the few who have come to talk poverty, real poverty, mass poverty, there are few takers for that question.
It is difficult to be cooped up in the strange building that houses the Forum. It is airless and devoid of any natural light. And inside, Al Gore talks of the need to save energy and the climate change disaster. Others talk of green buildings.

Bill Clinton walked past, having delayed my session by 15 minutes as he went on too long. We shared the same room for our sessions. And in turn I went on the correct length thereby delaying someone else in turn. I am part of the parallel sessions. Read that as the sessions that are not hard core in the mostly male world of high finance and power. I talk of arts and social change, of the opportunities being missed by the power world in not seeing how minds can be touched and influenced through the right communication.

There is a series of Idealabs lead mostly by universities - Oxford, Cambridge, INSEAD, Harvard. These are interactive sessions in small groups of about 50 people where the brainstorming happens and new solutions are sought. Out of the box, whacky but practical solutions. The most fascinating is the one featuring WEF’s Young Global Leaders.

The global meltdown has brought discussions on social entrepreneurship to the fore and I attended interesting sessions by people like Vikram Narula. There is a huge presence from India, China and Japan, Korea and Russia. Africa is sparsely represented.

I heard of UNHCR offering a simulation of a refugee experience. I go off like a shot and find myself in an astonishing and frighteningly real simulation of getting into a cross-border refugee camp and spending days and nights being harassed by guards at a camp.
We are given identities. I am Zahira, 64, a widow with a head injury, disoriented. There is a family-less child whom I adopt even in my state of disorientedness. The guards demand money or jewellery to be let in, for utensils in which to get bread and water.
Someone in my tent is found to have a gun and is dragged off to be thrown into jail without food. We are interrogated in the night, lights being shone into our eyes by brutal guards. The other resident in my makeshift tent has also been shot. His name used to be Richard Branson. Here it is Khalid G.

It is a hard club to get into, I am told. Once in though, everyone is equal, you can go and walk up to anyone and talk - Premier, President or royalty. If you can find them. Most of them are closeted in private rooms without access.

Off then to a dinner where we are the cultural leaders. Must sing for my supper. Or speak at least.
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