Shobhaa De

Air India can learn from Finnair!

2012-01-28T19:37:00.002+05:30

It's been raining movies this weekend. Agneepath followed by The Descendants.Not that I am complaining about either! More from me on both. The idea is to make the most of January's last Sunday... I bet half the world is sighing, "Oh God! First month gone in a flash!" Gayaa toh gayaa. As for me, I'm in the mood to sign up for a flash mob performance of 'Chikni Chameli' outside the Mantralaya. Better still, the mob should opt for the original Marathi version - 'Komdi Palali."

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This appeared in the Asian Age today...

Maa…. Tujhe Salaam!

I’m writing this the morning after the night before.India’s 63rd Republic Day went off without an ‘incident’, and we should be so relieved. Imagine. It has come to that. For nearly a fortnight before the 26th Of January, there is an extra high alert all over the country.Which means it is not the best time to be traveling, especially if Delhi is your destination. First, you deal with the notorious fog ( surely, there’s a foreign hand somewhere?) that delays flights for hours on end. Then there’s the deadly red alert, which means further delays and mysterious procedures. Add to that, the presence of countless men in camouflage gear, bearing serious weapons and looking menacingly at weary, sleep deprived passengers. No, it’s not fun at all. The drill is slightly different in Mumbai, where the biggest Republic Day woes revolve around the ‘no booze’ rule. Restaurants, pubs, clubs and bars remain largely empty. And those die hard tipplers who can afford it, jump onto flights taking them for heavy duty r&r to Phuket ( shunned by the smart set these days, but popular with Bollywood holiday makers), Colombo or Rangoon( for the determinedly hip). Given the slight nip in the air, Mumbaikars grab the opportunity to air moth- balled shawls and sweaters and complain about catching a chill. Nobody really thinks about the State of the Nation while admiring the tastefully lit up Mantralaya. This is just as well. No matter what those bods in the Capital tell us, the story isn’t all that wonderful. And it’s slightly silly to keep pointing out the price of ‘mutter’ and ‘pyaaz’. Yes, those damned veggie prices are down by a couple of bucks. So what? The other, more significant statistics remain depressingly stagnant, and oppressively frustrating. At the moment, India’s report card isn’t reading well, never mind the fickle Sensex ka yo-yo. Or any of the other indicators of Bharat Mata’s ‘progress’ that swing as tantalizingly as Katrina Kaif’s hips in the latest superhit ‘item song’ (‘Chikni Chameli’ from ‘Agneepath’). Despite all the above, magic happens. As it did last evening, at a charming, old- fashioned Republic Day Reception , hosted by Shri K. Sankaranarayanan ,the well liked Governor of Maharashtra and his wife, Shrimati Radha , on the lawns of what has to be one of the grandest Raj Bhavans in India ( the one in Kolkata comes a close second).
I make it a point to attend these ‘At Homes’ each time I receive an invitation. Some Governors like me, some don’t. I’m guessing Shri Sankaranarayanan likes me, since I was invited for the second year running. This is just as well. I like him , too. And I enjoy the archaic drill on such occasions, replete with several colonial flourishes, like a military band playing Viennese waltzes, once they’re done with a brassy version of the national anthem. This is the moment everybody waits for. By then, a warm, melon hued sun is setting in the bay on the edge of the manicured lawns. A discreet drum roll alerts invitees to the presence of ‘Important Men’ who appear as if out of nowhere on top of a stone stairway that leads to the lawns. These represent the top brass of the State – Shri Prithivaj Chavan, the Chief Minister , and other members of the cabinet who walk right behind these two worthy gentleman. There is an appropriate hush, as members of the consular corps, visiting dignitaries ( the health minister from Quebec, this year), top cops, lawyers, business people, plus, assorted hustlers and other usual suspects stand aside respectfully to allow the slow passage of the Guv to a gilded sofa placed on a carpet over the lawn. While the Guv’s entourage follows at a small distance, various pushy invitees stalk and waylay the poor C.M.. thrusting cards into his hand, and clicking pictures with him on their cell phones ( Facebook, zindabad!).Meanwhile, a long queue starts to snake its way towards the gilded sofa, where the Guv and his gracious wife, nod and smile at people they are not likely to meet ever again. Tea is served . Coffee, too. Out of large stainless steel containers with convenient taps. Cake, sandwiches, samosas get piled on to the plates of those who aren’t busy schmoozing and sucking up to VIPs and prefer snacks over sycophancy. These form a minority. As the sun sinks into the Arabian Sea, a plaintive last post is sounded, and the tricolour comes down.Mercifully, no speeches are made. Not so mercifully, invitees complain that the parking lot this year has been shifted to Chowpatty Beach, nearly two kilometers away from the Raj Bhavan. Security issues are cited, but that explanation placates nobody. I spot India’s premier Oscar winner, Bhanu Athaiya, patiently waiting for her car. She is on an Oscar road trip across the country for a tv channel as a run up to the big event.It’s been years since an Indian won that precious Oscar. If only those dumb Hollywood guys who decide these things were to start a fresh category for the Best Item Song of the Year, India would win Oscar upon Oscar, year after year. Till such time, we’ll have to console ourselves and be grateful that Anil Kapoor gets mobbed in Agra, while Tom Cruise needs hired fans in Mumbai.
But for me, this lovely, newspaperless morning was made lovelier still when a friend sent me a link to a Youtube video that featured the good looking crew of Finnair dancing to a rollicking Bollywood track (“Om, Shanti, Om”) on a Republic Day flight to Delhi. Now, that’s what I call a real celebration. Why couldn’t Air India have thought of it first?

Proud to be Indian!

2012-01-26T12:09:00.002+05:30

I am sitting at home and thinking to myself.... It's kinda appropriate to be posting a column about Yoko Ono on India's 62nd Republic Day. 'Give peace a chance' , the immortal anthem written by Yoko's husband John Lennon so many moons ago, remains frighteningly relevant today. And there's Yoko, energetically carrying on in her own unique way... raising the bar with each cause she backs.
I shall attend the Governor's 'At Home' this evening, held on the manicured lawns of the magnificent Raj Bhavan, and then rush to watch 'Agneepath'. More on the movie tomorrow.
Meanwhile... here's saluting India. A great nation. Proud to be Indian.

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“Give peace… and women…. a chance!”

Yoko Ono is one hell of a woman. She has guts. And tenacity. She also has tremendous self-belief. As the loathed and reviled wife (and now, widow) of the legendary John Lennon, Yoko has been accused of many ‘crimes’. But I think, her biggest one (according to critics) is that she has refused to buckle under, and disappear quietly into the woodwork. The feisty ‘protest artist’ as she describes herself, is in India to woo and perhaps celebrate the women of this country with a show aptly titled, “Our Beautiful Daughters”. In a free wheeling interview to a daily, Yoko Ono spoke engagingly and passionately about her concerns, making several references to her late husband’s immortal anthem which featured the inspiring lyrics that urged each and every one of us to ‘make the world a better place.’ Yoko insists she has been doing her best to take that theme forward. But the most telling quote in the interview stated, “ The whole world is starting to realize that it was the most unwise thing to have ignored woman-power, to run societies with male priorities.” Yoko articulated what millions of women across the globe deeply believe in, but cannot articulate as lucidly. Yoko also clarified she was never a flag waving activist for women’s rights. She said she had spent her entire life merely being herself, which automatically meant ‘promoting women’. As an avant- garde conceptual and performance artist, Yoko has invariably and inventively tested the limits, challenged stereotypes and broken rules. Unfortunately, the international art world has stubbornly refused to take her seriously.Ditto for the music world. If anything, Yoko has been consistently snubbed by the art elite, most of who happen to be men, as she herself dryly pointed out. But instead of retreating hurt and spewing bile, Yoko has soldiered on, undertaking high risk projects that have generated controversy and comment, but rarely any appreciation.
Women like Yoko Ono almost always generate hostile responses since they cannot be placed inside a neatly labeled box. When she married the man who was acknowledged as ‘the most talented Beatle’, she got savaged in print by John Lennon’s besotted fans that saw her as a weird outsider, a control freak, a gold digger. The fact her husband respected and trusted her, did not count for much. After his brutal murder, she was expected to lie low or preferably, disappear altogether.But she wisely refused to walk away from her husband’s mighty legacy. Against tremendous odds, she hung in there and faced the barrage of anti-feelings that confronted her each time she was seen in public. Her ‘protests’ were viewed as stunts and gimmicks. Her public rebellion was dubbed suspect. And her appropriating John’s persona was called cold blooded and opportunistic. Yoko became the official ‘Evil Witch from the East.’ And even today, so many years later, she remains a persona non-grata in snooty circles.
Women in India are far more open minded and accepting of people like Yoko Ono. She says she has been welcomed and greeted by so many intelligent and beautiful women from the Indian art world. This is an accurate and reassuring observation. Yoko Ono is not perceived as a ‘threat’ by anybody in this part of the world. In America, her Japanese identity may have been held against her. Fans of the Beatles continue to blame Yoko for the split, and she is still made to answer for that high profile break up of the group. Had she conformed to the assigned role and behaved like a groupie (which is what most wives of famous musicians turn into), maybe she wouldn’t have generated so much heat. But Yoko Ono it was who persuaded her husband to pose naked with her for the jacket of their album. And it was Yoko again who defiantly sat next to her husband, holding hands, during their first trip to India. This was at a spiritual retreat in Rishikesh where men and women were segregated and made to sit separately. Expecting Yoko to be a good girl and behave herself was never a part of the plan! Thank God she didn’t disappoint anyone. Let’s wait and see what Yoko does on her second trip to India! Let’s hope she manages to generate shock and awe this time round as well.

My 'Saafa' moment in Jaipur.....

2012-01-23T22:14:00.008+05:30

Since there is a charming comment on the 'saafa' in my friend Meenal Baghel's lively 'Mumbai Mirror' today, I thought it a good plan to share images with my blogdosts. Alas, there were no jewels on the turban, just a 'Penguin 25 Years' tin badge pinned on it! It is a terrific time to be a Penguin. And I am indeed exceedingly loyal to the imprint that has given me so much over those very 25 years that we are celebrating this year, with a series of exciting events. I wish I could have carried my bright and beautiful 'Socialite Bag' that night, but it was swiped! What an imaginative merchandising opportunity. Since 25 authors, along with 25 iconic titles, are being honoured via post cards, mugs and cloth bags, how could I not carry my own one which acknowledges my first ever book, 'Socialite Evenings'? The other bags worth possessing are 'The Bag of Small Things' and 'The Suitable Bag'. No prizes for guessing which fabulous authors inspired those - right???
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This appeared in the Bombay Times today.... fingers crossed the videolink does happen...

Jab Salman gayab ho gaya!

The single most vibrant ‘presence’ at the Jaipur Lit Fest was of someone who wasn’t there! Had Salman Rushdie really shown up, I’m certain he’d have overshadowed Oprah Winfrey. Thousands of Salman supporters were hoping against all odds that Rushdie would defy conventional wisdom and turn up at Diggi Palace. I guess the ‘cooked up’ death threats took care of that key decision, leaving the Talk Show Queen to hog the limelight minus any competition. Since Salman has indeed become the cause celebre of this annual Carnival ( Literary Kumbh Mela), the issues raised by his absence have hi-jacked the Festival itself. Nobody could have anticipated this dramatic turn of events, least of all, the organizers who had invited Salman in good faith. The debate will continue long after the Festival ends , and the Jaipur Lit Fest 2012, will be remembered for all the wrong reasons. Salman will become the literary martyr who was ‘lied to’, and other authors who boldly read passages from the banned ‘Satanic Verses’, will get their muted wah wahs for ‘showing guts’. At least one of them , managed to flee to Bangkok fearing arrest. So much for ‘guts’. The others quickly packed their bags and left town. Salman Rushdie ‘Superstar’ will undoubtedly eat out on the story at other international Lit Fests, and everybody will eventually forget that the entire controversy was manufactured by politicians to serve their own purpose. The big question to ask is : will protesting writers boycott the Festival next year ? No chance! It has grown into such an attractive monster, most hungry writers would prefer to be devoured and consumed by it…. rather than be ignored and left out! But the ghost of Salman Rushdie will haunt the venue for years to come.

The Big 'O' moment with Mumbai cops...

2012-01-22T23:06:00.002+05:30

Blogdosts, I got back from the Jaipur Lit Fest late this evening. And no, I didn't attend THE session of the Fest - the one that led to a near stampede. People started to pour into the Diggi Palace grounds at 7 a.m. to grab their seats for the Oprah interaction ( she refused to take questions from the audience). By 10 a.m. all approach roads were sealed! I hear Oprah was at her scintillating best. And Barkha Dutt did a brilliant job of interviewing her. But I am a little puzzled - did Oprah really say, "This is my first and last trip to India?" to another journo? I had met Barkha at the totally amazing Penguin party the night before and asked her to throw that question to Oprah. Apparently, Oprah told Barkha she wants to come back to India again and again and again! So, honey.... which one is it??? Never again? Or again and again?
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This appeared in the Sunday Times today...

The Big ‘O’ leaves Mumbai cops cold!
Oprah spontaneously mopped the brow of a profusely sweating waiter with a napkin she’d grabbed from his tray… and followed that up with a warm hug. Onlookers thought the overwhelmed young man would faint there and then! He didn’t, but it was easy to conclude the magical ‘Oprah Effect’ had effortlessly claimed another lifelong fan! Her presence is indeed so powerful, so magnetic, it’s impossible not to get instantly drawn to her. It’s equally impossible not to blabber inanities, gush embarrassingly, take pictures, and generally carry on in a cringe-making manner that would shame teenage fans at a rock concert.Everyone wants a piece of Oprah. And here’s the surprising bit – Oprah wants a piece of everyone! It is this single and unique quality to engage with a complete stranger and make that person feel like family, that is the key to Oprah’s phenomenal global success.She calls herself ‘Everywoman’. But she is actually ‘Everyperson’. She doesn’t have to work the room. The room walks up to her. And when she throws back her head to laugh at yet another clumsy compliment, her laughter is genuine. Having got the gooey stuff out of the way, it’s time to get down to brass tacks. What exactly is Oprah doing in India (it’s her first trip, and it sure has taken her years to make it). Bluntly stated :She’s here to make money.Tap new markets. Recast herself in a brand new show titled Oprah’s Next Chapter.There’s a huge, immensely profitable constituency waiting to be exploited.She said she was planning a five hour special on the country. That’s a lot of footage. Television is a ravenously hungry beast. To feed five hours of crackling programming, Oprah would need ten times as much material. No dearth of that in our land. Especially for a really smart and extraordinarily dynamic businessperson who heads the world’s rich list for women. It is evident from her high energy levels that never seem to flag, that Oprah works 24x7. It’s a relentless pace , but as she put it, it’s love that keeps her going. Love for what she does. And she does that superbly well - better than any other tv personality on earth. Does she never tire of meeting people and hearing the same old, recycled, trite reactions? Never, she exclaims dramatically, adding, “It’s a new person every time.” Her delivery of the simplest lines is so emphatic and convincing, it does not encourage contradiction. Her own clichés (about the ‘great Indian family’, and how happy the poor in India are) expectedly, went unchallenged.
As Mumbai’s Most Wonderful swirled around the world’s most charismatic woman, frequently tripping over their vertiginous stilettos… and words… Oprah did not miss a trick.She took it all in, listening keenly, watching closely, absorbing, making mental notes. Occasionally, she called the attention of her minders and managers, while her competent crew filmed away.From Bollywood stars to Indian billionaires, they were happy to be in Oprah’s court.Mumbai did go unabashedly gaga over Winfrey! She looked at the sea of fashionistas clad in all-black and commented, “I was planning to wear black myself, but was told women don’t wear black in India.” Oh-oh. One factoid wrong! There goes the head of at least one researcher! She was also informed that unlike Tom Cruise whose handlers had to hire crowds when he arrived in Mumbai to promote his latest film, she was by far a bigger draw.Ouch! It was Tom who had ludicrously jumped up and down on Oprah’s couch to declare his love for Katie - making the cut as an unforgettable ‘Oprah Moment’! From a swishy soiree one glorious night, hosted by Parmeshwar Godrej at her magnificent seaside villa , to a walkabout through a sprawling slum the next day, Oprah sure had the taste of real Mumbai. But apart from the super celebrities of the city who glided up in droves to welcome Oprah, she also had the chance to encounter Mumbai’s asli bosses – our diligent cops! It was their moment to shine as they remained unimpressed and unmoved by the momentous occasion or the mega celebrity in their midst.There they were, pointedly standing their ground and refusing to budge from the beach where a stage had been erected for a performance in Oprah’s honour. Rules are rules, they insisted as they broke up the glamourous party after commenting dismissively, “ Yeh Oprah-Woprah kaun hai?”
Let’s call that a reality check. Knowing Oprah, she must have been amused…. and impressed! Perhaps it marked a first for a lady who we all believe has done it all and seen it all. At least, she’ll never forget Mumbai no matter where she goes in the world. Our adorable Pandu Havaldars have ensured just that!

2012-01-18T13:56:00.001+05:30

http://in.omg.yahoo.com/photos/oprah-drapes-sari-to-meet-ash-beti-b-1326785991-slideshow/oprah-bash-photo-1326788685.html

Opr-aaaaah!

2012-01-17T22:51:00.002+05:30

Met the most famous woman in the world at a smashing dinner party last night. Oprah Winfrey is all that she's cracked up to be - warm, engaging, human, witty.... AND a thorough professional. She is never off the job, even when she is being charming and sociable. Her mind is switched on even in her sleep - I'm sure. When she speaks to you, she is speaking to YOU! HER ATTENTION DOES NOT WAVER FOR A MICRO-SECOND.SHE IS ALL YOURS! Apart from the media frenzy that blocked the road leading up to the spectacular Godrej Villa, where India's supreme hostess Parmeshwar Godrej presided over a gathering of the mightiest and glitziest ( movie stars, tycoons) it was the near hysterical reaction of jaded, seasoned socialites falling over themselves, tripping over flowing gowns and sky high heels to pay homage to the empress of talk shows, that came as a bit of a shock. Did I have my 'Oprah moment'? Helllll, ya! Am I telling? Naaah.It was way too personal. Way too special.
I'm hoping to meet her again in Jaipur at the jewel of a Lit Fest that kicks off over the weekend. I'm there as a proud 'Penguin'. 25 years of Penguin Books in India is an impressive landmark. And for me, it's doubly meaningful, having been with the imprint from the very beginning. To mark the occasion, Penguin is re-issuing Popular Penguins - 25 of their most important titles. I am honoured and proud to have one of mine ("Starry Nights") included. It's a fabulous list - from M.K. Gandhi to Vikram Seth. From Jawaharlal Nehru to Arundhati Roy!
Congratulations, Penguin!!! Let the celebrations begin!!
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This appeared in Bombay Times today...

All the world’s their stage…

I have a sneaking admiration for committed theatrewallas. God knows how they do it… memorise dialogues running into pages and pages, rehearse endlessly for weeks, and finally go up on stage to perform in front of strangers they can make eye contact with. No retakes. No special effects. No 3-D gimmicks. No editing. If they goof up, they goof up. There’s no one around to yell, ‘cut’. There are no vanity vans on standby. And more often than not, there’s no money to be made for all that effort. It’s gotta be love! That much was pretty evident at the packed performance of Anish Trivedi’s ‘Famous Last Words’. A small, tight cast, ably helmed by the ravishing Dipika Roy ( who has also directed the comedy-thriller), kept the audience amused and tickled by their wonderful rapport and terrific sense of timing. It’s a slim and slight play which is fortunately devoid of any fake flourishes (‘Waiting for Godot’ gets its share of swipes and is described as ‘pretentious crap’). Anish, who plays a fading writer declared dead by his divorced wife ( too complicated to explain why in this space), boldly does a Salman Khan by going shirtless in a couple of scenes (“I’m half- naked in the play,” he’d stated recently, and got asked, “…. but, which half?”) Mercifully, he does not do a Ranbir Kapoor and drop his towel , which is just as well. The last time a stage actor flashed his buns on a Mumbai stage was over 30 years ago when Kabir Bedi opened Alyque Padamsee’s ‘Tughlaq’ dressed in nothing more modest than a bright red langot. In “Famous…” it is really Sahil Jaffrey, the fresh faced actor playing Ryan, who steals the show with his effortless, goofy portrayal of a flunkie. And, of course, there’s Amrita Puri, who adds angelic oomph to her Tanya by delivering yet another wide-eyed ingénue, babe-in-the-woods performance (the ‘Gujju from Gamdevi” as Sandy tartly describes her) . Dipika’s interpretation of Sandy, an ‘over- the- hill harridan’ is at once arch, cunning, sharp and sexy. But more than all of the above, what appealed to me the most was the way the credits listed out the contributions made by a host of people . This is a true mom-and-pop show, involving not just Dipika’s husband Bharat ( official photographer), daughter Ariana ( production assistant?), but also their domestic staff, drivers, and peons. Anish’s wife, Vineeta is billed as the costume designer (perhaps, it was she who persuaded Anish to let the towel stay in place?) What a lovely way to promote genuine inclusiveness and get everybody involved in this intimate enterprise. The only family member missing from the long list was Golly, the Kewalramanis’ handsome black Labrador. I am registering a strong protest on Golly’s behalf! Woof! Woof!
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Leonardo Di Caprio has been singularly unlucky when it comes to winning an Oscar after being nominated thrice. But if he is bypassed yet again this year after delivering a stupendous performance as J.Edgar Hoover, it will be a real shame. Clint Eastwood’s documentary style movie about the man who worked under eight American Presidents as the feared and loathed FBI Director for 37 long years (1935-1972), is not a brilliant film (in fact, it’s pretty boring). But Leo is brilliant. So is Judi Dench who plays his mother.The film would have worked better as a gay love story ( very powerful and moving) between Hoover and his long time Deputy, Clyde Tolson. But Eastwood preferred to make it a dull political biopic instead. Ah well… who cares, if Leo does win the elusive statuette he so richly deserves.

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The Fabulous Five - Hot List 2012!

2012-01-15T22:16:00.005+05:30

Blogdosts, I have been very naughty this year. I skipped the Dream Run and sent off my two daughters to sweat it out on my behalf. I know I missed out. But there were reasons. Valid reasons. However, I am happy to report I raised a respectable amount of money for CHILDLINE, enough to qualify as a Dream Merchant. The girls felt exhilarated after clocking in decent timings respectively. Later, they met up with a REAL Marathoner, Siddhartha Mallya , who had successfully completed the 42 km run. They've been friends since they were kids... and they are so proud of Siddhartha's achievement. So am I!
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This appears in the latest issue of 'Hello'.

The Fabulous Five:Hot List 2012

Kicking off the list is an unlikely, low-key, virtually unknown individual called Cyrus Mistry. As recently as six months ago, most people would have looked totally puzzled and asked, “Cyrus…. who?” Today, the world of international big business is falling over backwards to get to know the man hand picked by Ratan Tata as his successor.This unassuming 43-year-old is perhaps the most-watched corporate honcho on the sub-continent at present . And why not!Brand Tata is valued at a staggering $50 billion.But more than the valuation, taking forward the mighty Tata legacy itself will pose the single biggest challenge to Mistry. As the son of a billionaire father ( Shapoorji Pallonji Mistry), Cyrus is no stranger to the world of immense wealth and power.And yet, it’s easy to miss this non-descript family man, even in a small crowd. I observed with some amount of amusement as Mumbai’s socialites clamoured to get introduced to him at a glamourous soiree recently. There was Cyrus, hanging around casually in an over-sized black shirt hanging over jeans, as assorted wannabes lined up to shake hands with the Crown Prince of the Tata Empire!
That brings us to the Princess of India, the charming and cheerful Priyanka Gandhi. Here’s a young woman who cannot escape her destiny. A destiny so loaded, it is at once scary and scintillating. Try as she might, Sonia Gandhi’s daughter will not be able to fight the magnetic pull of politics in 2012. There are murmurs and whispers galore doing the rounds in Delhi that Priyanka has already taken on her mother’s mantle and is being groomed for the same position (Party President). If this is being kept under wraps for now, it is with good reason. Politics is all about timing. With a huge question mark over Sonia Gandhi’s fragile health, Priyanka’s official entry will have to be perfectly calibrated. Chances are, Priyanka, and not brother Rahul ,will prove to be the real game changer in the run up to the elections. The battered and tattered Congress Party is banking on Priyanka to salvage what’s left of its prestige. Will Priyanka prove to be the lucky talisman? The verdict seems to be a big ‘Yes’! From her mother’s campaign manager in 2004, to her mother’s successor in 2012, Priyanka’s role was pre-written in her womb, as it were. “People are a strong pull, not politics,” she once famously stated. Well, by assuming her fated role, Priyanka will get her myriad admirers to chorus, “You’ve made the right choice, baby!”
Virendra Sehwag stole Sachin Tendulkar’s thunder on the 8th of December 2011, by becoming the highest individual scorer in an ODI match against the West Indies, thus propelling him into a league of his own. As a holder of multiple records, Viru , as he’s affectionately called, has had an extraordinary innings as a top order batsman known world wide for his right arm off break and his special ability to hit one boundary after another. An interesting factoid about this modest sportsman is his vegetarianism that has inspired a vegetarian restaurant aptly called Sehwag’s. His maiden venture may soon grow into an international chain given the glow of success he’s basking in right now. Married in 2004, at a wedding hosted by Arun Jaitley, the chunky cricketer nicknamed the ‘ Nawab of Najafgarh’ (his hometown) has a gigantic fan following of true blue cricket lovers across the world. 2012 may see this triple century man, create still more records.Clearly, the old order has to yield place to new…. about time, too.
From the world of fashion, I have my money on the Man from Nagaland – Atsu Sekhose. Not only is he talented and well-trained ( NIFT Delhi), but he has apprenticed with Tarun Tahiliani before branching out on his own. As a young designer from the North East, Atsu is proud of his roots and happy to flaunt them! Even though his design sensibility remains international and subdued, his ethnic identity, evident in his craftsmanship and individuality cannot be questioned. Bold enough to back the North East Fashion Weekend in an attempt to focus on craft legacies from a neglected region, Atsu has found several high profile supporters for his wearable, stylish clothes.To call him a ‘Rising Star’ will not do justice to his growing reputation. There is an enormous amount of originality and a painstaking attention to detail that define his collections. 2012 should see Atsu right up there with the best in India. That is, if he isn’t snapped up by an international fashion house before we can say, ‘ruffles’. If that does indeed happen ( he richly deserves a global platform), he will join the likes of Manish Arora and Bibhu Mohapatra who are making an impact on catwalks across fashion capitals of the world.
Nargis Fakhri has two choices ahead of her. She could fade away as the flavour of the season after her debut film (“Rockstar”). Or she could stick it out and take over from Katrina Kaif eventually. Tenacity, grit and ambition count for a lot in Bollywood. Katrina sensibly banked on all three during her arduous journey to the top. Yes, it is a cruel and competitive business. Does Nargis have it in her to hang in there, work hard – bloody hard – and succeed? If she follows Katrina’s example, and conquers exactly the same drawbacks Kat faced when she entered Bollywood ( language and nationality issues), Nargis would do exceedingly well. She has the freshness and beauty of a young Manisha Koirala , and the sex appeal of an international star, to win over this generation of fans ck of those Botox Beauties dominating Bollywood well past their ‘sell by’ date. Does this American product born to a Czech mother and Pakistani father, have what it takes to rock Bollywood?Definitely. But getting to know a certain Salman better, would fast-track her career. That’s for sure!

2012: The year of the heroine as 'hero'!

2012-01-13T18:00:00.002+05:30

Yet another Marathon is upon us. But I sense a chill in the air. and it has little to do with the mercury being substantially lower than is normal at this time of the year. Like with most 'events', Mumbai once again displayed how fickle-minded it is. The Mumbai Marathon has lost its original glam quotient and the 'kya kool hai hum' set has moved on to other thrills. No matter, the act of giving has not been totally forgotten. Though, I do find it strange that after so much effort and bandobast, all this super rich city can contribute is a measly 12.5 crores to various causes. That is chicken feed! But at least our Sealink will get its due footage. And Milind Soman will once again demonstrate his awesome fitness levels. Now we know what exactly Bipasha finds attractive in her boyfriends, past, present and future... stamina.
Bhago , Mumbai, Bhago!!!
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This appeared in Hi! Blitz!

2011: The Year of the ‘Heroine’ as ‘Hero’….?

“Vidya Balan is the real hero in Bollywood.” The first time I read that remark, I seriously thought it came from a bitchy rival. This was just after critics had finished going gaga over ‘Dirty Vidya’ and the impressive box office figures of her latest movie had started to come in. But no! It was a genuine, if back- handed compliment from an industry source and seen in the right context, it also made perfect sense. Vidya carried ‘Dirty Picture’ on her hefty shoulders, all by herself. When was the last time a Bollywood heroine managed such a feat? Even the multi-faceted Priyanka Chopra delivered a dud with ‘Saat Khoon Maaf’. And she had seven men to prop up the film. Vidya had a senior citizen ( Naseeruddin Shah doing a brilliant take off on Sivaji Ganesan) as a co-star. I am not counting Emraan Hashmi ( blink and he was gone!). It was Vidya’s show all the way.Ekta Kapoor and Milan Luthria had conspired brilliantly to get the maximum mileage out of their co-operative heroine. Maximum exposure , too. And Vidya, clever girl that she undoubtedly is, went along gamely, perhaps realizing that this would be her unchallenged hour of triumph. And such a woman-centric film would possibly not come her way again. It was a brave call to take for all three. For, had it backfired, not only would Ekta have lost money, but Milan and Vidya would have lost face. And perhaps, a rosy future in Bollywood, too.
Whatever happened to woman-oriented movies like ‘Sujata’, ‘Bandini’, ‘Charulata’,
“Seeta aur Geeta’ ‘Bandit Queen’ ? Considering the vintage of those classics, it is fair to say, we have moved several steps backwards in Bollywood. This is ironical, given all the big talk about women’s empowerment and how lucky we are to be living in this day and age in which women are calling the shots. If that truly was the reality, why would we be celebrating the success of a solitary film that revolves around a Southern porn-star named Silk, who’s the central character of ‘Dirty Picture’?Why would we be making such a big deal out of Vidya – undoubtedly, a superb actress ? Are we desperately searching for the next Smita Patil? Or even the next Tabu? That is the opinion of a top female star I got chatting with right after the success of ‘Dirty Picture’. Said this luscious star somewhat tartly, “Well… Vidya had nothing to lose. But those of us who are in the big league would never touch such a role.” I asked her to name the others she considers her big league equals and she giggled, “You know… all of us… Katrina, Priyanka, Bebo, Aishwarya.” And that puts Vidya…. errr, exactly where? The actress paused before saying sweetly, “Vidya is not a star. She maybe looking to become the next Tabu. Matlab, a thinking actress. We prefer to be stars and divas.That’s the only way to grab all the top endorsements.” Aha – so, that’s what it is. Career decisions are no longer about scripts and roles. They are about the ads that follow a commercial hit. Fair enough. It is the girls stuck in between who are finding the going tough – girls like Kangana, Sonakshi, Anoushka, who are neither here nor there, but latko-ing in between. I remember running into Kangana at a really posh event, where she was looking rather lost even though she was dressed by a top designer brand. She looked around boredly and commented, “I look so much better than some of the actresses who bag big brands. Why do you think those people don’t approach me?” I summoned a top photographer and asked him to explain. After all, he was the one who recommended stars to those international brands. He told Kangana bluntly that her image was all wrong! I was taken back. What was so wrong about it? Before it got more detailed, I changed the subject. What if this happens to Vidya? Her film is a huge hit, and the producers are over the moon , but Vidya’s uninhibited performance ( with all that tongue rolling, lip biting, jiggling and wiggling), is likely to impact her positioning. It will be interesting to monitor how it goes from here. Either, she could zoom to the top of the heap and take on all those smug and snooty actresses on her own terms, or be happy doing the odd strong role that showcases her talent and allows her to shine. But the more important question is: how will Vidya cope with our top heroes with their fragile egoes? Which one of them will have the himmat to act opposite her and risk being overshadowed? Frankly, I cannot think of even one. Is Vidya the Meryl Streep of India? A fearless actress who goes where others refuse to tread? Streep is likely to walk away with the most prestigious acting awards for her portrayal as Maggie Thatcher in ‘The Lady’. Balan as Silk will certainly be the top contender here in India . But which award will she walk away with – Best Heroine? Or, Best Hero?? Watch out, everyone!

Sunny (Leone) days are here again!

2012-01-11T12:50:00.002+05:30

Blogdosts, I wrote this before an honourable judge decided to defend this gutsy gal in public and urged fellow Indians not to let her torrid past affect their attitude towards her new life in India. I like this guy already!!!!
Meanwhile, I found myself defending Salman Rushdie's right to be at the Jaipur Lit Fest. Mind you, that's different from defending Rushdie himself ( not that he needs me as his spokesperson). On one such panel discussion, a particularly rabid person got very personal and antagonistic towards me...but when that happens, it is best to refocus on the issue and ignore the baiter.I'll be at the Jaipur Lit Fest myself... and so will Rushdie. Inshallah!

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This appeared in The Week....

Sunny days are here again…

Over the New Year weekend which we spent at our farm house with family and a few close friends, an unlikely name kept popping up in casual conversations – Sunny Leone’s. Sunny , who? Sunny,what? Surprisingly, it was the men in the group who hadn’t heard of Sunny! Perhaps that had to do with their vintage and the fact they weren’t the audience for a reality show called Bigg Boss. But when they were told that a full- fledged, self- declared porn star was in the house, they suddenly perked up and asked for the television set to be switched on. As it happened, we caught Leone’s ouster , as well as a repeat telecast where she was playing coy during a rain dance.The men couldn’t understand what the fuss was about. Imagine the irony of it all – starting a brand new year discussing the life of a woman who has made a name for herself acting in euphemistically titled ‘adult’ films!
Why not? Her presence in the show had initially sent shock waves across India. And the debate at the time was mainly about underage viewers innocently surfing the net to know more about the latest entrant into a show that has a huge fan base cutting across age and cultural differences. According to one of our guests, searching for Leone on the net comes with its own risks as video after explicit video gets thrown up, showing Sunny doing what she, err, does best. Let’s leave it at that. These very graphic clips demonstrate the lady’s extraordinary skills and leave nothing to the imagination. If anything, they astonish viewers. Should such a person be invited on to a show that is designed for family viewing? Has Sunny’s presence in Bigg Boss acted as an endorsement for porn shows? Are kids getting unknowingly exposed to highly objectionable sexual content involving unnatural acts, multiple partners, permutations and combinations that are considered kinky, even violent? Apparently, this has indeed been the fall out of Sunny’s presence on the show , and parents are not amused. Her managers have been accused of using Bigg Boss to promote her own adult website and capitalize on the publicity generated.
Let’s face it, Sunny Leone is a hard core ( pardon the pun) professional. She was invited to be a part of Bigg Boss. She was paid ‘bigg’ bucks for it. This was just the sort of business opportunity her managers were looking for. India represents one of the world’s fastest growing markets for porn. She has been upfront and unapologetic about her choice of career. As a Canada–based performer born to Indian parents, her public life is there for global voyeurs to gasp at. She was here to market herself and further her ambitions. Her business plan cannot be faulted. So far, she has been offered a Bollywood film by Mahesh Bhatt. More movies may be in the offing. Perhaps, she’ll be back in the house for the grand finale. Her next few moves( on her web site , in particular!) will be closely watched. Like several other business people, Sunny is happily cashing in on the ‘Go East!’ advice. This is where… ummm… the action is. This is also where tolerance still exists in abundance! India remains the ultimate paradox. While K.K. Seetamma, head of the sexual harassment panel at Bangalore University, is busy trying to implement a ‘saris only’ rule in his state, elsewhere, a porn star is accepted with a philosophical shrug and minus too much of a fuss (“A gal’s gotta do what a gal’s gotta do”). It is only here that Veena Malik, a Pakistani actress, can allegedly pose nude for an adult magazine cover shoot and elicit a tepid reaction from both sides of the border. On one level, we are becoming blasé and shock proof, on another, there’s a misguided attempt to cover up women, in the name of protecting them! Why not ask men to behave themselves or face prosecution instead, Mr. Seetamma? Would men respond differently to Sunny Leone today if she adhered to the ‘long sleeved blouses with modest sarees’ dress code? Would incidents of rape come down (as Mr. Seetamma insists), if women stopped ‘tempting’ men by wearing ‘obscene clothes’? Will desi bachchas become porn addicts after watching Sunny at work? Elsewhere in the world porn stars contest elections. Here we have Sunny pouting like a babe in the woods and accusing her Bigg Boss co-contestant Amar Upadhyay of violating her modesty while performing an assigned task. She primly reminded viewers that Amar was a ‘married man with kids’! And she herself a ‘married woman’. That is so cute!
2012 sounds like a promising year. And Sunny days are here again to brighten our dull lives! Yenjoy!

We need better 'players'..... kyon?

2012-01-09T16:58:00.002+05:30

Utterly dull monday... but what beautiful light! And delightful weather! The shawls are out. And trust our Bollywood hotties to climb into heavy duty boots as soon as the mercury dips a little! I hear Delhi socialites are draped in fur, like they'd need to be if they were in Moscow or Helsinki. It's a lovely feeling to shiver a little in Mumbai and get those light Pashmina stoles out of mothballs.My desire to devour hot gajjar halwa is overwhelming! But I'll happily settle for the yummy fresh cream and strawberries cake they serve at 'Wasabi' for special occasions. My daughter Anandita tells me the high tea at the Sea Lounge is exceptionally good, too. Sigh! Toujour Taj Memories!

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This appeared in Bombay Times today...

When one watches crores of rupees being blown up in clumsy action scenes as cars pile up on cars, and random bombs go off in the distance, it is time to pick up the carton of half -eaten pop corn and beat a hasty retreat from the cinema hall. Never waste good popcorn. Even more importantly, never waste precious time. I am a great one for self-punishment and have happily subjected myself to far worse films than a turkey like ‘Players’. Let’s just put it down to new year fatigue and a growing intolerance for waste on all levels, but I really couldn’t stand this three hour punishment which relied on a Johnny Lever to resolve its mighty crisis.That’s called ‘desperate’. ‘Players’ made me wonder what makes veteran movie makers back something as ridiculous and as nonsensically OTT as this remake, which totally lacks any cinematic coherence. ‘Players’ literally goes all over the place – from New Zealand to Moscow. But for what ? The motley cast changes costumes and sleepwalks through what is meant to be a super slick effort revolving around an ambitious heist. Which desi chor would undertake a mission this impossible ( stealing tons of gold from a train that’s en route to Romania from Russia)? And this bunch looks not just hopelessly amateurish, inept and unintelligent, but manages to generate misplaced laughter during key scenes. One just hopes no self respecting Russian watches the movie. It could lead to Putin launching a full scale attack on us just to let our audiences know what happens when a Russian general loses his cool ( he definitely does not start stripping off his clothes and singing ‘Mera Joota Hai Japani’, as the joker in a cheap pink satin shirt does in ‘Players’). But yes, I can see the sternest Russian melting into a puddle at the sight of a sizzling Bipasha performing an item song in a tacky bar. Yup. It’s as easy as that. Bips as a seductress is more lethal than a guided missile, and perhaps our own Ministry of External Affairs should consider hiring her services to sort out India’s myriad problems.
To make up for the torture I had subjected myself to, I went and watched ‘Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy…” Let me just say, I regained my sanity, as well as my faith in movies. Despite mixed reviews to this cold war spy thriller, I found myself at the edge of the seat ( popcorn ko maaro goli!), not wanting to miss even a single line of dialogue , or visual clue. After a long time, I actually found God in the details – and what details! Every meticulously constructed, brilliantly lit scene revealed subtle props that were certainly not there by accident. For a movie in which the script is so finely calibrated, and the dialogue as economical, the challenge is to not blink! Or lose focus even for a micro -second! It was a good way to handle a post-New Year’s Eve condition. I recommend ‘TTSS’ over tomato juice to anybody looking for a quick fix to a hangover. Watch it attentively – you’ll sober up instantly. As for ‘Players’, sorry, even if you go to a theatre fully tanked up, you still won’t be able to sit through it!

When India shrugs and moves on...

2012-01-08T20:30:00.002+05:30

It has been a beautiful Sunday - cool, clear, glorious all the way. I'm looking forward to meeting my neighbours at an elegantly put together annual dinner on the extensive lawns downstairs. I hope they're serving Bellinis ( my current obsession!). The year has started on a delightfully high note and my children have made me feel beyond wonderful. This can be scary ! Three guesses for figuring out why!!! Come on, guys. You can do it!!
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This appeared in Sunday Times this morning.

When India shrugs and moves on….

I’d sent out my usual, cheery New Year greetings to friends and family last week, jauntily describing 2012 as ‘the year of ‘Hope and Optimism.’ Most recipients responded enthusiastically and echoed the sentiment.But one person differed vehemently - my Italian publisher. He asked in his toota-phoota English, “What is there to be optimistic and hopeful about? Italy is sinking.” Hai, bechara! So true. Fortunately, India remains pretty buoyant. So,perhaps, we could start feeling a little better about ourselves and stop the self-flagellation. Positive thinking has its uses. And now is the time to get out of the ‘we are such losers’ groove, crank up our flagging spirits and get on with it. To those who insist nothing is going right ( cricket! Corruption! Prices!), let’s concentrate on a few things that are (food inflation, for example).On so many levels, last year was a defining one. Apart from the Anna-factor, that briefly galvanized the nation, the fact that so many biggies were marched off to the clink, made the average citizen lull himself into believing in justice and the power of public opinion. That is a fantastic development in a country that had virtually surrendered to terminal cynicism and permanent resignation. We had all but stopped believing in our own strengths as a democracy, which is bolstered by a billion-plus free voices.
Today, those voices are busy testing their own range. If they do get amplified, 2012 may yet see a fresh demonstration of people power. Blood has been tasted. And the aam aadmi is thirsting for more. Unfortunately, our attention spans are a bit too short. We expect instant results. When those don’t happen,we shrug and move on. As in the case of Anna and his aborted movement. A movement that lost its momentum and got derailed before critical mass could be reached.Even skeptics like myself, were somewhat disappointed by how swiftly ardent supporters abandoned Anna and went back to waiting in the wings for the next Superman to show up and save them. Talking to young people, their disenchantment with Anna - the God Who Failed - revealed their deep-seated frustration and angst. Worse, it reflected their abject apathy. Unlike the young and the restless across the world, who took it upon themselves to fight for change and freedom, in India we expected someone else to do the dirty work for us. Lighting candles, signing petitions, marching and fasting to express solidarity for a cause, was one thing. Putting oneself on the line, giving up privileges, facing arrest and generally being pro-active, quite another. As of now, students seem to be waiting for some sort of divine sign at the beginning of 2012. Aware that Anna may be too frail to take the dream of a corruption-free India forward, they have pinned their hopes on a new messiah emerging from the shadows and leading them into an era that spells ‘clean’ in capital letters.What if such an individual fails to show up? What if, we slide back still further?
The single biggest disillusionment of 2011, was the handling of the Lokpal Bill by our worthy parliamentarians. It now appears as if there was zero intention of the Bill getting through from the word go. All that drama was just that – a cleverly scripted production to try and convince citizens that the worthies meant business. It was such a shrewd, vile and deceptive move, it almost fooled the unwary (who closely followed the live debate) into believing the UPA was sincere, and the BJP, perverse, even obstructionist. For all the gullible public knows, this could well have been a part of a master plan, that allowed both factions to fake heated exchanges, hurl accusations ( reality television at its most dangerous!) and engineer a deadlock. What a brilliant strategy, if true. Kya ‘setting’ kiya, boss! For once, politicians and bureaucrats were united in their objectives. Which one of them could possibly want a clean up of the system? Is there any political party in India that can afford close scrutiny? Which neta is mad enough to want transparency and accountability in public life? Scuttling the Lokpal Bill while pretending to get it through , was an act of genius. Whatever we are witnessing today ( BJP appealing to the Prez to reconvene a Lokpal session) is nothing but an eyewash. There are far too many skeletons rattling around in cupboards across party lines and all over the country. As a futuristic scenario, another forty years of debating the merits of the Bill suits everyone splendidly. By then, Anna’s original supporters will be in their sixties and seventies. And the new generation of netas will still be talking pointlessly about ‘‘subversion of parliamentary democracy.”
Where are the real ‘Players’ when we need them the most to pull off an authentic Italian… oops, Indian job?

Anna:From King Kong to Mickey Mouse...

2012-01-03T21:50:00.001+05:30

This appeared in the Asian Age on Saturday...

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Anna : From King Kong to Mickey Mouse.
One thing was proved in 2011 : India needs better laundries. And dhobis. All our dirty linen was right there for the world to see. And no amount of Robin Blue could white- wash our soiled international reputation as one scam after another hit the headlines. The stains were of the permanent kind, unfortunately. Like leaked ink on pristine white school uniforms. Obstinate and indelible. Despite this far- from- pretty picture, there was a silver lining, too. As citizens reeled from one scandal after another, there was also a sense of something major, something positive, taking place under the grimy exterior. Finally, the C-word was out in the public domain. Corruption not just defined the dirty doings on parade in 2011, but it also became the centerpiece of an overdue national awakening. India desperately needed a symbol, a catalyst, a change agent. And that responsibility fell squarely on the frail shoulders of just one person – a 74- year- old man called Anna Hazare. Anna came out of virtually nowhere, and became an unlikely, overnight folk hero, capable of generating mass hysteria. Everybody suddenly wanted to ‘be Anna’ not just support him. Anna appropriated this monumental, moral responsibility (I would like to believe it was by design and not through default), and kick- started an aggressive anti-corruption campaign on a brilliant note. What happened subsequently, will need years of decoding by historians. But what cannot be denied is that a man, who started off as King Kong, ended the year as Mickey Mouse.
Where did India’s Saviour go wrong? Oh… there will be books devoted to that in the future, I’m sure. But I’d say, Anna slipped up when he stepped off the dusty highway of social activism, and stepped on to a lofty pedestal. Anna failed the day he started to play Gandhi-2. The 21st century Mahatma. There are no second acts in history. There are only pretenders and wannabes. Mahatma Gandhi’s struggle took 30 long years before it succeeded. It was a strategic battle fought against foreign rulers. Anna and his misguided team treated their agitation like a cup of instant coffee. Get the mix and temperature right, whip up some foam. Voila! It’s done. Perhaps, carried away by the first wave of spontaneous euphoria, Team Anna sensed victory in the offing. The ‘brains’ decided to scale up the protests. In the bargain, the tone got shriller and shriller. And minor characters began to overshadow the star – Anna. References to the ‘Second Freedom Struggle’, did nothing to tone down the tenor of the andolan. Prompting critics to snigger, “What’s needed is a third Freedom Struggle - to free poor Anna from the clutches of the coterie.” With Anna more or less marginalized and the coterie hogging centre stage, it was already a doomed strategy that would eventually derail the agitation. The worst fallout of the Flop Show was the sense of disillusionment it generated in the hearts and minds of young Indians, whose hopes were pinned exclusively on Anna. When their Messiah faltered and failed, they turned away feeling cheated and let down. I’d say, the ‘dirtiest’ picture of 2011, was that of the half-empty MMRDA grounds in Mumbai. That single image signified the anti-climactic end to what could have been a passionate, inclusive movement which could have transformed India – not overnight. But over time.
We lost an invaluable advantage. We lost the momentum. We also lost the plot! Chances are , India may have to wait for another decade or more for the next Anna Hazare. Whoever that person turns to be, let’s hope it’s a better team he or she picks. Though we aren’t back to square one yet, the scenario is looking pretty grim. Politicians have won a key round by stone walling the Bill yet again. And cynicism has replaced idealism. Questions and debates revolving around a ‘stronger’ Lokpal Bill are likely to remain unresolved, unanswered. For the rather obvious truth is that nobody wants it! Least of all the political class. Forget Anna’s version of the Jan Lokpal Bill (uncompromising and unrealistic), but even a Lokpal Bill with more teeth than the one under scrutiny, will be played like a ping- pong ball in the days ahead. Technicalities and alibis will be trotted out to ensure there is a stalemate. Citizens will be palmed off with the standard excuse: ‘This is how things work in a democracy. The parliament is supreme’. More dirty pictures of rowdy parliamentarians will hog prime time on television, as hyper-ventilating anchors ‘demand answers” (but from whom, beta?). In all the ensuing confusion, the aam aadmi will meekly go back to doing what he does best – minding his own business and getting on with life. This is the exact and shrewd calculation our netas are banking on – wear down the believers. Distract them. Confuse citizens. Soon, they’ll tire, and forget there was someone called Anna Hazare.
Poor Anna. For all his flawed vision and obduracy, he meant well. He fasted. He suffered. There was nothing fake about any of that.Which is precisely why he touched so many hearts. Those same hearts are broken today. Does Anna have the will or even the desire to reconnect with his original , impassioned war against rampant corruption? Or has he switched sides and become a politician himself? Instead of campaigning against a political party and thereby denigrating himself, Anna should consider withdrawing from his spot under the bright glare of lights, and introspecting. Away from his minders. Away from the media. Away from sycophants. Perhaps he’ll get an answer to what he and his countrymen are looking for – how to effectively tackle the monster called ‘Corruption’. And when lightning does strike, I’m confident Anna will be good enough to share his homegrown wisdom with the waiting world. The unprecedented success of a movie called ‘The Dirty Picture’ proved one thing : Indians have come of age and can handle, ummm… dirt. In all its forms. Let’s hope 2012 will be India’s ‘Ooh La La’ moment. It’s time for the world’s hottest item girl to graduate and become a full fledged heroine.
Happy New Year, readers!

2012: The Year of Hope and Optimism!

2012-01-02T20:28:00.002+05:30

Happy 2012, Blogdosts!! Let's keep this space lively, interactive, honest and FUN! I hope you had a great start to a brand new year. I certainly did! I hope to keep the same spirit going all through the next 12 months. One thing I do know - if you feel good, you LOOK good! So, here's to terrific beginnings... your time starts NOW!
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This appeared in Bombay Times today...

2012 : The Year of Hope and Optimism…

Happy New Year, readers! I wonder how many of you are able to focus this morning and read this?For those who are indeed cold sober, beady eyed and bushy tailed, my special congratulations. Today is the first day of a brand new year.And I get the distinct feeling 2012 is likely to be upbeat and positive, give or take a few hiccups.Let’s not go into rewind mode and spoil our mood over what happened and what didn’t in 2011. It’s over. And good riddance, too. I’d say the best fallout of the past year was the clarion call to citizens given by a 74 year- old -man who became an unlikely youth icon - Anna Hazare. Never mind that his Mumbai show ended not with a bang but a whimper. He did perform a very important role despite all the bungling and mismanagement. He gave something precious to the aam aadmi – a voice. What we do with our newly discovered larynx is up to us from this point on. We don’t need Anna to fast. We don’t need him to hold our hand, either. We just need to make ourselves heard.
Two young men are going to be watched very carefully indeed in 2012. Both have had leadership thrust on them. One is still an unknown entity. The other was born famous. But both have one thing in common: monumental responsibility. And of course, both are the ‘Anointed Ones’. Cyrus Mistry and Rahul Gandhi are likely to be the most scrutinised, most searched 40- somethings in India. As heirs to vast empires ( Tata’s, and India), on them are pinned the hopes and aspirations of a billion-plus Indians. As Tata followers frequently boast, “ The state of India is often judged by the state of the Tata companies!” Both men are inheritors of staggering legacies. History will definitely judge these two. How they perform in 2012 will be monitored with hawk-like precision by the world, not just India. Rahul has had a head start in public life , virtually from his cradle. Cyrus has preferred to live more privately and well below the radar. The mentors of both are towering personalities – Sonia Gandhi and Ratan Tata. But eventually, the buck stops with Rahul and Cyrus. Will they deliver?
In movies and cricket, it is time for the established superstars to show some grace and move on. Leave it to the youngsters. How long are you chaps going to hang on to your thrones and crowns? Fans of both are clamouring for excitement and change. Viewer fatigue has set in. If Sachin does not get that blessed century in 2012, the sky will not fall down. If SRK does not wipe the floor with the competition, it won’t lead to a national calamity.Ditto, for all those lambey race ke ghodey who have outlived their relevance in other fields but are stubbornly hanging in there, clinging on desperately to the status quo. Whether in cricket, politics, movies or business, 2012 is going to see immense churning and change. Yes, it’s going to be that sort of a year. How do I know? Shall we put it down to a woman’s intuition??
Here’s to a super sexy, spectacular and surprising New Year ! Party on…. the night is going to stay young throughout 2012. Kasam se!

Lokpal Lives!!!!

2011-12-28T11:28:00.002+05:30

Ooooof! Bit of a relief.... bit of an anti-climax. Lokpal lives! Between the fiery Sushma S and the erudite Pranab M , viewers witnessed Parliamentary proceedings at their volatile best. A reality show on 'democracy at work'. Splendid! No matter what the political ramifications and implications, at this point, it's all good. A big, historic step... no, LEAP, forward in the right direction. Time for Team Anna to take a breather and let the poor man eat!
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This appeared in The Week...

Santa Baby…. hurry down the chimney…

I think of Marilyn Monroe every X’Mas. Why her? Oh, for a whole host of reasons. I’m thinking of her again as I write this.Her breathless, little girl voice is ringing in my ears as she warbles, “Santa Baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight…” There is so much pathos in the way she sings… and to think the world mistook it for sexiness! Pathos defined the life of a woman known for her curves and little else. Perhaps nobody will ever figure out what she felt about her body, her sexuality. Or even why she had to die so early. The mystery around Marilyn Monroe’s extraordinary life and tragic death will haunt fans for generations, but it is also the same mystery that has made her a legend. It is said, there can be just one M.M. – the ultimate fantasy- woman. The greatest sex symbol ever. One wonders, given the chance to be herself, stripped of all that glamour and clamour, what would Marilyn have asked from Santa? More diamonds( she did sing a song about diamonds being a girl’s best friends!)? More money, fame, furs, fans? Or just more love? Genuine, unselfish love? What would any woman want from Santa today? Pretty much the same thing – love. Or am I being totally naïve? I decided to ask a few accomplished young women I know. ‘Make a wish list for Santa,’ I urged. And they did just that. Were there several common factors… or none? Had they pegged their expectations a bit too high? Did they even know what they wanted? The not-so-surprising answer is that most of them were clear-sighted and practical when they stated their desires. Like poor Marilyn, who instinctively knew the true worth of diamonds ( nothing but glittering rocks , if they didn’t come with a life time guarantee of love),most of these urban ladies rated that four- letter word (love) as priority number one in their lives. Next was security – financial and emotional. Then came the twist – they wanted Santa to ensure their physical safety. Now we were talking!
Strange that today’s far more empowered woman is feeling insecure about her personal safety. On the streets, at the work place, even in her own home! In an age when there are so many women in the work force across India, one would have imagined they were in a position to take care of themselves. Not so. Single women in particular expressed their fears on several fronts. Getting decent accommodation was just one of them. Most landlords were either unwilling to rent out their place to women or downright hostile towards them.Working women felt they were unnecessarily placed under scanners and regarded with suspicion while their male counterparts didn’t have to undergo any such scrutiny or humiliation. Santa needs to seriously look into housing issues for career gals. On a lighter note, women are begging of Santa to send a few good men their way. “Do they not exist?” a woman moaned. She was an attractive, educated and ambitious woman, at that. Another said she wouldn’t put extra pressure on Santa, knowing it’s unfair, adding, “Poor Santa… how many good men can he locate and stuff inside those stockings? Let’s face it, there is a worldwide shortage here.” Children featured high on the list - with or without a marriage certificate attached . “I want to be a mother – not a wife,” stated one woman firmly. Others agreed. Another one wondered whether a “Three year itch” was justified, since her marriage had hit a serious downer after the birth of her first child. Was she asking Santa to produce a lover? “Why not? I am depressed and bored,” she shrugged. Other items on the list were easier for Santa to deliver. More Botox. Slimmer hips. Fuller lips. Magic pills to lose weight.And – get this – a stronger sex drive. Yup. Today’s over worked woman has no time for sex. And in any case, is much too exhausted to indulge enthusiastically in any such activity (“I prefer hot yoga”). Goodies of the material kind? Those came lower down in the list. I get the feeling Marilyn would have approved of this shift – from diamonds to detoxing ones mind, body and soul. Santa sure has some heavy duty tasks ahead of him.
As for what men want this X’Mas - isn’t it always the same thing? And what would that be? I’m not telling! Your guess is as good as mine. Hint: it’s a 3 –letter word.
Merry X’Mas, readers. And a spectacular 2012!

Good Guy Vs.Bad Guy - who wins?

2011-12-27T11:53:00.003+05:30

The Anna Show rides into town. Please eat, na? Why send the nation on a guilt trip? New Year revellers are in 'Khao, peeyo, mauj karo' mode. Khaali peeli party pooper kaiko banna ??

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This appeared in Bombay Times today...

Good Guy Vs. Bad Guy… who wins??

“Kuch na kaho… kuch bhi na kaho!” What lyrics! What a song! Am seriously thinking of adopting it as an anthem for 2012. For there are times when silence speaks far more powerfully than words. And a ‘Mission’ gets ‘Accomplished’ without collateral damage taking place. But it’s still worth comparing and contrasting the styles of two big stars who have so much riding on them - one in Hollywood , the other in Bollywood. Tom Cruise and Shah Rukh Khan are eerily similar. Almost like twins separated at birth. Both are on top of their respective games while being closer to 50 than 40. Short, slim, compact and with prominent noses and great hair. Neither man qualifies as ‘handsome’ in the conventional sense. Both are family men with attractive wives…. no major scandals.And both are good actors – when they actually allow themselves to act. Given their phenomenal global fame, success and iconic status, they no longer need to act. That is, act as anything but themselves. Tom is Tom, SRK is SRK.Whether playing Ethan Hunt or Don, the men remain the same. One can predict the next smirk, crinkling of the eyes, lop-sided grin, creasing of the forehead, you name it, and it’s trotted out as if on cue. The hair looks great even if a nuclear device goes straight through it. And the chicks don’t stand a chance. Perhaps that’s what their die hard fans expect and want. But what about the rest? Sorry, but both guys have done themselves in with their predictability and programmed mannerisms. Considering this season’s two biggest hits ( yes, they are money spinners) depended so heavily on Brand Cruise and Brand SRK to propel them at the box office, look at what happens when a movie invests almost solely in star power and pays little attention to other factors. Like script,dialogue,background score, co-stars, logic,plausibility… a story! ‘Ghost Protocol’ boasts of heart-stopping action in the first half. I thought I was going to faint during the Dubai segment.Having visited the Burj Khalifa last month and suffered a serious bout of vertigo at ‘Atmosphere’, the super sexy bar on the 123rd floor, watching Cruise crawl up the sides of that 8th Wonder of the World was way too much for my tension levels. If only the movie had stopped right there! Post-interval it toppled over and collapsed into the desert sand with some maudlin’ rubbish about Ethan’s dead wife not being dead after all. Like anybody cared.
At least DON-2 didn’t fall into that trap. If anything, the pace picked up after the interval and the maara maari was better choreographed. What was seriously missing in both movies was oomph. Sex appeal.Glamour.One could understand Anil Kapoor’s unbelievably silly two minute role and forgive him for not taking it seriously. I mean… who could get turned on by Ms. Patton? The best desi scene in ‘Mission’ was the one where a silver tray loaded with an array of mobile phones is presented to Kapoor playing a media tycoon with a rogue satellite . For all those wondering whether we really do have local tycoons whose valets bring them silver salvers bearing multiple phones… ummmm, the answer is ‘yes’! Don’t laugh. It happens.If Ms. Patton failed to turn up the heat,poor Priyanka Chopra, far from being a ‘jungli billee’ plays a severe cop (dressed like a call centre girl). Nothing she could do with stilted dialogues like, “Whaaaat ?” “Dammit!” and “S**t !”What a waste of a sexy gal. And when she does get to wear a hot designer gown and dance, it is an awkward waltz she performs. A waltz? In Berlin? Were they thinking Vienna?? Ms. Patton knocks out silly Anil Kapoor and leaves him to snore after hissing, “Soh Jao.” Good advice for the audience as well!
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The Festive Season kicked off with Deepak and Smita Parekh’s smashing traditional X’Mas brunch ( a ‘strawberries and cream’ theme this year).It was the men who stuck to the dress code and turned up clad in pink! As for the turnout, it would be easier to list who wasn’t there sipping champagne and schmoozing with India’s Most Amazing. Going by the buoyant mood, I’d say we can all relax. The Sensex ain’t going anywhere but up from this point on.How do I know? I read Deepak’s lips, and they clearly said, “ No more taxes!” Hahaha !

Santa Sonia Vs. Saint Anna

2011-12-25T20:16:00.002+05:30

MERRY X'MAS BLOGDOSTS!!
I've enjoyed a really terrific one this year. As I hope you have, too! Watched Don-2 last night. Check out this space on Tuesday for more!
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Santa Sonia Vs. Saint Anna….

Merry X’Mas, readers. What a strange season to be jolly and go ‘ho ho ho’! If we are looking for fireworks on New Year’s Eve, we’ll get them! But for now, let’s see what Santa Sonia has lined up for us in her bag of goodies. Oooops! Isn’t her customary Santa sack really tiny?More like a knapsack than a bulging- with- gifts bag one associates with a generous, large- hearted Mother X’Mas . Let’s blame it on global recession. Santa has had to tighten that belt, and slow down the sleigh. Even the poor reindeer looked lean and hungry this year. Why blame Santa Sonia? In any case, what Santa Sonia needs to pull out of that sack is a jumbo sized fire extinguisher to put out all those fires. It has been a pretty lousy year, duniya ke liye. And by the time 2011 finally comes to an end, perhaps our overcrowded jails will be overflowing - Saint Anna is at it again. And while he limbers up for yet another fast, the flock is getting impatient. Unfortunately, the Lokpal ‘Bill’-ing and cooing marathon has hit a roadblock. If Team Anna’s actual intention was to bring down the government, that hasn’t happened so far. Santa Sonia’s reindeer (read: Pranab,Digvijay and Manmohan) are going to find it tough to drag that sled over this hurdle. Most chimneys and choolahs in India have remained unused in 2011, thanks to the ridiculously high food prices. If Santa Sonia wants to bring a smile to people’s faces, she’d better pull out some loaves .Santa can’t afford to adopt the cavalier ‘Let them eat cake’ approach this time. Somehow, a ‘Cake, Kapda aur Makaan’ slogan doesn’t sound right. The natives are definitely restless, and it’s no use offering cupcakes and hot cross buns, when there is no daal-roti in the kitchen. Kharcha is on everybody’s mind, far more than an abstraction called ‘corruption’. If Santa Sonia takes up Saint Anna’s challenge to engage in a public debate (what’s the bet it will not happen?), at least the faithful will know the true position of her government. As of now, there is full on confusion, where the last person whose interests are supposedly being protected is the citizen.No jingle bells for the aam aadmi, alas. And zero governance for the country.
Young people are dying to ‘bharo’ those jails and sport trendy ‘I am Anna’ topis. That’s youth. Give them hope, package it well, arouse their sentiments, allow them to believe change is in their hands, and they’ll be prepared to fast, march, light candles, shout slogans, throw stones, take to the streets, even lay down their lives. It is a phenomenon the world has witnessed over and over again. It is this very idealism, trust and naivete that leaders capitalize on and exploit. If we are indeed heading for an ‘Indian Summer’, it will be fired up twenty-somethings who will act as the drivers. But drivers for what?Against whom? We are being brainwashed into believing this agitation is about rooting out corruption. And the only way to get that done is to push Saint Anna’s Bill through parliament without altering a comma. No matter how well intentioned his version of the Lokpal Bill maybe, this is not the right tareeka in a democracy. Nor can it work in real terms. As has been pointed out by several political analysts, checks and balances already exist in our system. It is the implementation that fails. Either we shall have to start building hundreds of new jails, or construct gigantic camps in order to accommodate all the crooks who will hopefully be exposed and punished once Saint Anna succeeds in his mission. At present, we are stuck between a rock and a hard place. Team Anna has described the freshly tabled Lokpal Bill as ‘anti-people’ and ‘dangerous’. Team Sonia calls it ‘strong’. A new twist ( minority quota) is being viewed as an unpleasant political game being played by the Congress for electoral benefits in 140 Muslim-dominated assembly constituencies. Which takes us right back to square one.
X’Mas is a good time to reflect and rethink. We are on the brink of a modern day battle of Kurukshetra. Except that this one will be fought electronically over social networking platforms. Words and ideas will be the weapons of mass destruction. It’s all about numbers and public opinion. A timely tweet can change history. Beware! The writing is on the wall, guys. And it is exactly 140 characters long.

Jingle Bells!

2011-12-21T14:02:00.002+05:30

Spent a lively afternoon at Mood Indigo, billed as the world's largest youth festival. Held at the sprawling Powai campus, it was easy to fool myself I was anywhere but in Mumbai! The panel discussion was on Media Ethics and Censorship. Hmmmm. Some tough questions from the audience. Anything less would have been a disappointment~
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This appeared in Bombay Times on monday...

Jingle Bells!

Is X’Mas in the air? You tell me! Going by the December heat, it’s pretty hard to believe we are in the last few days of 2011. And as always, everybody is sighing and saying, " God! Can’t believe how fast this year has flown by…” Well, it’s been a comme- si- comme- ca year, with more ‘goodbyes’ than ‘hellos’ to mark it. Far too many legends passed away – starting with M.F. Husain and Jehangir Sabavala.These two stalwarts were the first to go, followed by Gautam Rajadhyakha, Bhupen Hazarika, Shammi Kapoor, Mansur Ali Khan Pataudi, Dev Anand and Mario Miranda. I am holding my breath and hoping we don’t receive more tragic news before the year is finally over. But at least there were two brand new celeb arrivals to cheer us up – Bitiya B, and Azad. The arrival of Aishwarya Rai Bachchan’s daughter was perhaps the most anticipated birth announcement ever. Aamir Khan and Kiran Rao’s little boy arrived with less fanfare but an equal amount of joy. More star babies are in the offing – Lara Dutta’s and Shilpa Shetty’s ,at last count.
The biggest surprise package (googly!) of the year turned out to be Vidya Balan, whose performance as Silk in ‘Dirty Picture’ set not just screens but collective male imagination on fire. As a mass circulated text message succinctly put it, “Critics’ verdict for ‘Dirty Picture’? Blouse-full!” Another one recommended a Best Supporting Role award for Balan’s white bra! Sandwiched between all these naughty jokes was Balan’s bindaas, uninhibited performance that won her widespread praise, not just from fans but from her own fraternity. ‘Vidya is the only hero in Bollywood’, it was dramatically declared. The statement did not go down particularly well with the male megalomaniacs in the business. Especially with those superstars who were still sulking over their own lackluster box office showings. Who would have thought a modestly budgeted movie about a dead porn star from the South, would lead to such hysteria? And who could have predicted the madness generated by a nonsensical, tuneless song that went viral? Not only has ‘Kolaveri Di’ wiped the floor with far more established competition, it has triggered off an unprecedented wave of really clever versions in countless languages. My personal favourites are the Panju and Gujju attempts. I hear the Japanese one is pretty good, too. As is the Chipmunks’ number. The Harvinder ( ‘Thappad Sardar’) Singh send-up is also excellent. With this one freak internet video hit, a semi-unknown guy has become a national figure overnight. Take a bow, Dhanush! The stupendous success of Balan and Kolaveri Di, proves just one thing: If you have it and are willing to boldly flaunt it, there are countless enthusiastic takers out there. But … you’ve got to have it in the first place. There is no explanation, no logic behind the unbelievable success of either Balan as Silk, or Dhanush and Kolaveri Di. When something goes viral, it goes viral! That’s it! No manipulation required. It is obvious we really adore our homegrown folk heroes. For all their international status and fame, a Lady Gaga leaves most Indians cold, and cannot match Vidya’s sizzle. And even a Tom Cruise needs hired fans when he comes to India, while Anil Kapoor walks away with all the attention! Ajeeb? Not really. Let’s call it confidence. We don’t need imports when our own ‘products’ are world class. Why not indulge in some chest thumping and plain jingoism as another year comes to a close?Sentimentality rocks!

Why this,why this... Fast-u, Kolaveri Di...

2011-12-18T16:00:00.002+05:30

This appeared in the Asian Age....

Why this, why this … Fast-u, Kolaveri Di

As this dramatic year rolls to an end, I’m asking myself a searching question:To fast, or not to fast. My body says it’s a great idea and long overdue. My clothes are saying the same thing.Especially the skinny jeans. I find it extremely difficult to fast, which is one of the reasons I avoid any blood test that requires me to starve for twelve hours before the needle prick. But ‘The Fast’ phenomenon has really taken off and 2011 will be remembered as the Year of the Fast. At least, in India. Women in our society have always used fasting as an effective form of protest.Particularly women who live in joint families. Going without food is the ultimate form of sulking. For one, it is designed to make the mother-in-law look really, really bad. And two, it is a pretty smart way of grabbing the husband’s attention.Food makes for a really lethal weapon if used well against an adversary. But there is also something known as overdoing a good thing. Just as a magician loses an audience if he repeats the same trick over and over again, a person who resorts to frequent fasts in order to make a point, risks losing his or her credibility/ constituency. Anna is just this side of the divide right now. He could have achieved the same objective ( pushing his Jan Lokpal version through ) without the fast. People are now beginning to groan and say, “Oh no! Not another fast, Anna. Get over it!” Anna’s well-wishers have warned everybody about the downside to Anna going on a fast at his age. If fasting is indeed hazardous to Anna’s health, why do it? This fast business has gone well beyond symbolism or even tokenism. Anna’s latest fast ki dhamki ( starting in Mumbai on the 27th) threatens to become a parody of itself.The first time he did it, people wanted to know how long he’d be able to go without food before collapsing. It became a bit of a voyeuristic exercise. A little like going to a circus and watching a tight rope walker, half-expecting the person to fall, and feeling a little disappointed when that doesn’t happen. A well meaning advisor should inform Anna that today, the story is different and people are beginning to snigger. The average citizen admires Anna – no two ways about it. But even his most ardent admirers are questioning the wisdom behind undertaking one more fast. When that stage is reached, a protest becomes counter productive and loses its original appeal. Imagine an item girl with a huge recent hit deciding to go for the kill with another hot number. There can be no repeats of Munni or Sheila . Impact ka sawaal hai, bhai. Basic marketing gyan. Anna’s fasts are rapidly losing their novelty value. His minders must come up with a fresh idea.The fast has had its day …
Since TIME magazine has shrewdly skipped picking a known individual as the ‘Person of the Year’ and decided to give that honour to an anonymous protester ( someone who resembles a woman… is sufficiently androgynous, and therefore, guaranteed to bag a few extra brownie points), several Anna supporters have been devastated. It was being floated in the media that Anna would make it to the much awaited TIME cover as ‘Man of the Year’. Now we discover poor Anna didn’t make it even to the short list, which featured Kate Middleton, if you please!But the Chinese must be rejoicing over the exclusion of dissident artist Ai Weiwei, who came in at number 3. Had Anna made it to the cover, it would have served as a gigantic boost to his cause. As of now, Anna himself sounds a little disoriented as he issues all kinds of statements, taking on the holiest of the holy cows in India ( read: Sonia). Anna’s critics insist he is being spoon-fed by his team.There is also widespread belief that the tempo will be stepped up closer to the date ( 27th December), and Anna will boldly venture into territories others justifiably fear. The thinking behind this is pretty obvious. Anna’s public support makes him an untouchable. Nobody will dare move against Anna. He will remain above and beyond arrest, no matter what he says in front of television cameras. With Anna enjoying such a privileged status, it is inevitable that he will be urged to articulate a few home truths that can badly hurt those in high places (the highest!). At the moment, Anna enjoys total immunity and taking a panga with him is considered bad news.
The year ender from TIME, is an eagerly awaited global event. There have been several ‘misses’ in the recent past, including the issue with Barack Obama as ‘The Person of the Year’ (2008) . Had he been given the honour this year after finishing off Osama Bin Laden ( though Admiral William McRaven, head of US Special Operations Command and overall commander of the secret al Qaeda mission into Pakistan, did come in at the number 2 position in the nominations), nobody would have raised objections. But… imaginatively and rightfully, it was The Protester who won hands down. Anna’s fans need not despair. Anna is going to win practically every version of the Indian of the Year award. Anna is the face of protest for over a billion people. Even if Anna does not fully succeed in starting an unstoppable war against corruption and the corrupt, he will have reserved his place in history. But beyond that, he would also have won the gratitude of a nation fatigued and frustrated by the cancer of corruption that has corroded India. Has the tipping point been reached? We’ll know on the 27th. Till then, let us chorus, ‘Why this… why this… fast-u, kolaveri di?”

When all else fails, try sequels!

2011-12-16T12:18:00.002+05:30

I am off to Pune for the weekend. Since Mumbai's elusive 'winter'( ha!) has done the disappearing act so far, I'm hoping for at least a respectable nip in the air during my short stay at one of my all-time favourite cities.More on my return...

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This appeared in 'Hi! Blitz!"

When all else fails, try sequels!

Had Manmohan Desai been alive today, I would have requested him to make a sequel to his superhit movie, ‘Amar,Akbar,Anthony’. Sequels are the flavour of the season.Everone is making one! When all other ideas dry up, announce a sequel. But the case of ‘AAA’ is significantly different. It is an iconic movie, like ‘Sholay’. A re-make with a twist would be so apt… and so much fun! My suggestion is slightly hat ke. I would love to see a female version with three top heroines playing those madcap roles – Kareena Kapoor,Katrina Kaif and Priyanka Chopra . The film could be titled, ‘‘ Aru,Asmi,Amanda,” and their romantic partners could be unknown hunks looking for a break ( since no self- respecting actor takes on sidey roles). Unfortunately, such a project will never get off the ground, since desi producers are of the firm belief there is no audience for full on,female-centric films.Bollywood is mard-driven. It’s one of those quirky beliefs. Television soaps thrive on women.Bollywood movies, on testosterone. Heroes call the shots in tinseltown, always have, always will. And there it remains. Actresses earn a fraction of the fees made by their co-stars. Even those fees hinge on which hero agrees to work with them. Weird but true. Weirder, but equally true, is the fate of top female politicians. The three women chief ministers India is currently dealing with - Mamata Banerjee (‘Didi’), Jayalalitha (‘Amma’) and Mayawati (‘ Behenji’), could also feature in ‘Amar,Akbar,Anthony’. They have star value and all three are single ( an enormous advantage, even a prerequisite for heroines). But as in Bollywood, so also in politics, these power ladies cannot pull it off on their own. What is interesting is the way we have converted the three of them into our ‘relatives’ – two ‘sisters’ and a ‘mother’. By co-opting them as family members, we have placed them in elevated positions that come with a great deal of emotional and moral responsibility. How can older sisters and a mother let us down? Conversely, how can we show disrespect to women from our own family - even if the same women behave in a despotic, high- handed way? Didi was recently dubbed a ‘fascist’ by the legendary writer, Mahashweta Devi. Enough is known about Behenji’s tyrannical ways ( she thinks nothing of slapping senior male bureaucrats in public). As for Amma – God help you if you annoy this autocrat ( Kani realized this a bit late in the day). But we say nothing. They are family!
Strange, in a country where we have very visible, very in your face women leaders in positions of enormous authority ( Meira Kumar, Pratibha Patil, Sonia Gandhi ), when it comes to the real thing, we still fall back on our patriarchal roots. Foreigners are frequently perplexed by these obvious contradictions. The only way to make some sense out of such mixed signals is to confuse foreigners still further by bringing mythology into it and discussing the Goddess Cult. Ditto for Bollywood. Today, the parallels between Bollywood and Politics are something else, particularly with so many women dominating both fields. One just has to look beyond India, to realize what an achievement this is, even if, at present, the numbers have more cosmetic value and less clout than one would expect. In terms of hysterics and histrionics, it’s hard to beat Mamata. She writes her own dialogues and delivers her lines without any retakes. Mayawati is like Gabbar Singh – people from her State, invoke her name to scare children and get them to sleep on time. Amma can take on Mogambo. The day she says (in Tamil, of course) , “Amma Kush hui,” ) , fawning courtiers will let out a collective breath and attack their curd- rice with gusto. With her Mollywood background, Amma understands one basic thing : the medium is the message. She also understands “Lights. Camera. Action.’’ Playing to the galleries comes naturally to her. Voice modulation is her forte. Mamata is out of control, screeching like a banshee – but that too is a carefully thought through performance that wows her jatra-loving constituency. Behenji just has to lift her index finger and point. Khallas. That person is dead meat. She can also swing her handbag ( stuffed with notes) and use it as a ready weapon . Compared to these three ‘Negative Role’ women, our Bollywood girls are pussycats . Bipasha’s biceps threaten no one – not even John. Kangana’s pout ( plump and pumped up) is about as lethal as a blow with a bag of popcorn. Kareena’s eyes can kill with one look, but come on, for all her ‘Chhamak Chhalo-ing’, she is not in the running, having been claimed by Saif years ago. And Katrina is sweeter than a cupcake or a La Duree macaroon… the only thing she can give someone is diabetes. So…how about it, Ketan Desai? ‘Amar,Akbar,Anthony’ ka female sequel ho jaye??

Aamir-Kiran show the way...

2011-12-14T12:45:00.002+05:30

Was shooting with a good crew last afternoon. Sky TV is planning an important series on 'The Great Cities of the World'. Mumbai features as one of them along with Moscow,Rome, London, New York... please note : not a single city in China! The presenter is a distinguished diplomat ( former ambassador to America), and he was back in Mumbai after 25 long years. The other Mumbaikars interviewed are Adi Godrej,Shah Rukh Khan, Nita Ambani, Nirav Modi ( so far ). The idea is for Christopher ( the presenter) to see a city through the eyes of people who live and work there, and in a way, define the city.I was flattered to be included. So far, it has been a happy experience for the team. On their wish list? Raj Thackeray! Let's see if that interview takes place. If it does, I hope Raj sticks to Marathi.
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This appeared in The Week

Aamir-Kiran show the way….

It’s amazing how Aamir Khan gets it right over and over again. Not just with his career in which he reigns as India’s number one actor ( other Khans come and go, playing yo-yo with the top slot). But off-screen as well. Aamir’s reel and real life have fused seamlessly, especially after his second marriage to the cerebral and immensely likeable Kiran Rao. Their recent joint announcement about the arrival of a baby boy was greeted with uniform joy across the country. Not just because they were blessed by their first child ( Aamir is the father of three kids, two from an earlier marriage, and one with a British journalist), but the fact that this one was carried by a surrogate mother. And the proud biological parents (Aamir-Kiran) had zero hang -ups about going public with the information. Bravo! By doing that, they automatically diffused any speculation, besides sending out a strong message to our conservative society that surrogacy is a perfectly acceptable option for childless couples in the 21st century. In one stroke, Aamir and Kiran established their own credentials as progressive, modern people willing to go the extra mile to have a child of their own. Surrogacy remains a comparatively new field in India. And yet, there are thousands of childless couples longing to become parents. Due to ignorance, embarrassment and fear (“What will people say?”), most don’t take advantage of the dramatic breakthroughs that facilitate having ones own baby, thanks to IVF (In Vitro Fertilisation). As Dr. Firuza Parikh, Director of Reproduction and Genetics at a reputed Mumbai Hospital explained, “Kiran had a uterine factor which caused her difficulty in conceiving. Hence we recommended IVF surrogacy to her.” Aamir’s detailed press release expanded this information further by reminding fans that Kiran’s earlier miscarriage had left both of them distraught and disappointed. He wrote,“ This baby is very dear to us because he was born after a long wait and some difficulty due to medical reasons.” When was the last time you heard such straight talk from a superstar?
Surrogacy is a complex issue with several ramifications, including legal ones. Potential parents are required to understand the long term implications of the decision before they participate in this programme. For example, apart from privacy issues, there is the financial obligation that is at the core of the arrangement. What happens if the couple divorces before the baby is born, or dies in an accident? Is the surrogate mother left holding a baby that is technically not her own? Since surrogacy depends on a contract between the parties involved, it is not as easy as merely ‘hiring a womb’. There are clauses in place that aim to protect the baby’s interests, along with the surrogate mother’s. While in India, such contracts are recognized via ‘national guidelines’ drawn by the ICMR, there are no stipulations for the violations of the contract. Most times, it is a woman from an underprivileged background who agrees to carry someone else’s baby for a generous fee. This is where the terrain gets tricky. There have been reported cases of poverty-stricken women agreeing to ‘host’ babies of foreigners who are citizens of countries which insist on far greater scrutiny before giving the green signal for surrogacy.
Despite these reservations, it is commendable that Aamir and Kiran have chosen to share their experience with fans. To call Aamir’s child a ‘poster boy’ for surrogacy (as some doctors have done), is to trivialize the issue and ‘sell’ surrogacy across the board. When we talk of ‘greater social acceptance’ of the procedure, it is important to qualify that remark some more. Like adoption, surrogacy too, requires a great deal of deep thought combined with a life long commitment to the innocent baby a couple brings home. The IVF procedure has provided untold happiness to countless childless couples who were at a dead end. Aamir and Kiran are responsible, informed and financially secure parents. Other couples are not as fortunate. What Aamir and Kiran have achieved is to break through age old taboos about fertility and a woman’s right to go ahead and take advantage of what science has to offer. In a country steeped in superstition, Aamir and Kiran have displayed admirable boldness that must be acknowledged. Aamir has thanked the Almighty and said they were “humbled by the greatness of God, the miracle of science….” To that, it’s worth adding the gratitude of innumerable despairing couples who may now explore the possibilities open to them to bring their own little bundles of joy home.This is star power at its positive best. Here’s wishing the proud parents and their little boy all the happiness in the world.

Krass Karl!

2011-12-13T15:07:00.002+05:30

Perhaps I am over reacting... but I think not! When a top international fashion designer informs the world press that he finds Indian poverty 'chic', it's time to slap the guy! In any case, Chanel's latest Paris-Mumbai Collection is derivative and passe. If our ladies want to wear angarkhas and anarkalis, with gigantic maang tikkas, why would they go to Karl? We have our own amazing designers and jewellers who do a far better and certainly more authentic job of our traditional wear.I am inspired to design a 'Les Miserables' line as a response to the falling euro,
myself!
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This appears in Bombay Times today...

Un-Klassy Karl needs a reality check!

It’s all about the context (Kontext?). And a vexing language issue. When the iconic fashion designer Karl Lagerfeld, made that preposterous comment on India’s poverty ‘being chic’, one wonders what he’d been smoking when he said that? As one of the most powerful people in the rarefied world of international fashion, surely the venerated senior designer could have given better thought to his callous remark. It doesn’t get any ‘posher’ than Chanel. Let us assume Karl was paying a tribute to India. But the bottom line remains the same - he was actually trying to sell more frocks. Pricey frocks. India-inspired frocks. Period. Where does poverty come into it? Karl’s haute couture gowns come with price tags that could possibly feed an entire Indian village for a month or more . His latest collection is opulent as opulent can be. But, ummmm, I can’t recall the last time I spotted a poor Indian loaded with so much jewellery. This particular collection had Karl’s lissome models walking around with elaborate ‘maang tikkas’ and exaggeratedly large Polki-studded neck pieces . The show was staged in a grand salon with glittering chandeliers casting a mellow light over tunics and drapes that our own darzis across India do a far better job of. With all that brocade and lame, the collection was spectacular if unwearable. But clearly, Karl was testing the waters. Who doesn’t want to come to India these days? Europe is largely broke. And all those fashion conscious global ladies who love the luxe life are wondering how they are going to pay for those ridiculously expensive gowns now that the euro looks ready to nosedive further. With a recession that’s imminent, Karl and his friends are going to find the going tough indeed. India beckons! But if this is Karl’s way of wooing Indians, it is likely to backfire. The insensitivity of that casual, throwaway comment has not gone down too well with the desi fashion frat. Poor Karl. What he must have meant is entirely different. Of course, our rich textile and craft traditions are rooted in rural India. Had the couturier said he was ‘inspired’ by our village communities, all would have been forgiven. Monsieur Lagerfeld, hire a good translator, s’il vous plait. Tout suite!
Compare Karl’s inane observation to what our maestro Sabyasachi (“Sabya” to devotees) has achieved in his own inimitable style. Sabya is all set to launch a brand new Khadi line, and another one that’s more of a tribute to the iconic Freida Kahlo. From the time Sabya started his career as a designer, he has stuck to his roots, and celebrated India’s embroideries and weaves in his own unique way. But there is nothing condescending about his vision. Perhaps some desi designer (Manish Arora?) will be in a position to introduce ‘The New Poor’ of Europe to the world and make a strong fashion statement during the Paris Fashion Week next year.Till then, we can assure our gareeb log not to worry. Karl-ji finds them very chic!
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‘Azad’. What a terrific and apt name! Trust Aamir and Kiran to pick an unusual and meaningful name for their newborn son.Don’t we just love it? Welcome to the world Free Spirit!

Kapil Da Jawaab Nahi...

2011-12-11T20:21:00.002+05:30

This appears in the Sunday Times today...

Kapil Da Jawaab Nahi…

Truly, Kapil da jawaab nahi!Someone forgot to tell our Ministerji that all things ‘Dirty’ are totally ‘in’ these days. Ask Vidya ( Ooh-la-la Balan), who has successfully challenged a hypocritical, prudish nation’s antiquated norms on what constitutes ‘dirty’. Vidya ne dhula diya! Does Kapil Sibal not get it? Look at his lousy timing.It is too late to lecture us on what he thinks is morally unacceptable to modern India. The answer is : anything and everything goes these days.When a Minister takes it upon himself to chastise social networking sites that have been going about their business with spectacular success for so long, he is asking for trouble. In a country of a 100 million internet users (the number is likely to jump to 300 million in the next 2 years according to experts), any form of government interference will be energetically and strenuously rejected. What took Kapil Sibal so long to wake up and smell the whiskey? Why was nobody concerned about ‘incendiary’ material or the abuse and misuse of social networking sites before September 5th, which was when Sibal spoke to international internet giants and offered them a crash course in decoding desi sensibilities? There is something pretty disingenuous about the Minister’s concerns. Not only is his timing for the dramatic announcement pretty suspect, it is clearly an over-enthusiastic attempt to please the Head Mistress.Kapil should stop acting like a school boy, a teacher’s pet, a class monitor who’s out to earn extra brownie points.
Nothing but nothing is a ‘secret’ these days. It’s all out there. From a person’s sex life to bank account details. And it is the people who decide what is or is not acceptable. That is how it works. What is the government scared of? Who does Kapil Sibal want to shield? Is it even possible to do that anymore? Social networking sites are independent states unto themselves. People refer to Facebook as one of the world’s most powerful ‘countries’. It has been successfully proven (Arab Spring) that a 140- character tweet can trigger a revolution. Is this what Kapil fears? When an individual or government has nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of, any form of public scrutiny should be welcomed. Politicians constantly talk about transparency and accountability in public life. But it is the same people who panic at the first hint of an expose. Now that pretty much every memo, note, sms,bbm,file and phone conversation is in the public domain and within easy access of an interested party, it is a bit silly to try and ‘protect’ a VVIP, that too, by imposing restrictions on others. Kapil is allergic to the word ‘censorship’. Perhaps he has a better substitute? Unfortunately for the Minister, he completely misread the mood of the people when he broke the bad news about playing Net Nanny. There was widespread outrage across the board and some of it was from unexpected quarters. 94% of people polled on the subject are saying, “Hands off!” Kapil , poor chap, had talked himself into a corner for issuing what is being referred to as the ‘Facebook Fatwa’. He is still there, trying to crawl out.
There have always been regulatory mechanisms in place on the said sites, along with enough checks and balances to filter threats and other material that could cause widespread panic.But these are as good or as bad as people want them to be. Yes, there is abuse on some sites, and there are enough cowards hiding behind a veil of anonymity, who get away with it.I have been at the receiving end of ugly comments and hate mail myself.Despite that,I would still defend the rights of people to use these platforms freely. For every misguided bigot, there are millions of others for whom the freedom of expression is an all-inclusive, priceless gift that is worth fighting for, regardless of the consequences. This freedom is absolute and non-negotiable. It cannot be defined or qualified by politicians, no matter how noble their stated intentions are. In as young a country as ours, it is short sighted to underestimate or talk down to people who are sharp, smart and very savvy.Whether it is Facebook, Twitter or a micro blogging site, just leave it to users to determine what’s kosher and what isn’t. Kapil Sibal needs to listen more, and talk less. Listen to the voices of tomorrow. The same ones applauding the suggestive gyrations of a talented heroine portraying the life of a semi-porn star in ‘Dirty Picture’, this season’s big hit .Nobody has demanded a ban on the film, nor pelted stones on the screen. Kapil ji, India has grown up when nobody was looking!
‘Dirty’ is a state of mind. So is ‘Dangerous’. India can handle both. Dhanyavad!

A real hero never dies....right, Dev Saab?

2011-12-05T11:48:00.002+05:30

This appears in Bombay Times today...

Dev Saab: A real hero never dies

Dev Anand was one of the most ‘life affirming’ individuals in the world. No wonder the ‘Evergreen’ tag was reserved exclusively for him.There was something so endearing about his enthusiasm for life and all the riches it offered, it charmed his harshest critics. Every moment had to be fully lived and was! Dev Saab radiated positivism, and was the original ‘never say die’ person. We expected him to live forever, too. Or at any rate outlive us all. There was no looking back for the man who always insisted it was only the now that mattered and all thoughts had to be focused on the future. He meant it. His hunger for the next big thing was so infectious, nobody had the heart to tell him his kind of movies were totally passe - over twenty years ago. In a brutal and competitive business, people were kind and gentle towards Dev Anand, because there wasn’t a mean bone in his body either. He was a man so entirely self absorbed, so preoccupied by his own persona, to call him delusionary would have been cruel. Jaunty, perennially cheerful, gung-ho and talkative, it was impossible not to love him. His zest for making ‘motion pictures’ ( he never called them ‘movies’) was matched by his insatiable appetite for fame. Disciplined and meticulous, he lived by his own rules, unaware of the time warp he was hopelessly trapped in. It was this touching innocence and exuberance that people found infectious. Dev Saab understood branding and the real meaning of ‘star power’ almost before anybody else. His image was carefully constructed and jealously guarded by him throughout his extraordinary life. From the way he dressed ( layers and layers of clothing, with a bomber jacket, colourful scarves and high collared shirts), to the sound bytes and quotes he eagerly provided, Dev Saab was always on top of his game. The multiple clothes he wore, camouflaged his frail body. The rakish tilt to his head, as he nodded away, became his trademark. Some may have ridiculed his strenuous attempts to hang on to his youth, there were others who genuinely admired the way he refused to give up …. or should we say ‘abdicate’?
The only role Dev Saab ever played was himself. In film after film,fans went to watch Dev Anand, and not the character he was supposed to be portraying. It didn’t matter whether he was a ‘Jewel Thief’ or a ‘Guide’. Nothing changed, except the get up. People of that era called him the Gregory Peck of India. Both men were charismatic, debonair, urbane ‘matinee idols’ whose real love affair was with their image in the mirror.One got the feeling Dev Anand didn’t really care how he’d be remembered. It was too distant and distasteful a thought to the 88-year-old. Death was something that happened to other people. Old people. Dev Anand still had a lot of life ahead of him…. more scripts to write, several ‘motion pictures’ still to shoot, countless nubile starlets to discover. No Sir, you don’t say ‘goodbye’ to someone like Dev Saab. He’d laugh and look over his shoulder to see who you were addressing! Forget all the ‘end of an era’ clichés. Dev Anand must be in heaven, scouting for fresh faces, new concepts, fantastic locations. No, he won’t offer God the lead role.That is reserved for him in perpetuity. It’s true. A real hero never dies. They don’t make them like Dev Anand anymore

Willingdon Warriors....

2011-12-04T22:44:00.002+05:30

This is the winning team at a prestigious Golf tournament at Kandy in Sri Lanka. The Willingdon Warriors walked away with that gorgeous trophy! Guess which one is my son, Aditya in that triumphant group shot??
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Shall post my tribute to Dev Anand tomorrow. But I really can hear him humming 'Gata Rahey Mera Dil' with all the nubile apsaras in Heaven!

Dirty? Or Filthy?Or 'Thanda'? You decide...

2011-12-03T19:00:00.003+05:30

This appeared in the Asian Age today.... reactions mangta! Your mini-reviews welcome!!
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Dirty is as dirty does….

I grew up during ‘dirty-dirty’ times, when if every thought and deed wasn’t clinically sanitized, sterilised and declared ‘clean’ by society at large, it was deemed filthy, depraved,perverted, ‘ghatiya’ and ‘neech’. After watching this year’s hottest and most controversial film at a preview, I confess I remain a little confused, the morning after the night before.Had I watched a 21st century morality tale?Or a clever, manipulative movie that manages to stay a hair’s breadth away from unadulterated porn? What was the film trying to say once the heavy breathing, heaving and shoving got done? Was some ‘statement’ being made? Or was it just ‘entertainment, entertainment, entertainment’ ( an annoying line that gets repeated in the film twice over, in case it was missed the first time) Ekta was looking for? Either way, it doesn’t quite work. For, the most ‘shocking’ aspect of the movie is the absence of a story. Perhaps, there wasn’t too much material to work with. Silk Smitha’s life began and ended a bit too abruptly ( coitus interruptus as a simile wouldn’t be entirely out of place) for a rich narrative to be spun out of the skimpy material available. If the director was out to make some sort of a comment on the hypocritical society of the 70’s and 80’s, he may’ve succeeded to a limited extent.It was indeed a society that thrived on voyeurism in private but condemned sexuality in public. But, unlike his earlier ‘Once upon a time…” which traced the creation and rise of the dreaded gangsters who controlled Mumbai during the same time-frame, ‘Dirty Picture’ looks pretty one dimensional as it tracks the phenomenal if all-too-brief dazzle of a semi-porn ‘Southie’ star, whose thunder thighs spoke a language of their own. If men in the audience masturbated to Silk’s erotic and blatant gyrations way back then, the scenario is entirely different today, when nobody blinks or cares about on screen copulation, frontal nudity, pelvic thrusts, lip locks, off-colour jokes,double entendres, simulated sex and more. In such a blasé scenario, one wonders why a Vidya Balan would want to undertake such a high-risk role at this stage of her career? Kyon, Vidya , kyon?
I have a soft spot for the incredibly talented Balan. I admit feeling highly protective towards her. Not that she needs ‘protection’. She is smart, sensible and sure of herself. So sure as an actor, that she has boldly, even recklessly gone, where her contemporaries wouldn’t dare. God knows what her compulsions were when she signed up for ‘Dirty Picture’. But after seeing nearly all of Vidya ( ummmm… there’s very little left to the imagination) on screen, it makes me wonder whether her courage will be enough to salvage what could follow in this brutal business, where a carefully constructed,fiercely guarded and lovingly nurtured ‘image’ can get battered after a single wrong move.Of course, Vidya had already prepared the ground and broken through the mould with her overtly sensual performance in ‘Ishquiya’. That had won sufficient laurels to establish her credentials as an actor ‘who dares’. But sucking Arshad Warsi’s thumb suggestively in’Ishquiya’ and almost ‘doing it’ with a long, black, snaky whip during a dance sequence in ‘Dirty Picture’, ain’t the same thing, honey! The camera almost violates Vidya’s body, which has been ripened like a plump, juicy peach for the role. It’s the closest anyone has come to believing a lifeless object ( camera) can commit rape. A lesser actress would have diminished these lewd scenes, making them nothing more than clips from a ‘blue film’ or a ‘pondi’ as porno films were dubbed then. Vidya manages to take the raunchy content several notches up on the strength of her personality. But what about the all-important image, after this? There is a telling line in the film when a character says, “After a woman shows audiences everything, what is left to sell?” Vidya must have thought it through before agreeing to ‘show everything’. For, it is also Vidya’s awe-inspiring cleavage and not just her rivetting acting alone that leave a long-lasting impression. One expects a first class performance from Vidya given her caliber. No surprises there. But nobody suspected Vidya had such tantalizing boobs!Since her breasts virtually play an independent role of their own in the movie, it’s pretty hard not to stare at those perky bouncies – there they are, sticking out aggressively in practically every frame.You are expected to remain fixated.
Watching the movie with an informed filmi crowd, it was obvious, that the ‘in jokes’, insider gossip and dark secrets about how the film industry functions down South, were instantly understood and chuckled over. But will others ‘get it’? Will they even bother? Or is the main idea to keep the audience salivating, leering and possibly jeering? Was Silk really a closet feminist behind the tinsel nappies and satin nighties? Is Vidya telling us to look within and bond with our inner dirty selves? Does her thundering speech on society’s double standards serve a higher purpose than the message delivered so graphically by her thunder thighs? Heaven knows! For now, it’s okay for Vidya to lap up the attention , wink at cameras constantly, bite her lower lip, stick out her tongue and talk dirty. It’s all for a good cause. A new genre is born – ‘Rassam Noir’.
By the way, there are a couple of fellas in the movie, in case nobody noticed. Naseeruddin Shah is brilliant as ‘Surya’, the self-obsessed, lecherous superstar. He gets the best lines, too, which he delivers with a delicious sense of irony. Each time a lackey gushes, “You are a genius, Saar,” Surya smiles smugly and says, “It can be such a curse.”
Vidya richly deserves an award. But so do her very expressive boobs. A separate one.
What I am worried about is will audiences accept one of our most talented stars if she gets to keep her clothes on in future projects?

Can't get Kolaveri Di out of my head!

2011-12-02T18:47:00.002+05:30

I guess i have gone totally mad! I interrupted my writing no less than five or six times today to listen to the nonsensical but oh-so-catchy superhit, 'Kolaveri Di.' I also loved the crazy track from 'Dirty Picture', which plays as a recurrent theme through the film (Tamil folk song?). About the movie! Ummmm, I'll post my review tomorrow at some stage. I'll be rushing off to the Mumbai Literary Carnival, aptly titled 'Fully Booked' for my session with Suhel Seth 'refreed' by Bachi Karkaria. Should be fun! Then I shall hijack Suhel and a few friends to our home. Little do they know they have a full on Kolaveri Di evening ahead of them! That's my 'revenge' - ha!
About the picture , like my daughter sarcastically titled it , "Just another lazy sunday at home....!" As if! We were shooting a fashion spread for Abu-Sandeep. And it was the first time I was working with Ram Shergill, the London-Paris based photographer who counts Naomi and Kate as friends. I can see why. He is sure, quick and competent. Once we got into our sunday best, the shoot was over in an hour. I had the best time working with a charming, caring gentleman, and not a cold robot (like most top photographers are these days). I remembered and missed GAUTAM, like mad that afternoon. Ram and he share the same gentle, refined qualities that bring out the best in their subjects.
Earlier the same day, my 'Thappad' column had appeared in the Sunday Times... the shoot provided a welcome respite.
Okay, chaps. It's time to go back to Kolaveri Di. This time I'm going to dance to the fabulous beat!
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The Slap that shook India….

There are two ways of looking at ‘The Slap’. Remember Herman Hupfeld’s immortal lyrics of ‘As Time Goes By…? “….a kiss is just a kiss…” crooned Louis Armstrong many moons ago. Well, extending the sentiment, we can always say, ‘A slap is just a slap.” Which is exactly what Sharad Pawar, the recipient of the latest ‘thappad’ has shrewdly and sensibly done. Hats off to the Union Minister for proving with great finesse and finality what distinguishes him from his cabinet colleagues and puts him in a league of his own – it’s the man’s sang froid, dammit!Let’s hand it to him. Seconds after Harvinder Singh attained his 15 minutes of fame by taking Pawar off guard,our cool customer (Pawar) had regained his composure and even ‘forgiven’ the attacker. Now, that’s the sort of masterstroke only a seasoned,wise and astute neta can convincingly pull off before waltzing away with a relaxed smile. Let lesser beings respond to the ‘dastardly, undemocratic’ attack on their leader. Let his party workers lead protests, block roads, stop trains, throw rocks, burn tyres, rough up people and generally disrupt life as a mark of their loyalty and love. Their actions have nothing to do with Pawar. He isn’t responsible for wanton acts of destruction. He isn’t pointing fingers or blaming anybody. Why, he is even ignoring Anna Hazare’s taunt ( “ Was it just one slap?”). This is how the game of politics is played by professionals. It’s the bumbling amateurs who rave and rant and act martyred after being publicly humiliated. Pawar once again established his position as the biggest ‘Dada’ of them all.
But the ‘thappad’ itself has generated a great deal of reaction and this is the interesting part. Throwing shoes at leaders to show unbridled rage and frustration, flinging cream cakes on the faces of celebrities, spitting on fallen heroes and getting within striking distance of VVIPs has recently acquired the elevated status of a legitimate sport. Far from being looked down upon as a hated figure, Harvinder Singh is seen as a hero by a lot of viewers who clapped and cheered each time the infamous ‘thappad’ was telecast. Forget the rightness and wrongness of Harvinder’s action for now. Forget arguments about how ‘uncivil’ and ‘undemocratic’ such a trend is. Focus instead on the response by the aam aadmi. Nobody is manipulating that person. Nobody is monitoring the reactions of ordinary people eating dinner at home and applauding Harvinder. More than that, how can anybody ‘manage’ what happened on social networking sites, seconds after the incident? The jeering and jubilation is still on, and we cannot ignore it. Harvinder may well be a mentally unstable person who does it for publicity. But there is no denying the fact that Harvinder’s unruly conduct has touched a chord . People across India are saying the same thing in one voice - ‘Well done, Paapey!” Yes, it’s dangerous and disturbing. But there it is.
This is not about Sharad Pawar . He just happened to be the man at the receiving end of the most recent slap. This is about the mood that’s building up and threatening to overtake good sense and better judgment. There are hundreds and thousands of Harvinders out there, each one wishing to do what he did. Not all of them are crazy publicity hounds. A lot of them are average citizens at the end of their tether. People are plain fed up and sick to death of what they see as official deception - an eyewash. Too many people are starting to believe they have been taken for a monumental ride by leaders who are above and beyond the law themselves, yet preach transparency and honesty to others. Yes, Anna Hazare did do his one good deed after all: he succeeded in galvanizing public opinion by making corruption the centerpiece of his movement.What we are witnessing today is an impassioned reaction to the government’s apathy to deal with the biggest issue faced by independent India – corruption.So long as our leaders continue to play ostrich and wait for the present angry national mood to miraculously blow over, there will more chappals and thappads to deal with. Too bad it can’t be any other way. Deep rooted frustration and anger need an outlet. We are still some distance away from Tahrir Square. But if we continue to ignore the Harvinder Singhs in our midst, rocks and worse could replace footwear and slaps. It’s time to start singing ‘Kolaveri Di’ …. it’s therapeutic!

Vidya Balan.... and 'Dirty' ????

2011-11-29T10:10:00.001+05:30

Let’s not kid ourselves….

26\11 has come and gone. Three years have flown by. Nothing has changed. Nothing is likely to. Mumbai remains an attractive and easy target for just about any terrorist organization that wants to attack our city. It can happen again, even as I am keying in this column on the grisly third anniversary that shook the metropolis. Mumbai can never be the same again…. no matter what sort of a brave face we put on , which mask we wear, or how hard we try to convince ourselves that we have ‘moved on’. No, we haven’t. We can’t. Much as I would like to go back to what was described as a ‘normal’ pre-26/11 life, the truth of the matter is, that particular life has disappeared forever. Which is another reason why I refused to participate in panel discussions on various tv channels this year. Discussions that sound even more meaningless and hollow today than they did three years ago,in the horrifying aftermath of the attacks. The only people who genuinely suffered and continue to express their heart-breaking grief are those who lost their loved ones – their wounds may never heal.Sure, life will go on even for these families, but each anniversary will become yet another ghastly reminder of a tragedy that took away someone precious. Scanning those poignant ‘Remembrances’ in newspaper advertisements, made me indescribably sad. Juxtaposed with the poems and quotations from the Bhagwad Gita and other scriptures, were interviews with bureaucrats and ministers uttering the same , stale, tired , fake platitudes that fool no one. It was almost sickening to carry on reading all that nonsense about the great measures that are in place today and all the various ‘improvements’ initiated to safeguard the city against future attacks.We know this is misleading and false, amounting to nothing but political propaganda. But what is the average Mumbaikar supposed to do? Which is why, we fall back on the few consolations that make us feel a little better – at least temporarily. We lap up inane quotes from movie stars, models and assorted ‘celebrities’ whose bravado lacks conviction (“ We must stand together and show the terrorists we are one. They can’t defeat our spirit. Mumbai is the greatest city in the world. Love, not hate is the answer.”). Total rubbish! The only real voices expressing genuine anguish and pain,were those of the innocent children of our brave policemen. It is the families of the less fortunate victims who have to live with their loss for the rest of their lives. For the rest of us, 26/11 will soon get reduced to yet another ‘date’ that is marked on the calendar.Even the numbness will eventually wear off… we will soon stop caring at all. Those cop kids will grow up. Other survivors will cope the best they can. Perhaps a new Headley will emerge from the shadows.Ajmal Qasab will grow into middle age inside some prison, and nobody will remember or bother.What will never change is the shamelessness of the leaders we ourselves have elected and supported all along.Perhaps, that’s really all we deserve?
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Monitoring Vidya (Ooh la la) Balan’s dramatic transformation ( all for the role, of course!), has been a fascinating exercise. The thing is, no matter what Vidya does, she can never be ‘dirty’. Her robust attempts at staying ‘in character’ (read: raunchy) before the launch of her ambitious film, are admirable. All those tacky sarees, cheap dance moves, even naughty, off-colour jokes during promotional interviews! My, my! Our ‘Parineeta’ is really gambling big with this one. Hats off to Vidya. I cannot imagine any other heroine attempting something as potentially dangerous to her image , no matter what the demands of the role. Even Kareena Kapoor didn’t take such daring chances during ‘Chameli’. Trust Vidya to go the extra mile. That’s what makes VB different.She’s ‘hot’. But sorry, she ain’t ‘dirty’. Or rather ‘dirty’ enough!
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Desi Gurrlz , are you ready for the Desi Boyz?What a fun film!Totally nonsensical,illogical and worse.But Rocko and Hunter are gonna get you!I know of two Mumbai socialites who want to hire these stud muffins (John A and Akshay K) as ‘escorts’ at their 60th birthday bashes.Chitrangada smoulders… and how! Steals the show with her animated face and super-sexy body-lingo.Gigolos get their due, finally!

2011-11-26T14:00:00.000+05:30

The write way•

By Manjari Saxena, Deputy Editor, tabloid! on Saturday
Published: 00:00 November 26, 2011

Shobhaa De is an author, columnist and TV presenter known for not mincing her words. In more than two decades, the prolific writer has written not just bestselling novels but has commented on topics such as politics, film, social differences and gender discrimination. She writes regular columns for leading Indian English dailies and her books are course material in the University of London. With six children (two from her first marriage, two from her second and two step kids) De has surely seen a tumultuous family life but she plainly refuses to talk about her personal life.
"Family is sacred and out of bounds," she said, smiling. "Anything else is fine. And it's not like I haven't spoken of how to cope with it. It's all there in my books." De was speaking on the sidelines of the Sharjah International Book Fair last week where she was on the panel to speak on Outstanding Women in Fiction.
She says she's "like every woman in the world".
"I believe [a woman] is a juggler, an acrobat, a tightrope walker, a multi-tasker, a general dogs-body," she explains. "You cope and you enjoy yourself. Sometimes you weep with frustration, other times you exult and celebrate life. Women's lives are necessarily led and complex and hard to penetrate. You always have to look for the subtext."
De has definitely been a multi-tasker, having managed to be a bestselling author, wife and mother. Yet, at 63, she looks like a woman in her mid- to late forties. Time seems to have stood still for her.
"I'm a grandmother also now," she corrects me. "I think I've only a very good gene pool to thank for it because I don't think I do anything exceptional. I don't have the time. I lead a very busy life and I think that keeps me on my toes — large family, lots of writing commitments, I travel a lot. And I think the best kind of exercise for senior citizens is the one that is cerebral combined with a few basics — what you do in school — toe touching and limbering up. That's about it. But unless you are mentally active and feel good about yourself, you cannot look good. Feel good inside and you look good outside.
"The whole stereotype of a granny has changed," she continues. "You see a lot of women 60 plus today — and I can reel off names — who are very productive. So, as I said in my last book, 60 is the new 40 today. Whether it is Hema Malini, Shabana Azmi, Rekha, Sharmila Tagore, Simi or Sonia Gandhi and Hillary Clinton, older women are not like cows put to pasture anymore. It's a whole different way of looking at age and ageing. You must learn to make the best use of your time to be giving off yourself in a way that is meaningful to yourself and the people who are around you that is your family, your colleagues. If there is a mantra at all, it's to remain completely on top of your game, your life and be very productive."
With all her protagonists women, in the past two decades, how has she seen the Indian woman change?
"My next novel has a male protagonist," she laughs. "I'm returning to fiction after 13 years, and hope my readers accept this protagonist with as much enthusiasm as they have the women in my books.
"As for the Indian woman changing — dramatically. She's an unrecognisable person from the woman I knew when I was growing up. And I see it as a huge step forward. It's a very optimistic portrait that I can visualise for not just my daughter's generation but definitely for my granddaughter's generation who will grow up with the idea, for example, of a working grandmother. My generation grew up not even with a working mother, forget grandmother. But for Avantika's [my daughter's] generation, some of them took it in their stride that their mothers were working women and this generation of Indian girls is growing up with fantastic role models as they are seeing what is possible. With a two-income family being a reality in India, today it's no longer an option or something you do on the side as a hobby. It is required if you want any quality of life, education for your kids and so on. So women are definitely the biggest catalysts of social change. They are leading a quiet revolution without giving up on their feminine selves, without having to take to the streets, without having to ask for concessions. And they are doing it wonderfully well. The future, especially for the Asian countries, is absolutely dazzling."

Baba-Baby Zindabad!

2011-11-23T21:58:00.004+05:30

I am down with a severe case of laryngitis - not even a croak manages to escape my constricted throat. And you know what? I'm lovin' it! Silence is such a friend. So soothing, so reassuring! The condition also provides the perfect excuse to not take or make calls ( I'm allergic to both). I have just downed my fifth mug of hot water with haldi, ginger and honey ( thanks, aie and aji!). Am ready to crash early ( normal beddy -bed time being 2 a.m. ). The family is disoriented by my silence... perhaps, relieved as well? I had to turn down TV requests, too. Which was not such a good thing, since I did have my views on Ratan Tata nominating Cyrus Mistry as his successor.
Let's blame this ridiculous hoarse throat on the Dubai Bug. How I loved my four days there, though! The Sharjah Book Fair was superbly organised and it was wonderful to see full attendance at the 'meet the author' sessions. I met one of our Blogdosts ( Hello! Maddy!!) at mine! Ten Indian authors and hundreds of local supporters. That's the way to do it. A little birdie told me our blue eyed boy, Shashi Tharoor was mad as hell because the chopper that was to fly him from Abu Dhabi to Sharjah arrived two hours late. Not that his fans minded. They waited patiently for Shashi and Sunanda. Organisers informed me later that the wait was well worth it, since Shashi charmed their pants and dish-dashes off!
As for me, I was happy to note Dubai has got its groove back. Big time! It's business and shopping as usual. And the dunes are alive with the sound of dirhams once more!!
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This appeared in Asian Age...

Baba-Baby Zindabad!

Yes! India’s most awaited celeb- baby has arrived. Jai ho! Little Miss World is finally here. Family Bachchan is over the moon. And so are their fans. Congratulations, Aishwarya and Abhishek. Mubarak ho! Now can we all please get back to work …to our rather dull lives, and leave the parents of the new born to get on with theirs? After the unprecedented speculation, interest,gossip and publicity surrounding the pregnancy of our most beautiful actress, it’s time for some respite. Really! The relentless tracking of Ash’s every twitch and flutter… the huge amounts of betting money involved… followed by the unusual code of ethics regarding media coverage of the big event, made one wonder whether even Princess Di had been subjected to such scrutiny when she gave birth to the heir (and spare) of the British throne. More recently, Carla Bruni Sarkozy delivered her little girl minus too much of a media frenzy. Why, even Posh Beckham produced her latest bundle of joy without the waiting world holding its collective breath for the momentous delivery. Baby B’s case is unique. Almost from the day she was conceived, there was news value attached to the dramatic announcement. Even if one overlooks the Madhur Bhandarkar ‘Heroine’ controversy, Baby B was deemed ‘hot’ by the breathless media. It is to Aishwarya’s credit that she chose good sense and propriety over instant publicity and non-stop coverage, by dropping out of sight for the first few months of her much-awaited,much-debated pregnancy. Perhaps it was natural caution, even superstition that dictated Aishwarya’s decision. In retrospect, it was the way to go.We love our desi traits – well, most of them. We believe in ‘nazar’ and most expectant mothers lie low for the first five months of pregnancy, afraid of consequences that have a lot to do with the idea of someone’s ‘evil eye’ falling on them. All this is true and understandable. What was harder to figure out was the exaggerated media interest in this particular case. It was as if viewers and readers could think of little else beyond Baby B’s sex and arrival date. At one point it became a national obsession with the equivalent of a countdown programme monitoring the progress of Ash’s growing girth. Several top actresses have taken maternity leave to go off and have their babies. Some have taken permanent leave after that and left movies for good. Others have waited for the kids to grow up a little before announcing a come back. Two of them ( Madhuri Dixit and Karishma Kapoor) are bravely in the running once again, and soldiering on, as they await their respective fates at a very cruel box office. Sridevi is the bravest of them all as she readies herself for her return to the big screen even after years of being just a svelte mom to two daughters. Sonali Bendre and Raveena Tandon were never in the same league as the others, but they have sensibly settled for a different niche. Being a Bollywood Goddess does come with certain caveats. It remains to be seen how Aishwarya’s career shapes up after the birth of her tiny bundle of joy.
While the feverish interest in Baby B was peaking, several crucial developments were taking place in India – in case anybody noticed or cared! Rahul Baba’s initiation into adulthood was on in U.P. and political pundits were monitoring his every move and utterance very closely. Unfortunately for India’s most pampered ‘Baba’, his baby steps into the big, bad world of savage politicking in the badlands of Mayawati terrain, started off on a dheela note with that remark about ‘beggars’ in Maharashtra. Much as he tried to back track and salvage his position after that gauche comment, our ‘Baba’ is still stuck in a bad spot. Seen as an eager toddler by rivals, Rahul’s attempts to bare his fangs and show some teeth are embarrassingly naïve. Rahul is utterly unconvincing when he attempts to play Gabbar Singh and growl, “Kitney aadmi thhe?” Besides, it’s really hard to visualise Diggy responding to Rahul if he calls out ‘Arrey O, Samba’ . That is another thing about desi traits. Once we dub someone a ‘Baba’ or a ‘Baby’, try as they might, they cannot shake off this annoying childhood tag. They remain kids for life. Check out the number of middle-aged ‘Baba Bhais’ floating around Gujarat. Once a ‘Baba’ crosses fifty in Gujarat, people around him add a deferential ‘Bhai’ , which makes it a particularly comical combo. It gets funnier still when ‘Baba Bhai’s’ grandson arrives on the scene. That poor child is then referred to as ‘Baba Bhai nu Babo.” Go figure! Rahul, poor chap, is a victim of just such a syndrome. India may love Jawaharlal Nehru’s cute ‘Babo’ to death and genuinely want him to succeed. But his minders need to project him correctly from this point on. No matter how strenuously Rahul dresses down and does his whole ‘Son of the Soil’ number, clad in unironed khadi, he is no rumpled –crumpled, run of the mill neta. He is seen as a Prince. He looks like a Prince. All he has to do is behave like one. And forget making speeches. Leave speechifying to more competent courtiers like Kapil Sibal. Rahul playing the Reluctant Prince has a greater chance of impressing the unwashed masses than Rahul the Unconvincing Socialist. Making people believe he possesses a magic wand that will take care of their problems miraculously somewhere in the future, is a far better strategy to adopt than the one he’s going in for right now. Mayawati is on a roll. She is coming up with one master stroke after another. Mayawati looks unstoppable. Like an elephant on a rampage. You need a Hercules to take her on.Rahul Baba had better start pumping iron. Right now!

Baby B needs a name....

2011-11-22T22:18:00.002+05:30

Guys... this is your chance to name the most famous baby in India! Apparently the Bachchans are looking for unusual names starting with the letter 'A'.Go for it! Let's see which blogdost hits the jackpot! I like Amaara a lot. I also like Aparajita and Ayesha. You go next....

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This appeared in Bombay Times...

Chho Chwwweeet!

We love our babies! And we love our celeb-babies the most. Now that the latest bachcha to be born into the Bachchan household is nearly a week old, it’s time to relax! For the past nine months, we were behaving like India was pregnant! Never before has so much footage, so much newsprint been devoted to the birth of a baby. Any baby. That makes Baby B special. Very special. When she grows up and discovers the mass hysteria around her birth, she may just gasp and wonder what the fuss was all about. But at the moment, everybody is busy asking, “Does she look like Ash?” That is the big question dominating the chitter-chatter-twitter crowd. “Does she have Ash’s eyes?” Here’s another one : “ It seems her lucky letter is ‘K’. What will she be named? How about Keya?” Will she giggle like her mom? Be as graceful? Will she inherit her dad’s height? Will she join movies? Take on endorsements? Oooof.Too much, na? Does all this sound totally crazy? It is!
Victoria Beckham is battling the same issues. Each time she steps out with Harper, she is pounced upon - a major paparazzi-attack follows! It is believed Harper has beaten Suri Cruise in the baby fashion stakes and that Victoria is coming out with a special fashion line for richie-rich, trendy bambini with global tastes in rompers. The Beckhams have produced four gorgeous kids and Victoria effortlessly pops them out phata-phat, like buns out of an oven, without gaining an extra centimeter! God knows how she does it, but hats off to her. In India, we make a super production out of celeb-babies. I read a funny piece on some blog which slams women who flash their baby bumps for showing off as ‘Fertility Queens’.In India, this is comparatively a new trend as we tend to be super-superstitious about pregnancy. Even as late as five years ago, expectant mothers played down their delicate condition, wore deceptively loose garments, stayed indoors, till it became obvious they were indeed ‘in the family way’. Today, having a baby has become a style statement!And displaying a baby bump is considered really cool. Much to her credit, Aishwarya was discreet and demure throughout her pregnancy, making just one surprise appearance at Abu-Sandeep’s 25th anniversary party.
In all likelihood, our media will go into overdrive once Ash gets home with her bundle of joy. With all the unprecedented, self-imposed press restrictions this time, perhaps we’ll see some restraint. But that won’t be exercised forever! Just wait and see what happens when Baby B goes for her first outing , most likely, a temple visit six months from now. Till such time , the hungry presswallas will have to make do with Proud Papa Abhishek’s frequent tweets and updates. Unless, of course the Big B launches a separate blog for his grand-daughter! Now that would make it a wonderful first! Let’s welcome Baby B to the blogosphere, folks! And, of course, to a life in a fish bowl.

2011-11-21T12:37:00.001+05:30

The Amazing Shobhaa De
November 18th, 2011

The last two days have been amazing – and full of outstanding women.
One of them is the excellent Shobhaa De – an Indian writer and broadcaster, and one firecracker of a speaker.
She was on the outstanding Women in Fiction panel at #shjibf with Kate Mosse , Oumaima Abdullah al-Khamis (Saudi Arabia) and Dr Ahdaf Suwaif (Egypt)which Lisa Dempster has written about beautifully already. It was bloody brilliant and highly charged.
Shobhaa is full of amazing, inspiring ideas. In a breathless hour she spoke of politics, power, feminism, aging, family, writing and so much more.
I make it sound cliché, but she’s positively electric. Her wit and a certain lightness of touch manage to freshen-up tired conversations to which so many worthy writers and events fall victim.
At 60, she’s a best-selling novelist, international phenomenon, journalist and mother of 6. Honestly, I don’t think the paparazzi bulbs stopped flashing during the entire talk.
She’s sparkling and clever and incredibly passionate – especially about the phenomenal growth and astounding opportunities arising in India today.
It was an intense hour and I’ve honestly been buzzing ever since.
I am highly intrigued by the bold new writing coming out of India – she’s made some fascinating suggestions I need to ferret out while I am here.
Plus, I’d love to learn more about the exploding market there. Every day you hear of bookshops folding and independent presses running dry. The press constantly bemoan the death of print – and the flagging subscription rate to broadsheets. In India, however, the trend is for growth and demand – and at an astounding rate. There are more books, more stores, more newspapers – more of everything it seems.
I picked up one of her books, my first purchase of the fair [if you don't count my daily can of Coke to see me through the heat of the day].
I had it signed while a camera was rolling, so I may well be on the 6 o’clock news somewhere in the world. I have no idea.
It was incrediby inspiring on many levels.
She is exactly the sort of person I’d love to take out to dinner and just pick her brains. I hope someday I have the chance to do so. Wouldn’t that be a treat!

Baby B is finally here!!

2011-11-16T19:08:00.002+05:30

India can stop being pregnant ... now that Aishwarya has delivered Baby B! I have written two columns on this momentous occasion... watch this space! Am off to Dubai / Sharjah for the Book Fair at which India and Indian authors are the focus this year. Am looking forward to this event, mainly to check for myself whether or not people read in that part of the world! Ten years ago I had inaugurated a similar Book Fair which had seen the participation of top International publishers.... but hardly any readers!! More on my return. Till then... mubarak ho!! Congratulations to the family and blessings for the Bachchan bachcha.

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This appeared in Hi Blitz!

It’s all in the bag….!

What’s with women and handbags? Oh…. billions! One day I shall meet my dream woman, Mayawati, and the only thing I’d wish to discuss with her – you’ve guessed it – is handbags. Mayawati is India’s official Bag Lady. And here’s why I think Hermes should exclusively design for and dedicate a bag to our pyaari Mayawati. Birkins and Kellys don’t quite cut it in India. Every B-grade starlet in Bollywood possesses several – fakes, of course. And socialites in droves parade their limited edition trophy bags along with the latest, not-so-limited toy boy. Agree, both make great eye candy. But think about the poor brand! It has taken Hermes a few decades to convince the world there’s nothing quite as desirable as a Kelly or Birkin. But now that desi starlets, poppets and bimbettes have started flashing their acquisitions on Page 3, the bags are doomed! This is where Mayawati comes in. Hermes should sign her up as a brand ambassador instantly. Forget those anorexic actresses with attitude. Signing Mayawati would be an absolute coup! An audacious and imaginative move that would make international headlines. Given all her statues ( always but always with a handbag), the marketing opportunities are pretty impressive. Every great leader \ dictator is associated with a symbol. Gaddafi had his head gear. Che’s beret remains a huge political –cum- fashion statement. Gandhiji’ s round eye frames are considered cool. Anna appropriated the Mahatma’s topi. Netaji preferred breeches. Rajiv Gandhi’s trademark Gucci loafers are widely copied by young netas of today. Indira Gandhi’s handloom one–offs are Sonia’s legacy now. And Maya Memsaab’s rexine handbags are so closely associated with her personality, I half –suspect she goes to bed with a handbag slung around her wrist.
Interestingly enough, I attended a high profile Halloween party last month. A soiree hosted by India’s most applauded banker. Along with the witches and devils in scary gear, one couple really stood out. Our neighbour Pomi arrived with a garland of currency notes around her neck, her feet shod in heavy duty rubber chappals . She was, of course, carrying a hideous plastic handbag. Just in case people didn’t get her attire,or understand her tribute to Mayawati that night, her husband Bharat was dressed as his wife’s official bagman ( dhoti, dark glasses, shoes and socks ). He walked in dragging a large suitcase to stash the cash. That was not just a clever fancy dress, but an enormous statement that wasn’t lost on the moneymen present! This sexy Mayawati really rocked the party . That night itself, I made a few mental notes. Hermes has recently opened a suitably swishy flagship store in Mumbai ( I have yet to visit… but I’m not a Birkin babe). The more I thought about the Mayawati Bag, the better sense it made! She has the numbers. And does she have the lolly! If even one hundreth of her followers buy her bag, that’s one hell of a lot of money in the bank! I would love to own one, myself! Why should I carry a bag inspired by Princess Grace Kelly of Monaco when I can support Maharani Mayawati of Uttar Pradesh?
Let’s hope Mayawati does not dilute her impressive equity. It has to be Hermes or nothing! Mayawati is way bigger than Paris Hilton, who came to India to sell her handbags. If Mayawati positions and markets herself strategically, she could become the Planet Earth’s biggest Bag Lady. She has the potential to beat Imelda Marcos, whose staggering shoe collection became a talking point for the world. The Hermes representatives in India claim sales shot up after the famous ‘Bagwati’ spoof in ‘Zindagi….’. According to them, there is a long waiting list for an identical bag in the two India stores ( the first one opened in Pune – which says something about Pune and its purchasing power). If a Bollywood spoof and shrewd product placement could generate so much press ( and instant sales), imagine the impact a Mayawati Bag would have. And since timing is everything, it would make perfect sense to work on the launch immediately. The Elections are round the corner. And the heat this generates in U.P. can be capitalized on even as we speak. Mayawati is going to dominate our mind space in 2012. She is a pretty powerful brand in her own right. Since India will be seeing a lot of this lady in the coming year, and we all know Mayawati and her bag can never be parted, Hermes should move ahead tout suite and … well, bag her, before someone else does. I have visualized the design in my head. It features the Taj Mahal ( remember Mayawati’s memorable Taj corridor plan?). The bag will have to be large enough to balance the lady’s own proportions ( this is important - all future statues will necessarily commemorate Mayawati’s international rise to fame and glory). As a prime ministerial candidate, it is important to create a bag that reflects Mayawati’s personality, which is awesome and daunting. By then she’s bound to be on all the world’s Rich Lists. Officially, at that. We can’t have her carrying the wrong bag. Indian Izzat ka sawal, hai.
How about it, Hermes?

Sweeeeeet Kangana!

2011-11-15T17:20:00.002+05:30

This appeared in Bombay Times yesterday....

There’s Something about Kangana….

I saw a ravishing looking woman at a distance and wondered who she was. This was at Mumbai airport, weekday mid-morning.She turned around and waved. Several heads swiveled simultaneously. It was as if every single person in the overcrowded lounge had eyes for just this one person. It was only when I reached her that I recognised Kangana . Kangana Chameleon. She is such a lovely girl – lovely, as in individualistic, spunky, edgy, beautiful. There’s nothing boring about Kangana. Nothing predictable, either. That’s what makes her special. Whether it’s her choice of men or movies, she’s like Maggi Noodles – different. Wearing a perfectly filled, sporty day dress and standing steady on towering heels, Kangana could have passed for an international ramp walker. She laughed when I told her that and said she was on a crazy diet plan to tone up big time for her new role for which she has to slither into a skin tight rubber suit. She pouted, “ I have to oil my body before getting into costume. Even if I lose a few more kilos, a single extra fold on my skin will show on screen.” Dear God! All this self -punishment for a costume and a glam role! I asked about her new hair… it looked like a well- constructed, short blond-ish wig. That question was enough to set her off! She talked about having spent nine straight hours at her regular salon with her regular hair stylist, who must have been on something far stronger than coffee when she did what she did to Kangana’s hair! According to the actress, once she washed out the colour, not only was her hair grey (“not platinum blond…. but GREY!”), it was also coming off her scalp in clumps. Agitated and exhausted, Kangana ordered the hair dresser to somehow fix the damage. “ Next thing I knew, it was 3 inches short on top , with a straggly, long Chinese chhoti at the back. All this after trying imported hair extensions which hurt and prevented me from sleeping at night because of the head ache.” Several deeply interested passengers traveling on the same flight to Ahemdabad, were eagerly hanging on to her every word. By this time, Kangana was in full flow. She said she was going to Ahemdabad for an event ( she wasn’t very sure what she was expected to promote at the store!), but that she would be paid a huge amount of money for showing up ( “I’ll pick up the cheque and come home”). She chuckled with delight at the ease of it all, while two minders ( event managers? ) in shiny suits looked nervously at one another. I asked who did her clothes shopping? Kangana always displays such confidence and flair, her style quotient seems to improve by the hour as it were! Unlike other Bollywood stars who seem clueless and paralysed without their stylists, Kangana sets her own trends and often defies fashion gurus by her eccentric wardrobe choices that work splendidly for her. She replied proudly she is her own shopper and mainly buys her clothes and accessories during her foreign trips. It figures. Heaven knows where she gets it all from… I’d say, it’s inborn. Kangana remains an obstinate original. As we walked into the aircraft, still discussing “burnt and damaged” hair, “ unflattering rubber suits” and other fascinating details that define the life of movie stars, Kangana slid into row one (business class). She thought I would be seated right next to her! I laughed and showed her my cattle class boarding pass. She looked aghast and upset…. “But why?” she wanted to know. I didn’t have the heart to tell her the Sahitya Akademi does not have lavish budgets for us poor writers, and the ‘event’ I was attending in A’Bad was just a humble, national Colloquium for Women Writers at which each participant would receive an honourarium of a princely 2000 rupees. Kangana continued to look terribly distressed. I guessed she was feeling exceedingly sorry for me!! Sweet Kangana!

Get 'Diggy' with it....!

2011-11-13T22:32:00.002+05:30

I came back from a whirlwind trip to Amdavad last night. I was there to deliver the keynote address at the National Colloquium for Women Writers, organised by the Sahitya Akademi and the English Department of the University of Gujarat. Twenty writers... and terrific local interest, made for a successful occasion. I was honoured to deliver the address which I had titled : ".... and where do we go from here?" If any of you can provide an answer to that intriguing question, I'll attempt the impossible and write you a poem! Take a crack at it, Blogdosts! Do it in 250 words or so....
Amdavad is such a transformed city, I could have been in Hyderabad! All our cities look alike these days, and I hate the conformity. But at least one thing has not changed in Amdavad - the food! I went to 'Rajwadu', an amazing destination spread over an acre ( the owners grow their own vegetables and fruits and everything is organic) . Ably conceived and run by the portly and popular Manishbhai, the restaurant-cum-cultural centre serves the best Gujju thali I've ever eaten outside a Gujju home. More than that, it honours Gujarati writers and poets in the charming bookstore attached to the restaurant, not just by selling their books but displaying posters featuring quotes from their work. I was delighted to find two of my books (Gujarati editions)on the shelves.
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This appeared in the Sunday Times of India today...

The Importance of being Rahul Baba…

“We need Rahul Gandhi to look after all of us,” declared Digvijay Singh without cringing or blushing. Digvijay is 64- years- old.And Rahul, 41 .What exactly was Digvijay Singh thinking when he made that rather astonishing statement? And who is ‘we’? The people of India? The Congress Party? Digvijay Singh’s immediate family? What sort of ‘looking after’ was he referring to? Physical and emotional well-being? Spiritual succour? Political leadership?Who knows? Diggy has spoken! And going by his recent, unchallenged utterings , it is safe to assume he speaks for ‘the family’. And that includes the extended family around Rahul Gandhi.As the officially designated Good Shepherd, Rahul is expected to provide the much needed booster shot to a party that is dithering and struggling to hang together. Too many brains, too much ambition and lots at stake.Plus, the rather grim possibility of a couple of heads ready to roll in the near future. Takleef ki baat hai - no leader, no rudder. Just a good looking, earnest young man trying hard to fit into a role he doesn’t particularly enjoy. It is almost as if all this responsibility is being thrust on the poor chap and he is being force fed on a daily diet of sycophancy to make everything seem better.For all his good manners and charm, Rahul looks and behaves like a well- meaning apprentice working in a PSU. An intern learning the ropes under the critical gaze of a billion people. It’s tough being Rahul Gandhi. But then again, what choice does he have?
If Sonia indeed does slide over to ease sonny boy into her own, highly privileged position, there won’t be a squeak of protest. If that happens and Rahul gets to cut his teeth on steering the shaky party (with a li’l help from mama) to safer ground, will Rahul get promoted to the next level, and have India’s prime ministership thrust on him? Zero resistance guaranteed. Even from those ministers who are spending more time these days on fixing each other than on earning their keep. Better a Rahul, than a rival! Corporate India will be overjoyed as well. Rahul is seen as ‘one of us’, and everybody is comfortable with him. Besides, as business honchos have shrewdly concluded, rather a wet- behind- the ears Rahul, than any of the Maciavellian present lot gunning for the top job. Poor Rahul is no ‘game changer’. But he is a welcome distraction. The media loves him – he is photogenic, young and reasonably articulate. He is no threat to anyone. And it is understood, Rahul can be ‘mananged’ quite effortlessly, if handled right. So far, ‘Team Rahul’ is lying low, perhaps waiting to test the waters before unveiling ‘The Plan for the Prince’. It’s the right strategy.Playing it cool is definitely the way forward, and Rahul’s minders are making sure he doesn’t overstate his case or credentials. For a person who has no real qualifications, has not held a ministerial post, moving to the top of the heap may prove to be a little tougher than envisaged. But throughout history, there have been inexperienced young princes groomed and licked into shape by senior courtiers and family elders. Again, comparing Rahul’s trajectory to his father’s is not fair. Rajiv was plucked out his comfort zone and thrust into a brand new role because of a ghastly personal tragedy. The mood of the nation was gloomy… India was grieving. It’s a different story now. The only grief we know has to do with corruption and poor governance. Is Rahul Gandhi the right person to lead a frontal attack against both? Can he play the Knight in Shining Armour and fix the naughty boys within his own party before tackling the rest? Today’s young Indian is impatient, aggressive and demanding. Deliver or else, is how it works.Rahul Gandhi has to deliver.Dropping in on unsuspecting, poverty stricken villagers to break bhakris with them can only take Rahul this far. If he does indeed take the leap of faith required to lead India as prime minister , he will have to do much better than that. As reality shows go, there can be no better concept than India itself. Today, we have a Sushil Kumar , the toast of the country after winning 5 crores on KBC. Sushil Kumar has The Big B to thank for his luck turning overnight. But The Big G ( Rahul) has it tougher by far. He will have to hold out a comparable promise to an entire generation of hungry Indians waiting to hit the jackpot.
In case Rahul Baba gets stuck, who will bail him – and us – out? Any answers, Diggyji??

Belle of the Management Ball....

2011-11-10T13:54:00.002+05:30

I am still recovering from the strobe effects of the super glam Hello! Awards,aptly titled 'The Hall of Fame.' It's in its second edition this year, and the team was wondering whether or not it was possible to top the razzle -dazzle of Year One. Well, tough as it sounds, they did it! Despite the lack of grace and co-operation from The Trident Hotel where this high profile event was held. "Never again!" I overheard the Hello! team muttering after they were denied a meal, post-event! Besides these sort of hiccups, the show went on splendidly, with everyone from a Mukesh Ambani to an SRK turning up and participating with gusto. I enjoyed myself thoroughly.... but am seriously worried. What happens next year?? Watch this space!
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This appeared in The Week recently...

Belle of the Management Ball…

Recently, at an intense workshop for high powered female managers from across India , I was initially startled and then vastly amused by a particular response. I had posed this ‘simple’ question – ‘Who am I?” to the group, which was made up of forty, fiercely determined high achievers. Most of the ladies who had volunteered to share their answers, stuck to predictable statements such as, “I am a mother, a wife…a daughter…” and little beyond that. The clichés kept coming. A few variations were clearly aimed at impressing the bosses who were present, “ I am a leader… a great motivator…” Finally, one woman got up and announced defiantly, “I am a thief, a cheat and a liar.” Suddenly, every person in the room woke up and was on red alert. What? Was this woman totally crazy? Did she not care about her job and the poor impression she was creating? She had obviously anticipated just such a reaction. Calmly, she explained what she meant: “ I cheat on my husband by feigning interest in his conversation at the end of a long day, when all I want to do is put my feet up and relax. I lie to my bosses and pretend to be sick when I want to spend time with my baby daughter. And I call myself a thief for stealing time which does not belong to me to pursue my personal interests during work hours.” After the shock value of her opening remarks had died down, and the real import of her words sank in, all the women present – her colleagues and competitors,started clapping and cheering enthusiastically. She was the undisputed belle of the ball. Why? She was the one person who had spoken the truth. And given the tense ambience, that took a lot of guts.
I talk to professional women’s groups quite a lot, and the one commonality that often disturbs me is the lack of humour and the absence of poetry in their lives. Most of these women give the impression of being too uptight and wound up. Yes, they make a lot of money. But look at the irony of their situation – they have zero time to enjoy it! Yes, they get married, produce a child or two. But again, by the time they get home after putting in a twelve hour day at a soulless, impersonal work station, they are too exhausted to laugh, hug, chat or cuddle. The high pressure in the office robs them of any joy… worse, it completely depletes their energy levels. Often they are dealing with demanding clients from different parts of the world, functioning in time zones that are crazy for us in India. There are goals and targets that have to be met. Performance reviews that entail deep scrutiny. There is always the threat of an aggressive rival ready to displace the person and move into that vacated chair. Combine that with the so-called team spirit that has to be strictly adhered to even if you harbour murderous thoughts about the rest…. ooooof! Is it really worth it? What about an early burn out? And to get down to basics – what about a healthy sex life? These are women in their prime. And making love is a luxury they can’t afford! Tragic! I boldly asked them if they made the time for sex in their young marriages. Most shook their heads and sighed philosophically. One of them shrugged, “Who cares? What use are husbands these days?” This was getting sadder and sadder.
At the end of my session, as I was walking out with the bright, ambitious supervisors who were pretty pleased about the response to the workshop,I asked one of them if they had a recreational facility in that vast, green and cheerful complex. A facility where these stressed out ladies could relax a bit, enjoy a foot massage, get their hair and nails done, feel a bit pampered, listen to music, enjoy art, flip through magazines and books, maybe catch up on a movie. The answer was a flat ‘no’. But all you have here is an army of trained worker ants , I pointed out. I barely spotted a genuine smile or even a cheerful face. The women looked tense, preoccupied and miserable. How can they be productive if they are so robotic? The supervisors exchanged meaningful looks and answered mysteriously, “We have our own ways to keep them motivated. Our subsidized cafeteria has the best chefs in town. We feed them well!”
Gulp. That was my food for thought. Sorry to say, I could barely digest it.

The 5 Crore Man....

2011-11-07T16:21:00.002+05:30

A big hug to our Blogdost, Harish Iyer (Aham) who has won the ndtv Zindagi Live Award for Social Service!! Applause! Applause! He richly deserves it! And one more hug for another Blogdost Aparna Velankar for conducting a superb 'In Conversation' at the 25th 'Parle Katta' on saturday. It was a really special evening spent with 500 pre-dominantly Maharashtrian residents of Vile Parle. Not only was the function (held in a large garden) exceedingly well organised, but the thoughtful snacks served ( delicious sabudana khichdi,spicy batata wada with sweet chutney and elaichi flavoured, home brewed coffee) rounded off an ideas-charged evening, made still more special thanks to a fragrant tokri of Champak blossoms given to me and Aparna. Wish more people would offer local seasonal flowers to guests instead of boring, commercial bouquets! Questions from the audience were challenging and lively. This is the kind of crowd nobody can fool. I was delighted to be a part of it. So, when Mark Tully ( I met him at the closing party for the just concluded Mumbai Lit Fest, aptly called Literature Live, and ably chaired by Anil Dharker) snarkily asked me whether I had accepted such an invitation in order to sell more books, I snapped back ( no regrets!) and told him where to get off. Really!Such a crass question!
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This appeared in Bombay Times today...

The Five Crore Man..

Sushil Kumar from Bihar has joined the ranks of the ‘most-recognised’ celebrities in India after winning 5 crores on Amitabh Bachchan’s KBC. Excellent timing ( Diwali ) and superb marketing have propelled the young man from a life of total obscurity to an entirely different world under the spotlight. So far, Sushil Kumar remains delightfully underwhelmed by the attention and the moolah. I happened to share the same flight to Delhi last week, and have to confess I didn’t recognize the non-descript young man who was minding his own business and reading a Hindi newspaper. The story changed as soon as we landed. Several co-passengers gheraoed him , asking for autographs. He posed for pictures and chatted away without the slightest self-consciousness. Someone brought him over for an introduction and he disarmingly stated that since he didn’t speak any English, we’d have to converse in Hindi . He spoke sensibly and sincerely about his win, neither boasting nor underplaying its significance in his life. At the swanky New Delhi terminal, once again Sushil Kumar was enthusiastically mobbed by passengers and staff. The last I saw of him,he was in the middle of a large crowd getting clicked on several cell phones. He appeared cool and unfazed by all the attention. This is true celebrity.
Contrast Sushil Kumar’s attitude to that of nobodies parading as celebrities. Especially B- and C- grade Bollywood types who refuse to take their shades off inside the aircraft, and strut up and down the aisle strenuously trying to attract attention. It’s easy to spot these wannabes from a mile as they collar Page 3 photographers at splashy events and insist on being photographed with the Chief Guest. If a pesky kid is stupid enough to ask for an autograph, these delusional people display the worst attitude and a basic lack of good manners by playing hard to get. Quite forgetting that their 15 minutes of fame got over years ago. Perhaps a few months from now, not too many people will remember Sushil Kumar ( someone else may win 10 crores by then!). But chances are, it won’t matter to this down to earth man. He is clear about his objectives and wants to spend his win on educating his brothers and continuing his own education. Married less than six months ago, he smiles shyly when asked what he’d like to gift his wife. For now, Sushil Kumar is in a happy space, soberly enjoying his fame and good fortune . He isn’t likely to buy the latest designer shades to hide behind. Nor does one expect him to go for a fancy car. But while his moment of glory lasts, Sushil Kumar is all set to enjoy every minute of it! Good luck to the 5 Crore Man!
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Driving back from Pune recently, I had to pinch myself several times. The skyline has changed so dramatically it’s possible to believe one is in some futuristic city. Those towers! The mad architecture that mimics the best and worst of Singapore or Dubai. The gigantic shopping complexes that cover several acres! Mumbai is beginning to look like a poor cousin of Vashi and Belapur! Some irony, that!
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Happy Birthday Bombay Times! Those who made it to the Anniversary Mad Hatter’s Party confirm they had an absolute blast. Nothing less was expected. Get ready to devour Page 3 to Page 20 crammed with wall-to-wall coverage of the event that saw the city’s Most Terrific at their party best.

"Aapun Ka Party Kabh Hai?"

2011-11-05T13:13:00.002+05:30

Irony!Irony! The famous Bombay Times Anniversary Bash coincides with the CHILDLINE party for street kids. Both will be fun. B.T. has a theme - it's a Mad Hatters' Party. But our raasta bachchas will rock theirs without special props or costumes!
As for me, I shall be at Parle Katta talking to what I have been told is a very informed and lively Maharshtrian audience. Post that function, I shall join the Lit Set at the ongoing Mumbai Lit Fest. Must say Thomas Freidman left me thanda. And I am sick to death with his 'world is flat' bilge. Go get some rest, Tom.
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This appeared in the Asian Age today...

Statues Of Liberty!
I swear I am not joking! After a vroom vroom visit to Maya-land to watch India’s virgin F1 at the world- class Buddh International Circuit (BIC), I am ready to personally carve a brand new, larger-than-lifesize statue of Mayawati and erect it at a prominent junction in Mumbai. That lady is something else! I will also request Nargis Fakhri ( the latest Bollywood hottie) to perform ‘Behenji Badnaam Hui…” at the next F1. Come on, don’t you agree Nargis is far better looking than that weirdo Gaga with her tri-colour fake hair? In any case we vastly prefer our desi girls ( even if they are only 50-50 desi).Mayawati is my Babe-of-the-moment. After pulling off that coup (F1), Mayawati’s stock has zoomed at a speed faster than Sebastian Vettel’s mean machine could rev up. Suddenly, all those snotty Formula One fans from Delhi,Mumbai and other cities, have had to suck in their breaths and say , “Wow!How did she do it? HOW?” Mind you, no matter who else was involved ( yes, Shri Jaiprakash Gaur, we know it’s you!) it was Mayawati who walked away with all the credit. And hello! nobody wants to get into the nitty gritties. A few legal eagles ,, in on the myriad contracts, whispered not everything was all that kosher and that there were several wheels within wheels and deals within deals, with a whole lot of black in the lentils.Does anybody really care? Naah!With stories galore about Mayawati’s family members allegedly getting pretty juicy prime cuts on virtually every brick and bag of cement used, nobody blinked or minded. The reaction has been cool and blasé. “ Let them also make money, yaar. But at least India delivered big time for a change. Look at what happened with CAG. Paisa khaaya aur kuch bhi nahi kiya.It was such a disgrace.” Point. We are very sweet and considerate that way. We expect our leaders to keep their family members khush. It’s a given. If Asif Zardari was known in Pakistan as Mr. Ten Percent, Mayawati’s gang falls into the Messrs.Thirty Per Cent. Jaaney do. At least Mayawati fixed the Doubting Thomases who had predicted she’d fall flat on her face with the F1 . Advantage Behenji . As anybody who made a pit stop at the Budhh Circuit will readily confirm, this was an absolute coup. And the response ( even from skeptics) has been an unconditional thumbs up. Let’s not get ethics and values into the picture. Nor the staggering cost of getting the track and infrastructure off the ground.Point is, Buddh took fans by surprise. But more importantly, it took the motor racing world’s breath away.
The most interesting aspect of attending the historic Indian F1 was the long drive to the distant venue. A drive that took people past the famous 3,000 crore park with ‘those’ statues that have generated so much criticism and scorn. I passed the park four times. At one point our car was stuck right opposite the notorious elephants , lining the gigantic Dalit Prerna Hall. The first reaction to the elephants and the imposing Stupa-style structure was very positive. The design was pleasing, aesthetic and wonderfully conceived. What had I expected? I’ll be candid and tell you – I had imagined the much-discussed park to be a totally hideous complex crammed with ugly statues. Instead, what I saw was a magnificent ground dotted with handsome monuments made out of local stone, and built in a holistic style devoid of any ostentation. Mayawati certainly got this right, as well! As to why she is ‘wasting’ so much money on those statues? Because Mayawati is smart!She has vision.What she has cleverly invested in ( the park) reflects the aspirations and hopes of Dalits. It’s a beautiful space Dalits can finally call their own. A space they have never had. Never! A space that provides a strong sense of identity…that they can feel proud of. Intuitively and instinctively, Mayawati must have known that if she wants to leave behind a worthwhile, memorable legacy for future generations to enjoy, it had to be on this scale and on these terms. Good for her.
When one looks around India ( a country obsessed by symbols of power in the form of statues), whose figures do we see? Here’s a rough check list: topping it is, of course, Mahatma Gandhi. Followed by Nehru,Netaji, Shivaji and the odd Maharaja. You my find a Jhansi Ki Rani, Lal Bahadur Shastri, Tilak, Tagore and Patel. Ambedkar stands tall in more and more cities these days. Then on to countless Indira and Rajiv Gandhi representations.Nearly every important modern landmark is named after one or the other member of the Gandhi family - the mother,son or grandfather. Airports, and other public buildings are all taken by the trio. What about Mumbai’s Rajiv Gandhi Sea Link, which should have legitimately been named after Ambedkar, who was born in Worli, where it is located…. but wasn’t? What about the acres and acres of land in Delhi devoted to various ‘sthals’? How come nobody finds all of this ‘wasteful, extravagant, meaningless’? Mayawati is no fool. It is all about those numbers. She is looking ahead at the Big Picture, and what she’s seeing is obviously good. She is not waiting for anyone to erect her statues… she’s doing the job herself. She is shrewd enough to realize the power of the statue-politics. The more you erect, the stronger the positioning . Why wait till you are dead and gone for followers to get those statues up? Like Saddam Hussein or Col. Gaddafi, Mayawati is assiduously building her own personality cult. Let’s just hope her statues don’t suffer the same fate as theirs did . Till then, let Mayawati bask in and enjoy her international fame posing with the handsome young F1 champions.She’s finally in the fast track… who can stop her now??

Ra.None??? Tan tana... the promised review!

2011-11-01T23:03:00.002+05:30

Blogdosts, let's get a few things straight - the movie has made money. Does personal opinion really matter?? Naaaaaaah!
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This appeared in Bombay Times today....

What were you thinking, SRK?

When a hotelier scouts around for a new property, he keeps just one mantra in mind : Location.Location. Location. This is the only formula that works in that line of business. Similarly, when a film maker decides to make a movie, the only mantra worth following is : Script.Script.Script. After sitting through half of Ra.One ( I rarely leave a movie mid-way, but this one propelled me out of the multiplex at intermission), I was totally perplexed! SRK is one of the smartest, most hard working human beings in the film industry. How did he go so wrong? Could he not see the obvious flaws? Judge the mood of his audience? Tweak and fix all that was cringe- making and deeply embarrassing about his magnum opus? And let’s not get into the numbers game here and talk about how much it has raked in and how much more will be made once the hisaab kitaab is completed? There was much, much more riding on this film, than just box office collections. SRK knows that, too. His singular lack of judgment in backing such a mish mash of a movie makes fans gnash their teeth in frustration and ask what has happened to their superhero?Not only is the whole nerdy South Indian ‘Appa’ angle completely off ( come on, how many South Indian men shovel noodles with dahi into their mouths and keep repeating ‘Aiyooo’ in a fake accent?). But so was the Punjabi Kudi Kareena as a gaali researcher North Indian biwi! Bebo as the mother of a precocious pre-teen ‘Baba’? No way! The opening scene was so gauche and amateurish one almost expected a ‘Mogambo Khush Hua’, dialogue during what was meant to be a hi-tech, state of the art presentation in London. And why was SRK the Southie scientist wearing a gollywog wig and make up? How insulting! As for that dreadful sexist scene of SRK looking for keys buried inside a white woman’s cleavage , really! Gross.
The little boy (Amaan Verma) playing Prateek should immediately sign up for a range of hair products, with that glossy mop. And SRK should go off on a relaxing vacation. He has really earned it. Never has a movie star flogged himself this hard to promote a film. If only he had invested half that energy rewriting the awful script, the movie could have been salvaged somewhat. There were so many unconnected parallel tracks going on, it was confusing and annoying…. like watching half-a-dozen movies clumsily spliced together by an editor high on something very potent. Such a pity, given the potentially sound basic premise ( a father dying to be his son’s hero). But even that was ruined by the ridiculous mugging scene. Besides, if there is a moral in all this it is that special effects are no substitutes for a story. Ra.One is an example of how to blow up several millions – literally speaking – on so little.If kids are the target audience, wouldn’t they prefer to buy the latest video game with a more convincing plot? Poor SRK.It’s all about timing. So much déjà vu is bad for business.Had audiences not watched Rajnikanth as Chitti in ‘Robot’ (superb and similar special effects, plus an emotional track) and related to that character, Ra.One may not have received such a drubbing. Unfortunately, even young fans ended up saying, “Been there.Done that.”

Mayawati in fifth gear!

2011-10-31T13:56:00.002+05:30

Maanana padega - Behenji delivers! What a track! And what a race! I have been to quite a few international F1 circuits since my husband is an F1 fanatic. But the Buddh International Circuit (BIC) in Mayaland took my breath away.True confession: I went as a sceptic and was braced for disasters, big and small. But the two days spent in Noida were absolute eyeopeners. And I am not talking about just the Formula One event. Whether Mayawati ( India's original bag lady) or her brother make 30% on every deal cleared in her state is not relevant for now. Show me one neta who is 'clean' and I'll show you a miracle.Everybody takes cuts on everything - directly or through relatives. But not everybody delivers. Mayawati delivered big time. And going by all the massive projects coming up on both sides of the superb expressway, Noida is the place to invest in. As a real estate tycoon I met at a post-F1 party boasted, "I have already trebled my investment." I went gaga at the sight of Mayawati (you can keep your Lady!)! Vettel received his magnificent silver cup from our Behenji, but refrained from spraying her with the celebratory champagne. So impressed am I with Mayawati, I shall propose erecting her statues all over India... with or without the famous handbag!
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This appeared in the Sunday Times, before the race.

Vroom Vroom – Force India Vs. Farce India

It’s back to the same old, sadela story : Why Formula One ? Which India are we living in? The argument remains a constant. It’s the peg that changes.This time the peg is Formula One. Voices raised against the Indian debut of the world’s most exciting motor sports’ event are asking, “Do we need such a sport in a country that cannot offer potable drinking water to its citizens?” The answer is obvious : No. We don’t need Formula One in India. The operative word being ‘need’. Extend that to other sports and what do you get? Exactly the same answer. Do we ‘need’ cricket, tennis, badminton,hockey,football, weight lifting,archery? Can we really afford to spend millions on creating infrastructure to host international competitions?What about our pathetic track record?Have we forgotten the CAG debacle already? Why are we screwing up our priorities? Who cares a damn about those speed demons racing around a 5.137km long track at insane speeds? Why are we backing a race that only attracts the elite? How many people in India even own cars? What happens to the swanky Buddh International Circuit at Noida once the race finishes? What’s in it for us?? Valid questions. But we could pose exactly the same queries when it comes to any desi khel and khiladi. So, let’s drop it.
We have become experts at self-flagellation. And we happily allow ourselves to be flogged in public by anybody with an opinion. A lot of negative stories have appeared in the foreign press about the ‘inappropriateness’ of it all. It is either an ‘How dare India break into this prestigious circuit?”, or a snigger- snigger, “ Oh well…. the natives are restless again,” reaction. Most of the reportage has focused on the obvious contradictions and contrasts, and have been written by people assuming a lofty, judgmental tone. It’s the familiar ‘ Bechara India Story’ getting rehashed for the umpteenth time. The point being missed is this : It is not what Formula One can do for India.Rather, it is what India can do for Formula One. Let’s get that straight. India has the upper hand in this game. We have the numbers. And we have the dosh. At a time when Europe is reeling and facing one of its worst financial crises, India is the obvious destination to tap. And the canny man who runs Formula One like an old fashioned despot – Bernie Ecclestone – knows that. European circuits have been done to death. And even die hard fans are slightly bored. The last time Formula One was seen as sexy was when Singapore introduced the night race, with a circuit that snaked through the island state. Singaporean authorities were smart enough to extract their pound of flesh from the deal . F1 turned out to be a win-win situation for the hosts and for Bernie. The sponsors were left in a happy space , too, and got back more than they’d bargained for, given the high visibility generated by the event. Singapore tourism received a big, fat boost and everybody went home grinning. How India leverages this opportunity to its best advantage, depends on us. Let those foreign journos trash India for staging this extravaganza. Let a few countries issue travel advisories telling their folks to stay away. The truth of the matter is, F1 bosses know precisely why they are here – to make money. More money. F1 has been languishing for a while in its old avatar. No superheroes have emerged after Michael Schumacher retired ( and then ‘un’-retired). Much was expected from the wonderboy,Lewis Hamilton, who failed to deliver. And the new-ish kid on the block,Sebastian Vettel may be a devil with his hot wheels, but lacks charisma. Besides, all eyes will be on his team mate Mark Webber ( the Grand Prix Championship works on a complicated formula ) who is expected to bag the top slot at Buddh. That leaves our boy Narain Karthikeyan racing in front of a home crowd. Besides, strange bedfellows, Vijay Mallya and Subroto Roy, who have combined forces for their rechristened team which features Adrian Sutil and Paul di Resta.
Who will make it to the podium? Will the Buddh International Circuit throw up a brand new star… not an F1 race driver, mind you, but India? Will we be able to pull it off with the required panache and prove critics wrong? We have beaten Russia to it ( the Sochi Circuit built at a cost of 987.3 crores will be ready in 2014). And experts say, the Buddh track with 16 corners, 60 laps and an expected speed of 315kph, is one of he best in the world. But as we all know, F1 isn’t just about speed.Or cars. It’s a turbo-charged entertainment package.This one comes with Lady Gaga. It rocks!
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I haven't forgotten - Ra.One review tomorrow...

Padwa Greetings!

2011-10-27T17:32:00.002+05:30

I am debating whether or not to inaugurate my traditional Maharashtrian 'nath' today. It is calling out to me. But I think not!I mean, how would it look for me to wear it to Inox for a 'Ra.One' screening? Yup. That's my Padwa entertainment. Am hoping we will be 'entertained' over those two and more hours. The reviews have been consistently discouraging. Not that I base my response on reviews. I invariably like films that most reviewers savage. So, I'm going to watch SRK's magnum opus with an open mind.... and a generous heart. The popcorn had better be bloody good tonight. More on the most discussed \trashed movie after I watch it.
Right now, I am holding the handsome 'Deep-utsav' issue of Lokmat in my hands and feeling really proud of it. I worked with a fantastic, dedicated editorial team... and as Guest Editor, what more can one ask for but bright,receptive team members willing to go flat out and ensure the final product is amazing! The theme I picked was 'Power' , but not in the conventional understanding of the term. For example, I got Nita Ambani to discuss the power of a surname... and she did so in a candid fashion. Similarly, Amitabh Bachchan has spoken on the power of 'samskaar' and family ties. While Maharashtrian intellectuals and thinkers from Kumar Ketkar, Arun Tikekar and others have explored the many aspects of power... small town power, for example.Then there is the power of words ( Javed Akhtar ), the power of sensuality ( Vidya Balan ), the power of progressive thinking (Ramchandra Guha), the power of beauty ( Kareena Kapoor ),oh... it was challenging, exhilerating and exciting going back to my first love - editing! The Lokmat issue has been a sell out and is now in its third print run. So much for the power of Power!
Tonight is Padwa - or 'Husband's Day'. It is the Maharashtrian version of Kadwa Chauth, but mercifully, without the fasting - our focus, sensibly enough, is on feasting. This year I have experimented wildly with mixed flavours and come up with my own combos - top of the list is crumbled macaroons over spicy Kolhapuri Chivda made out of corn flakes! Bizarre? You bet! But YUMMMMYYYY! Try it! I dare you!!

Love and Light this Diwali...

2011-10-26T13:20:00.002+05:30

This appeared in B.T. yesterday....Diwali is quieter this year. More sober, too. As for me, I am very happy with my Krishna Padam (Amprapali). I wore them around my neck last night and felt strangely,sublimely at peace. Lots of diyas and flowers at home. Fragrant agarbattis and delicious 'faral' ( bakar wadis with coffee... what a combo!).
Tomorrow is Padwa. This evening's Laxmi Pujan will be very special - our first with Anansuya Devi - our ghar ki Laxmi!
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Let there be light… but less noise…

Happy Diwali, BT readers! All set? Taash-vaash? Kapda-shapda?Mithai-withai? Good, good,good. Enjoy it while it lasts – the euphoria during the festive season, I mean. It was obvious from the gifting-shifting this year that the insane prices of silver seriously inhibited even the most generous hamperwallas, who were reduced to sending wonderfully packaged nuts and choccies( not the same thing as chandi-sona). And of course, the very welcome and exquisite CPAA ‘Saloni’ diyaas that lit up so many homes every year (plus, help a worthy cause). Gold prices went through the roof as well, and perhaps for the first time in the history of the metal, platinum dipped and was cheaper than white gold! The brief buoyancy in the markets is misleading, so don’t get fooled by it for a minute! Given the dismal news from European economies, chances are, India will soon be adversely impacted as well. If I am sounding like Montek Singh Ahluwalia giving an expert’s economic view on the current situation, let me just say I met a whole bunch of really, really smart bankers at Uday and Pallavi Kotak’s spectacular Diwali party. Of course, it was exceedingly hard to concentrate on their analyses and forecasts, with all that razzle dazzle floating around. Any foreigner sticking his or her neck into the Crystal Room that night, would have believed it was a royal function hosted by a Maharajah given the jewellery on parade ( Kya emeralds! Kya rubies! Kya diamonds!). In a way, the person would have been right. Our successful money men are the new Maharajas. That night they were all there in full force, given the collective net worth of the people assembled in the aesthetically decorated ballroom. Shall we peg it at a few billion ?
Perhaps Shekhar and Neelam Gupta’s Diwali Party in Delhi this week will have the requisite Neta Power… but hello! In Mumbai , we look out for the glam wattage! Come on guys, be honest. Would you rather gawk at a gorgeous Kangana in a slinky gown…. or a Chidambaram in a starched ‘mundu’? I guess that pretty much says it all about the difference between Mumbai and Dilli!
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I just love Farah Khan ( the talented movie director) for being upfront , cheeky and honest. Who doesn’t like receiving ( and ahem, re-cycling) Diwali gifts? Farah sent out a straightforward sms ( I smiled when I got it) stating clearly that all Diwali gifts should be sent to her new address! Practical pointer… and I really don’t know what recipients are getting all huffy about! Why would any sensible, successful woman want pricey gifts to go to someone else?
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But this Diwali greeting goes out to Rockstar Ranbir Kapoor for his honesty. First, he clarifies he is single and not a ‘horny rabbit’ (which may be good or bad news for his countless female fans). Then he gets candid about the stormy relationship between his parents , Rishi and Neetu Kapoor, during his formative years. It is a pretty grim picture he paints. Most Bollywood types, the Kapoors in particular, have gone to great lengths to perpetuate the myth of perfect marital bliss ( come on… Raj Kapoor??). By going public about his trauma as his parents battled it out, Ranbir proves he is so today! He deserves his success ( he is hugely talented). But he deserves our praise for being completely transparent and telling it like it is …. or was.

Phoren Mamu at MAMI...

2011-10-22T14:36:00.001+05:30

This appeared in Asian Age today...

“ Which language do you people speak in India?Is it called ‘Errr-du’?” asked the dapper foreign gentleman, who had just been introduced to me as the main MAMI man. I was taken aback. But given the occasion ( one of Mumbai’s super- deluxe soirees), I was mentally prepared to meet all types. This bloke was being treated like visiting royalty, and shepherding him around was a prominent socialite.Who on earth was he? I still don’t know, and don’t care. Clearly, he was an ill-informed jerk. I nearly choked on my white wine, while answering politely, “Perhaps you are referring to ‘Urdu’ which is widely spoken in Pakistan?” He looked slightly annoyed, and said, “ It’s possible. Is English still taught here ? Or is it forbidden? Discontinued? Do you write in a native language?” I didn’t bother to respond. The man obviously did not know when to cut his losses and scoot. He must have been jet lagged, I reasoned, as he continued the barrage . Someone whispered he was a big noise at the ongoing Mumbai Film Festival.I should have guessed. Because, we had had a rather strange conversation on cinema , specifically on Bollywood . The man had pronounced pompously, “Nobody is interested in that sort of mindless song-and dance genre. If India wants to tap world markets, your films must change.” Oh really? And who the hell are you? I pointed out that our films were doing brilliantly across the world.Bollywood was one of India’s top brands internationally.The spectacular success of our films in countless territories was impressive enough to attract top Hollywood studio bosses and several global co-productions, ready to invest serious money. Bollywood was being assiduously wooed by ‘all those who matter’. I even threw in a few figures (confession: I made them up). He snorted dismissively, “But the overseas’ audience mainly consists of other Indians.” So? Their opinion doesn’t count? Their ticket money is of a different colour? “ Other people don’t relate to your films,” he went on, adding airily, “ You must change the format if you want to succeed.” That’s when I took off. I asked him whether ‘Crouching Tiger….” had changed its format to please Western audiences? I pointed out the gigantic domestic market for our films and how we really don’t need to pander.Besides, I thundered, what was Baz Luhrmann’s ‘Moulin Rouge’ if not a glorified Bollywood film? And why the hell should be change a highly successful formula that we have always loved, in order to kowtow to the West? Are Western film makers saying, “ Oh… we have a potentially huge market in India. Why don’t we make movies that please Indians?” Are Hollywood studios rejigging ‘Batman’ or ‘Pirates…’? to impress desi film fans? Are those guys thinking, ‘Maybe, we should try and change our movies around for the humungous Indian market?’ ” Nobody is saying that, right? Not now, at any rate. But soon, they will. That’s when we’ll have the last laugh. Just like the Taiwanese and Hong Kong film makers did. Indian film makers should stop trying to accommodate the likes of this rather obnoxious chap who is here as a VIP guest of MAMI. He didn’t have a clue about our country, culture, diversity, music, movies. But he had the audacity to express strong opinions and damn our films. How come? Because he can! Because he knows we’ll take it.
After listening to my bhashan on Bollywood, and why Bollywood should never change, the man admitted sheepishly and lamely, “I never said you should stop making those song-and-dance films. All I am saying is that your film makers should go beyond that genre, and make a different kind of film that speaks a more universal language.” By then, I was all fired up. “Have you seen ‘Monsoon Wedding’?” I asked, sticking my chin out. He had. He countered, “Have you seen ‘Water’?” I hadn’t. Advantage Mr. Goatee. . He asked a few more condescending questions that left me wondering why we pick such people for our Festivals. Worse, why do we give them so much bhav? Our Bollywood extravaganzas are unique! They are completely bizarre. And totally wonderful. We love them for their craziness. We know what we are paying for. We like the absence of logic…. the many absurdities. We worship our stars. And our mad movies have a profound influence on our lives. We don’t need to clone the West. We have our own specific identity. A legitimate and highly entertaining genre called The Bollywood Movie. Take it or leave it. But by elevating people like him to important positions at our prestigious film festivals, we downgrade ourselves. This is seriously depressing. Let’s stop being so damn defensive and apologetic.Our younger filmmakers are talented and bold. Their movies are speaking a new, creative language that is very much our own. Look at ‘Dev-D’, ‘Band Baaja…” ‘Manu Weds Tanu…” ‘Delhi Belly,” and a few other recent hits that have captured a new audience, but stayed true to themselves and the new urban reality . Bollywood movies have always touched an emotional chord in us, whether it’s a weepy or a nutcase of a film (“My Friend Prateik”). This is what we like. Leave us alone, Mr. Big Noise..
There are several ‘gyaan’ givers like this gentleman, who show up for such junkets. They know next to nothing about the host country, but are placed in elevated positions, given super fabulous treatment (Indians really do make the best hosts ), and while here, they think nothing of talking down to the natives as we hang on to every word and all but prostrate ourselves at their feet. Nothing personal against this chap. The fact that I didn’t bother to ask his name after that ‘Err-du’ comment, shows my utter lack of interest in the ignoramus. But it did bug me that someone as erudite as a Shyam Benegal would have to put up with this person’s inane, superficial commentary during the festival. Am I being super-touchy?? I don’t think so. “ Obviously,English is no longer taught in India,” was one of his crass comments. I should have said, “And obviously, good manners are not taught in yours.” But the annoying asli Indian inside me kicked in, alas. ‘ He’s our mehmaan , jaaney do,” I shrugged. I had given him a pretty hard time . So, sab theek hai!
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Blogdosts, here's wishing you a fabulous Festive Season ahead...

Inspirational.....

2011-10-21T12:46:00.002+05:30

My 'Inspirational Woman' - Bibi Russell with Antonio Banderas ( definitely my 'Inspirational Man') at an Awards' Function in Spain recently. Please note: Banderas is wearing the humble Bangladeshi 'gamcha' around his neck - a Bibi trademark.
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This appeared in The Week...

Inspirational Women of the World….

This was long overdue! The Nobel Peace Prize 2011 was sensibly awarded to not just one woman, but three! Like a triple sundae – three flavours for the price of one! Clever. And pardon me if I sound cynical, but it does seem somewhat patronizing to lump three ladies in one basket and expect the world to cheer. High brow commentators have described it as a ‘significant’ decision. Oh really? Why? Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Leymah Gbowee and Tawakul Karman are women doing extraordinary work, with or without the Nobel. The ‘significance’ however, is being linked to associating women achieving peace and development, while being given a major role in governance. This is something right thinking people ( not just women, mind you) have been fighting for over centuries. The Nobel is symbolic, yes. But effective? President Obama was given the Peace Prize too, remember? And that had automatically taken away the sheen from the Swedish academy that hands out the award. In a way, it had downgraded the Prize itself. Today, perhaps women across nations will raise a toast to the three female winners and start believing a lot will change in the immediate future. Karman, the Yemeni activist is a fine example of a courageous woman who took on the mighty. So is Gbowee, who mobilized Liberian women , Christian and Muslim, against rape and other brutalities in civil battles. Sirleaf, of course, is the first democratically elected female President of a war ravaged and notoriously corrupt country (Liberia ), who successfully managed a serious debt crisis and restored peace after taking over in 2006.
There are several other, equally gutsy women in our own country. But they may never receive the same recognition. Dealing with alcoholism and violence or even being at the receiving end of unspeakably savage sexual acts committed by men in uniform, is not new to us. But with activists being targeted and killed across India, it does require enormous courage to speak up and fight those in power. Perhaps, the Nobel Peace Prize will draw a little more attention to the contribution of women in healing, nurturing and leading communities that get battered during strife. Perhaps it will lead to a slow but permanent transformation within societies that have so far scrupulously excluded women from the decision making processes altogether. But I suspect that’s going to be a really long wait. Maybe, by the time my grand-daughter grows up she will be able to take far many more positive ground realities for granted than I ever could. In India, we display an almost schizo reaction towards women in power – we are either ridiculously awe-struck or ridiculously envious. Rarely do we respond to such women in a naturally accepting way. By placing a few on pedestals, does it help the others who are still struggling down there?
I have just returned from a memorable trip to Paris where I attended the very prestigious Veuve Clicquot Awards for Businesswomen . 2012 will mark the 40th anniversary of this award which was started in memory of the feisty founder of the champagne brand that bears her name – Madame Clicquot. Widowed at a desperately young age of 27, Mme. Clicquot took charge of her life and her husband’s vineyard, to make something of both. And she succeeded spectacularly! Since 1972 , only 300 carefully screened, hand picked women have been bestowed the award This year’s awardees were a fascinating mix of ballsy entrepreneurs , but the one outstanding feature that united the twelve women ( I happened to be the only awardee from India in the Inspirational Women’ category), was a sense of fearlessness… audacity, even. From a shipbuilder in Netherlands, a structural engineer in the United Kingdom, to a butcher from Ireland, these were women with great personal histories and leadership qualities that were obvious and formidable. And yet, when it came to emotional acceptance within communities, the narrative changed and hit familiar roadblocks. Being successful entrepreneurs and being agents of real change are not necessarily the same thing. How we assess ‘empowerment’ also varies from culture to culture. But one thing is a constant – faith. Every single woman I spoke to during the intensive workshops, believed strongly in herself. Armed with such self-belief, she felt confident enough to take on any and every challenge in both her professional and personal life. If only similar self-belief could be converted into an injectible virus, what an amazing infection it would make! Definitely,worth marketing those vials and starting a world wide epidemic!

My Friend Prateik...

2011-10-18T23:25:00.004+05:30

Some more pics .... i love these dinky French cars!
Would you believe the next 3 images are of an airport lounge??? Yup. Terminal 5 at London Heathrow is this spiffy! Well, at least the BA Lounge makes up for the mediocre flight experience.
Am off to Bangalore tomorrow morning. Love the city. Love the people. Hoping to catch Yeddu on the run somewhere.... ha ha!
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This appeared in Bombay Times today...

My Friend Prateik…
That I adore this sensitive young actor is a given. I adored his mother, Smita. And I see a lot of her in young Prateik. That is why I find it particularly grotesque to read reports about Smita ‘haunting’ Prateik… and not just him. Crew members have gone to town about sensing ‘Smita’s presence’ on the sets of ‘My Friend Pinto’, etc. This is plain disgusting. Exploit a famous parent if you must. But have the grace and good sense to leave a dead mother in peace. I watched a few , really sickening scenes in an otherwise enjoyable movie ( ‘Pinto’), and felt really , really sorry for Prateik that he had to go along with a script that so blatantly used his personal life and tried to manipulate audience sentiment ( he is forced to speak about his dead ‘mama;). Come on, you chaps. Are you that desperate? In any case, Prateik needs to pick his future roles with a better sense of judgment. How many times is he going to flog the poor Goan orphan, innocent and vulnerable, easy to use by bad guys who send him off on dangerous missions? How many times will Prateik be reduced to the stereotypical ‘Mac’ who keeps repeating, “What men? No men!’ and speaking a peculiar Goan –Hindi that does not recognize gender? Kalki, too, needs to run miles in the opposite direction from uttering those fake dialogues as a male ( Main thak gaya…. Main bahut angry hai.”). But the girl is like a poised ballet dancer ( ‘Singing in the rain’ rip off)
Prateik is a far better actor than all his combined roles so far. His range was evident in this movie as well, particularly during the singing and dancing scenes which were straight lifts of or tributes to old Hollywood musicals. The movie is disastrous in the first half, and one sees it going nowhere, with all those amateurish, untidy characters and wonky plot lines. Post –interval, it comes together somehow and ends on a magical, feel good note. If the film maker was attempting his version of ‘Hangover’, well…. that’s a bit too ambitious. ‘Pinto’ had its moments, of course. With a splendid turn by Divya Dutta as a boozed up, fading actress of yore ( watch her signing autographs at the bar for ‘fans’ ). Shruti Seth puts in a great performance as well – here’s a lovely, stylish young actress who deserves better. But it’s really Prateik who breaks your heart – those eyes, that mouth. Even the peculiar, high pitched voice that I hope he doesn’t change but converts into his trademark. He can sing, he can dance, and he can clearly ACT! That’s saying a lot more than can be said about a whole bunch of star sons ( and daughters, of course!).
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There’s no light at the end of the South Mumbai tunnel! This is Day 2 of going without electricity and water. Uddhav Thackeray says it’s a political stunt. I am desperate enough to believe him this one time! Disgraceful and scary. Hate to think of residents occupying the 25th floor of our complex. What happens if there is a medical emergency??

'Powerless' in South Mumbai

2011-10-17T19:25:00.002+05:30

Before I get to the grim news (power failure), here's something for you to exercise your grey cells. The Guessing Game goes on. But only for one picture. The second one, featuring 2 professional models ( at the time). It was shot for 'Femina' by the legendary photographer, Jitendra Arya. These are dinosaur images clicked in the dark ages. You have to guess the year...
And the pic on top is of two of my daughters, Anandita and Avantikka, clicked last week. I rather liked it. And have taken their permission before posting it here. Young Vishwaveer who clicked it, could make the cut as a photographer. Agree???
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The bijli went at 3 a.m. on sunday. It is 8 p.m. monday right now, and I am still in the dark. Along with thousands of others in South Mumbai. BEST (ironical name for the Electric Company that has let us down so badly!)insists it's 'trying' to restore power. Not trying hard enough, I'm afraid. I'm thinking about those living on the 25th floor. The elevators aren't working either! What happens during a medical emergency?? Add the sweltering October heat factor.... this isn't fun.

2011-10-15T11:50:00.006+05:30

Here goes... from the bottom up.... the group shot of all the winners taken at the beautiful vineyard, right after the vine baptism ceremony. Just noticed... all the Nordic blondes are together in a clump... and 'women of colour' like moi, the gorgeous Brazilian girl Leila, and the Egyptian sisters are grouped together. Hmmmmm. Interesting coincidence. Don't miss the dishy Stephane in yet another dapper outfit!
Oh.... that's the standing Baccarat chandelier I had mentioned in the earlier post. Magnifique, non?
C'est moi signing the VC Laureates' Book.
That's the jovial direct descendent of Mme. Clicquot after presenting a personalised, signed botle of La Grande Dame in the chalky 24 kms long, underground cellars of the estate.
And finally, the gorgeous Royal couple of Bhutan - Jigme Wangchuk 5, and Jetsun Pema his then fiancee , and now, the newly minted Queen. I'd shot this charming portrait at Pawan Varma, our Indian ambassador's sprawling residence in Thimpu, on the day the King had announced his engagement to his childhood sweetheart. Move over, William and Kate!
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This appeared in The Week...

Have women forgotten how to flirt…?

I read Julia Stephenson’s terrifically spirited ‘Spectator’ column recently in which she laments the death of flirting in Britain… and chuckled to myself. Forget Europe , where flirting is an art form and equally appreciated for being that, in India, the land of ‘naayikas’, and apsaras, we too are stupidly following the Brits and forgetting what it’s like to enjoy a mild flutter, create a delicious frisson, and for a few brief moments, lose oneself in that wonderful space that makes hearts go ‘dhak dhak’. Julia is hugely distressed by the coarse behaviour of ‘Ladettes’ – young ladies representing the ‘90’s , who mimic the worst Laddish (read: loutish) behaviour by boozing it up, rioting , brawling at pubs and vomiting in the streets. These women resent what they consider old fashioned male attention and often snarl at a gentleman opening doors for them or offering a seat in the tube. Julia feels it is this crude and rude response to traditional male etiquette that has driven British men to turn ridiculously timid! According to Julia, British men are too terrified to flirt!
Is that happening to ‘desi boyz’ as well? Are we turning our chivalrous, gallant guys into ninnies who refuse to make eye contact with a pretty girl for fear of being slapped? I was talking to a youngish woman recently, who admitted she has all but forgotten what it’s like to be desirable… attractive to the opposite sex. “Nobody looks at me!” she whined. And she isn’t alone! Like her, thousands of much younger girls crib they are feeling de-sexed and unappreciated. One of the main reasons is that men are scared of being accused of sexual harassment, particularly at the work place. Even harmless, appreciative compliments are not welcomed by female colleagues. These days, a man is asking for trouble if he says, “Lovely saree,” or “This colour really suits you.” Internationally, men have been sacked for lesser ‘crimes’. And women find it hard to recall when they last received a compliment from a chap. How sad is that? It happened to me (compliment!) very recently when I ran into someone from college. I was initially flustered, then confused, and finally abrupt! Poor fellow behaved like he’d just got a tight slap, as he hastily apologized and fled! I kicked myself later for my inexcusable conduct. But it was too late to do anything about it by then.
When I got home, I recalled a lovely encounter with a famous woman I’d spent time with in Delhi. I was there to interview her for a glossy and she invited me into her boudoir while she got ready for the shoot. I wondered why she was constantly dropping the pallu of her chiffon saree and then replacing it delicately over her left shoulder, all the while gazing at her image in a gigantic mirror. After the 30th time, I finally asked her if she needed a safety pin to hold it in place. She smiled, “Darling, I am practicing, it’s an old habit!” She went on to explain how she used the pallu trick to ‘flirt’. I found that amusing, if a bit tacky. But at least she bothered! Nobody does, any more. Not even young girls looking for romance. Most times, they hang around at parties chatting animatedly (even dancing) with one another. At the end of the evening, they crib, “As if we had a choice… did you see the men? Losers!” Poor men! Damned if they do, and damned if they don’t! So, I asked some of these accomplished ladies why they even bother to dress up, look terrific and hit the social circuit. Do they not want male attention? “ Of course,we do… but from the right guys.” Social interactions are so very complex these days! Where are these ‘right guys’ hiding? And what’s wrong with girls taking the initiative?
As Julia points out, flirting is not infidelity. Or even a prelude to an affair. “It’s more about joie de vivre than sex,” she states. I love the way she clarifies that Europeans view such flirting as ‘routine good manners’. So it is. Really!So, what about that little eye flutter, ladies? Nothing too obvious, mind you. Just a teeny weensy one to remind ourselves we are female and the old mating game isn’t entirely passé. But for us to pull this off, we also need men to be men… come on, guys, are you up to it?

Paris-Reims Mystery Solved!

2011-10-13T22:53:00.007+05:30

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Thank you for your patience, Blogdosts. So... here's the story. I was the proud recipient of the Veuve Clicquot Tribute, in the category of 'Inspirational Women of the World' . The Veuve Clicquot Businesswoman Award was started 39 years ago, in 1972, to honour the memory of the founder, Mme.Clicquot, widowed at 27 and left to manage her husband's estate in Reims.This prestigious award recognises the contribution of women in different spheres, with a special emphasis on entrepreneurship. This year, there were 11 other recipients from far flung countries like Brazil. Since 1972, this Award has gone to just 300 women.
I was very impressed by the solemn, dignified manner with which the ceremonies were conducted over two intense days. Workshops, brain storming sessions, working lunches, and of course, fabulous dinners and celebrations with the best vintages. But it was the vine baptism ceremony that I most enjoyed. And the awarding of the medal. And no, 'Another Kiran from New York', disappointingly enough,there were no gold painted men in loin cloths peeling grapes pour moi. Just Stephane ( last pic) dressed appropriately like a French country squire! The formal black tie dinner at Les Crayeres (third last pic) was when my Tribute was presented in the most elegant setting and matching manner. I'd like to believe I responded equally elegantly! And if you are admiring the standing chandelier in the second last pic, it is indeed magnificent. After all, it is in the Maison Baccarat. Sigh!
There are more pics.... but I don't want to bore you. Ciao for now!
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This appeared in the Asian Age....

"Only Raavans in India. Where's Ram?"

Okay. So we are done with burning Raavan’s effigies across India.And at least a few people are in a celebratory mood knowing they earn more than Rs.32 a day. As we prepare for the annual Festival of Lights ( even a single,decorated diya costs more than those measly thirty two bucks!) and discuss the victory of good over evil for the 900th time, we are fooling nobody. Least of all, ourselves. Let’s face it, we are in a mess. A terrible mess. Chachu Chids and Bodo Da Pranab can hold hands in public, even kiss and pretend to make up. But sorry… their overstated bonhomie has come through as a patently false and very unconvincing patch up. The kind one associates with high profile, warring Bollywood couples who appear together on reality shows to promote a new film, and dash back to their vanity vans the moment the shoot ends, to continue snapping and snarling in private. This sort of a spat would have been unthinkable a couple of decades ago. Politicos have always waged bitter battles against colleagues, but never in the public domain. Such incidents were shrewdly handled behind closed doors, much like joint family feuds. That two of the most astute and powerful men in the cabinet decided to slug it out in such a khullam khulla manner, suggests just one thing – there’s nobody in charge at the top of the heap. Anarchy within families generally gets out of hand when the patriarch or the matriarch is too weak to arbitrate and restore order. It looks like present scenario in Delhi is similar. The Patriarch ( Manmohan Tauji) looked and sounded bewildered, even overwhelmed by the sudden outbreak of hostilities within the fold. While the Matriarch ( Sonia Madamji) was recuperating overseas, and not in a position to intervene when required. By the time Madam came back and took control, the damage was already done. That she asserted herself immediately on her return, says a lot about her complete and absolute control over the unwieldy party that has been bogged down by indiscipline and ego issues for quite a while. The two jhagda-jhagdi stalwarts eventually managed a small face (and party-) saving photo–op, plus, issued loaded statements that required no decoding. By then, the chattering classes had drawn their own conclusions.
Dekho bhai. Life is ajeeb. And has a gajab kahani. But when those who run the show start behaving like errant schoolboys, squabbling in a football maidan, then even the most loyal supporters realize that the bimaari is far more widespread than it appears. Since the tough and enduring fabric of India has remained consistently intact because of the reverence we possess for the Great Indian Family system, it is but natural that we should suffer from a case of instant disorientation and experience a deep sense of disillusionment when the head of the parivar is seen as a kamzhor individual - someone whose authority means not a thing. At such crisis points, our belief in the maa-baap system ( that has kept us together for centuries) gets rudely shaken. Without a wise, mature, caring, strong Pitaji and Mataji, the family structure becomes scarily dheela. Problems start. Tiffs happen. Family disintegrates. Nobody wants that. Not even Manmohan Singh’s detractors. He was India’s nominated Father Figure. A benign head of the family, we believed in for the longest time. He just seemed better than the rest. Morally superior. Above and beyond corrupt practices , no, even corrupt thoughts. A man India could trust. Rely on. Not terribly ambitious. But sober, soft spoken and non-threatening. Someone capable of handling the many personalities and thin skinned colleagues in the chaotic coalition that was clobbered together ( and has miraculously survived so far). Let’s hand it to him – Manmohan Singh ‘managed’, where several others might have failed. His job description was never as sexy as Chidambaram’s or Pranabda’s. And the poor man was willy- nilly reduced to playing the role of Madam’s chosen courtier. This couldn’t have been much fun for the celebrated economist, frequently credited with having turned India’s economy around. But such was the rather unenviable image and positioning he was stuck with. Despite that, he acquitted himself reasonably well. Till the recent debacle.
It’s time for our favourite Tauji to go back to being the man India loves to trust. It’s a pretty difficult expectation to live upto. But if anybody can pull it off, it’s our blue turbaned friend. We like the familiar. Manmohan Singh is the familiar … the familiar fall guy. We’d like him even more if he stopped playing the fall guy and started kicking butt. How about it, Sir-ji?

Jhenda Ooncha Rahey Hamara....

2011-10-12T18:04:00.003+05:30

These two images from my Paris- Reims trip are meant to tease your imagination. It was a memorable moment for me... tres sublime, as the French would exclaim! More about this particular ceremony and honour in my next blog. Till then, keep guessing!

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This appeared in Bombay Times on Tuesday,11th Oct....

Can anybody explain the Malinga Magic….?

A really vibrant, well- traveled and very attractive Australian lady of a certain vintage, had stars in her eyes when I went to collect her from the hotel she was staying at. I thought she was blushing and teased her about it. She cooed, “What do you expect? I was in the same elevator as Malinga… he is soooo hot!” Wait a minute. Malinga? Hot? Apparently so. And not just ‘hot’ in the eyes of mature women. I have heard twenty-somethings gushing over the guy and screaming his name when he is playing. There has to be something bewitching about the man. But what? Charisma and sex- appeal are like that. It’s impossible to deconstruct the two. If Malinga appears an unlikely candidate to sweep the ‘sexiest man in cricket’ title, let’s take a straw poll right now. Hands up, for Malinga the Hottie! Did yours go up? Well, there you are. It can’t be the hair. It isn’t his physique ( not with that pot belly). It most certainly isn’t his sartorial style ( Malinga could pass off as the friendly neighbourhood coconut vendor ). So then? He isn’t even the best cricketer around! But , honestly speaking, he is certainly the most unforgettable one. Howcome? His errr… bowling action, for one. And above all, his rustic, natural charm. His individuality. He is a player fans want to watch. When he’s bowling ( or batting!), you can’t take your eyes off the guy. And with so many swooning females as his core constituency, Malinga should be getting a lion’s share of the juicy ads other cricketers hog. Mumbai Indians invested well when they put down all that dosh for Malinga. And what a thrilling Champion’s League win! Let’s wait for the next IPL… and more Malinga magic.
As for Shane Warne…. poor guy. This one is a goner! Crikey! As the Brits would say… a bloke who shares his girlfriend’s bronzer and mascara? Warne swears by Liz Hurley’s beauty products and readily admits to raiding her make–up kit. Ever since he hooked up with the luscious Liz, he has lost his original personality totally. While the weight loss is a good thing, the frosted hair, blush- on and lip gloss are a tad distressing. The old rough and tough Warnie has been remodeled by Hurley into a botoxed dandy. Next thing we know he’ll be confessing he likes wearing frilly knickers to bed! Since a wedding seems imminent,Liz must be working doubly hard on getting Warne into photo-worthy shape in order to flog the rights to the X’Mas nuptials – the bidding wars of the glossies have just begun.
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A huge round of applause to Preeti Maria and the IMC Ladies’ Wing for getting the legendary Bangladeshi Fashion Icon, Bibi Russell to show her impeccable collection in Mumbai. Bibi is an extraordinary person who has almost single handedly revived the rich weaving traditions of her country, thereby providing much needed employment to thousands of skilled crafts people in and around Dhaka. Bibi is a pioneering entrepreneur, and it is only appropriate that our own dynamic women entrepreneurs honoured Bibi in the city, before the stampede to their charity-led annual pre-Diwali extravaganza begins today.

17 Books that impacted my life....

2011-10-09T19:06:00.002+05:30

I wrote this for the 17th Anniversary issue of Bombay Times, because Deepali asked me to. Not sure too many people read it.... the profile of the B.T. consumer being somewhat different! But I so enjoyed writing it. The list made me reconnect with my formative years ... a time when young people actually read BOOKS, and not just text messages.
Now here's the tricky part - some work for my Blogdosts. How about your list? It doesn't have to feature 17 books. I'll settle for 5 ! Go for it, guys....
And if you really, really want to know more about what my Paris trip was all about... encourage me! Just a few short words will do... ha ha. But for now - no more champagne or foie gras!! Oooooffff... all those lethal calories!
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I really thought this was going to be one of the toughest writing assignments ever. Picking 17 books out of the hundreds that have been devoured, absorbed, internalized, digested and cherished!But… guess what? It turned out to be not just an easy piece to write, but a hugely pleasurable one! And the list presented itself on a platter – the choices were that obvious. It was during the writing process that the real fun kicked in… revisiting favourites from my formative years, and realizing just what a powerful effect those continue to have over my imagination even now. There have been several memorable books since then, but none with such a seminal influence over my head and heart. Not so surprisingly, a lot of them were written by women – from Simone de Beauvoir to Germaine Greer. Francoise Sagan to Amy Tan. Throw in Anais Nin, plus Linda Goodman and we have six outstanding books right there.
Here goes. And this is a list that does not recognize order, hierarchies, genres. It’s just a list that is personal and passionate.
1) ‘War and Peace’ . Published in 1869. Written with majestic sweep by Leo Tolstoy. I fell in love with Pierre Bezuhov while reading the book. And imagined I was Natasha Rostov. Rarely does a movie match the book. But in this case, it was as brilliant. Audrey Hepburn as Natasha!
2) ‘Anna Karenina’. Perhaps this was my ‘Russian writers’ phase. Vladimir Nabokov called Leo Tolstoy’s classic “ One of the greatest love stories in world literature.” Great love stories have to be tragic. Read this one… and weep for days.
3) ‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover.’ Irresistible! It was one of the earliest ‘banned’ book. So, of course , it had to be read! D.H.Lawrence created one of the most erotically charged illicit relationships between a titled woman and Mellors, her energetic game keeper. This book is much , much more than a ‘sexual romp’. But try telling that to the philistines??
4) ‘Tender is the Night’. F.Scott Fitzgerald’s perfectly poised, elegantly written gem ( before he wrote ‘The Great Gatsby’) has one of the most evocative opening lines ever about ‘a large, rose- coloured hotel’ on the French Riviera.
5) ‘Le Petit Prince’. Written in 1943 by Antoine de Saint Exupery, an aristocrat-aviator, it’s book one passes on to grandchildren and reads all over again for the 25th time, just for lines like, “One sees clearly only with the heart.”
6) ‘Delta of Venus’. Author, Anais Nin. Described as exploring ‘The language of the Senses’, this is sublime female erotica, or as critics described it , ‘the essence of female sexuality.’
7) ‘Bonjour Tristesse’ .Written by the then 18 year-old Francoise Sagan (1954). The precocious Cecile in the book begs the question – child or adult? Of course, it is Francoise herself!
8) ‘ The Fountainhead’. Show me one young woman who has read this book and not spent the rest of her life looking for Howard Roark!Futile, my dear.Utterly futile.Men like Roark exist in fiction alone.
9) ‘The Kitchen God’s Wife’. Amy Tan. Clever, sharply observed, heart breakingly accurate in its sensitive depiction of the immigrant experience.
10) ‘Sun Signs’. Sounds crazy. But Linda Goodman’s astro book changed my life. It has changed countless other lives! To call it scarily accurate is an understatement! Find yourself in this hefty, definitive tome.
11) ‘The Female Eunuch’. This book will always remain special. I met the legendary intellectual, Germaine Greer and was totally blown away by her dazzling thinking. Written in 1970, it soon became a feminist bible.
12) ‘The Second Sex’. Simone de Beauvoir. Glad I didn’t meet her! Superb writer. Sad woman. She famously wrote, “One is not born, but becomes a woman.” Do we have a choice?
13) ‘Gone With the Wind’. Margaret Mitchell. How dare anybody attempt a sequel? To that?? Sheer audacity!They don’t make men like Rhett Butler any more. Nor women like Scarlet O’Hara.
14) ‘The Golden Gate’.Vikram Seth’s 307- page poem, a love story, no less.Only a genius can pull off such a literary feat .Seth is a genius.
15) ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream.’ William Shakespeare’s vivid and delightful ‘comedy of errors’. If only our lives could be as easily sorted out by elves and fairies.
16) ‘Tess of the D’Urbervilles.’ Thomas Hardy’s exquisite prose! Compulsory reading for all aspiring writers. But such a depressing read! How did Hardy know that ALL women are sad?Perenially and essentially sad?
17) ‘Wuthering Heights’. Emily Bronte’s only novel, published in 1847.A brutal love story that destroys several lives.Come on. Admit it. Ideally,every woman should have known a Heathcliff once in her life. Even if, all too briefly.

Paris Je t'aime!

2011-10-07T22:37:00.002+05:30

As promised. Here I am at a pretty 'sadel' British Airways' lounge shared with American Airlines... which is equally 'sadel'. At the end of a long, long, day in Paris, with four different kinds of weather, what do I get? Yet another delayed BA flight! All that effort to get here on time after the nightmarish experience in Mumbai, where I was bumped OFF the BA flight, after an electronic check-in etc etc... on biz class etc etc. There was just a single, non-responsive office boy in the back room... not a single responsible person at the check-in counter. And the flight was an hour later! I was distraught and ready to commit harakiri since my first meeting in Paris was in the afternoon. It was the kindness of the Cathay Pacific staff that helped me locate someone from BA finally. Did that help matters? Naah! My next best option was to BUY fresh ticket on Emirates and wait it out in Dubai. But at least I made my meeting.... straight from the airport, I might add. In my travel gear, I might also add.
And here I am at CDG being told my BA flight to London is delayed.... and the connection to Mumbai is alarmingly short. So, the chances of my bags arriving home when I do, are looking remote. But am I about to buy myself another pricy ticket on Emirates? Am I totally mad?
With that, let me say 'au revoir' for now. The spectacular October skies over the Place de la Concorde made up a little for this mess. So did the outstanding Cafe Viennoise at Fouquet's on the Champs Elysee. I carry back with me the most sublime memories of Reims - at the heart of the Champagne district. More on what I was doing there in my next post. Let me just leave you with the tantalising tidbit about a special vine baptism ceremony I was honoured to participate in at the superlative Maison Veuve Clicquot that hosted the very presitigious annual Businesswoman of the Year Awards. Twelve international women in 2011. And only 300 others since 1972 when the first such award was given. To say the entire two days of meeting extraordinary women from as far away as Brazil, and as close as Egypt, was anything less than the great vintages we got to sample, would be doing grave injustice to the legacy of Mmme. Clicquot, acknowledged as a pioneering entrepreneur by all those who are aware of her fascinating story.

Taking a Bijoya Break....

2011-10-04T18:50:00.002+05:30

Have a wonderful Dusshera, dear Blogdosts. I'll be travelling out of India and may reappear in this space only over the weekend. But who knows - if I find myself with a couple of hours to spare at a busy airport in Europe, I may just pop up and surprise you.
Right now, I am off to the 82 year-old Pujo Baadi at the Tejpal to offer flowers and prayers to Durga Mata. I used to notice the artists who paint the Goddess' face used to take their inspiration from Hema Malini's visage till pretty recently. This year, they've switched to Vidya Balan!

Wanted:Gutsy Film makers!

2011-10-03T20:32:00.002+05:30

It's Saptami today. And the moon is looking beautiful! Last evening, entirely on the spur of the moment, I went to my old haunt, Waman Hari Pethe at Thakurdwar. And fell in love with a Devi Mangalsutra. I missed Ashaben, who used to run the store with great gusto, is now at the factory. Young Aditya Pethe runs the show from Juhu. I recall dealing with his grand father in the old days. What a personality Baba Saheb had.... and those three, major rocks glittering from the handsome gold ring on his long, elegant finger. To say nothing about his emerald shirt buttons. The manner! So old world, refined and courteous.... and then came Subhash Bhau. And now young Aditya!
After the mangalsutra, came the buying of gajras from the old phoolwali who sells them from a topli. A topli full of fragrance! A kilo of mogras now sells at a thousand bucks. A gajra, for thirty-five. Yellow champaks at ten rupees each! I missed my mother - I used to buy gajras for her from this phoolwali's mother.... the fragrance remains unchanged!
Happy Pujo! Ashtami tomorrow...
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This appeared in Bombay Times today...

Why Bollywood needs more gutsy film makers….

By all means fall back on the Khans and Kapoors when all else fails. But guys… take a good look around you. Things have changed. Audiences have changed. Today’s movie- goer wants a mezze platter, not the standard murgh makhani at the multiplex. In any case, the multiplex experience has transformed the way Indians watch films. It is the total package that counts. And that package comes with a hefty price tag. Going to the movies is no longer the cut rate, weekend ‘family outing’ it once used to be. Which is also why film makers willing to take a chance with modestly budgeted movies are doing well and walking away with the applause. Tigmanshu Dhulia’s richly erotic, cleverly twisted take on a classic (“Sahib Biwi Aur Gangster’’) is bound to find an audience large enough to make a respectable amount of money. He will also receive enough critical acclaim to attract financiers for his next project. In the bargain, the audience wins. This is essentially what the movie business is all about – a win-win situation for both - those who produce films, and those who shell out good money to watch them.
SBAG is a great example of what happens when a team takes chances with a potentially strong subject and goes ahead boldly, without worrying about signing up a star cast that does not feature marquee names. Jimmy Shergill, to all appearances has everything going for him as a ‘typical’ Bollywood hero from the old school – he is tall, fair and fine featured. His voice is strong. His screen presence, pretty effective ( remember him in ‘Manu weds Tanu’?) . And his acting abilities are far superior to those of some of his more successful contemporaries. And yet – here’s the bad news - Jimmy is not seen as a ‘star’. Which means, his name alone is not enough to attract canny financiers. Jimmy needs a set up in order to bag roles and showcase his considerable talent. If his performance in SBAG doesn’t do it for him, nothing will. Jimmy’s Bollywood story is a little like Vivek Oberoi’s. Vivek also had what it takes to make it big in the film industry ( including fantastic breaks). But Vivek was foolish enough to antagonize the BBBs - Big Bad Boys of Bollywood - after taking a panga with Salman Khan ( during his Aishwarya phase). That was it. Bollywood closed ranks and effectively choked Vivek’s career. Jimmy is different. So far, he has minded his own business, kept his head down and got on with his roles. With no known patrons or godfathers to back him , Jimmy has done it on his own. Good for Jimmy.
And good for Randeep Hooda, who wasted his early years in showbiz playing a dumb role – that of Sushmita Sen’s boyfriend. He was outstanding in SBAG, bringing the right mix of villainy and vulnerability to a tough role. But at the end of the day, a good movie works because of a great script. Period. SBAG may be seriously flawed on some levels, but Dhulia was working with great material – a crackling script. That is more than half the battle won in this crazy business. The real test will come with his next project. The audience is already panting in anticipation!
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Happy Navratri! Let those ghagras swirl…

Too Many Sacred Cows in India...

2011-10-02T12:38:00.002+05:30

It's been a fabulous weekend so far. I can sense Durga... feel her presence.... she is here, for sure!Even my frangipani looks happy after being whipped by the retreating monsoon. Last night's crescent hanging low in the sky, over the tranquil bay right outside my window, made me want to sing and dance with abandon!Did I? Well. Only inside my head. I spent a deliciously soothing evening enjoying an intimate dinner with Anandita. Today, I shall be 'Burbs bound. Haven't visited Bhawana in years. I want to touch the feet of her Devi.... stop by a Pujo Baadi. Mumbai always looks beautiful at this time of the year. With luck, I may even get to crash a dandiya raas celebration and enjoy Falguni Pathak's irresistible performance ( she is outstanding, and has been away from the city for too many years during Navratri). Khaman Dhokla, here I come!
Durga! Durga!
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This appeared in the Sunday Times today....

Too many Sacred Cows in India….

Lighten up, everybody!The sky is not about to fall if a Bad Boy cricketer from across the border has the temerity, the himmat, to say a few rude things about one of our national icons – Sachin Tendulkar. Tauba! Tauba! Even in his wildest dreams, the wild-eyed, wild-haired, wild-tempered Rawalpindi Express, the man who was once known as the world’s fastest bowler, the mercurial madman Shoaib Akhtar, could not have anticipated the hostile response in India to his recently launched autobiography, aptly titled ‘Controversially Yours’.This is plain ridiculous. Aren’t we over reacting to a comment that is neither scurrilous nor defamatory? Akhtar has said far worse stuff about himself! If the man was boasting about his fast deliveries, and their effect on Sachin, let him boast. Cricket history is not encrypted or classified info. The footage speaks for itself. Shoaib,the enfant terrible (on and off the maidan), is known for shooting his mouth off. If his autobiography does indeed take a few well- aimed pot shots at contemporaries, so what?Did readers really want a goody- goody book from this naughty-naughty man? Thank God, he has had the guts to say it like it is. Most other, cricket stars have penned the most bloodless accounts of their lives, opting for safe, over racy. Apart from the Aussies, who make careers out of bad mouthing team mates and rivals, most cricketers make lousy , darpok writers. Shoaib has shown spunk in plenty, and let’s be a little less huffy and a bit more sportsmanlike about his take on our Sachin.
We are a nation of particularly thin-skinned individuals. We refuse to laugh at ourselves. And we abhor criticism. We worship our heroes to a ridiculous extent. And are a bit too hyper- touchy if an ‘outsider’ utters a single negative word about our sacred cows ( too many of those, to begin with). Several biographies have been ‘banned’ by mysterious sources for mysterious reasons, because they do not adhere to the cheesy hagiography format we prefer. Any number of well-researched, credible biographies remain in warehouses because of arbitrary injunctions filed by interested parties. In the case of Shoaib’s book, we have gone a step further, by canceling its official launch,choking debate and effectively bowing down to political pressure. While Sachin is indeed a much admired global sports figure, to have fans holding ‘Sachin is our God’ posters , is plain nonsensical (Shoaib promptly retorted, “ He may be your God, not mine.”).Pity CCI officials in Mumbai beat a hasty retreat and canned the event. Had we shown more maturity and confidence about the so-called ‘offensive’ remarks, perhaps we could have engaged Shoaib in a chat-patta dialogue and given him the chance to defend his comments. What a terrifically lively press conference that would have been!
Our Sacred Cows are really lucky! Their followers do all the dirty work for them. Sachin himself has maintained a discreet silence and sensibly ignored Shoaib’s taunt, preferring to focus his time and energy on a different sort of move – the one to his brand new, five-storeyed magnificent mansion ( a ‘decent’home, is what he calls it) in Bandra. A destination that is bound to become as important a landmark as ‘Antilia’ or ‘Mannat’. By blanking out Shoaib’s zingers, Sachin has once again proved what a superb tactician he is – why open flood gates when silence works better? In any case, Pakistani cricketers ( and politicians) have consistently generated more controversy than our ‘Boys’. Take Imran Khan’s most recent book, “Pakistan: A Personal History’which is perfectly timed, what with Imran being touted as the next prime minister of Pakistan. It is not half as spicy as Shoaib’s, but there’s still enough masala in it to qualify as a good read.Will India ever get a neta to write a ‘tell all’ memoir?How about it, Chidambaram? Pranabda? India has a lot of catching up to do. But by threatening Shoaib and demanding an apology, we have only displayed our own touchiness. Sachin may be a national treasure, and a great cricketer. God bless him! But he gets handsomely compensated for occupying that position. Let’s stop behaving like miffed school kids and accept there will always be other, less adulatory opinions. Let’s learn to take a few barbs on the chin and sportingly face those demon balls bowled at 100.2 mph.It’s hard to believe, but we were the world’s number one cricket team till pretty recently.Sachin still remains India’s darling.The Rawalpindi Express got derailed long ago.

Sahib Biwi Aur Hottie!

2011-10-01T01:16:00.002+05:30

What a movie!! After ages, i watched a film that hit all the right spots - erotic, cerebral and emotional. A case of brilliant casting and a script that sizzles with every lush and detailed scene. It's always the script that's the real star - in any memorable film. No script, no film. Not all the big budgets and special effects in the world can make up for a lousy, flimsy script. And here's a movie with a modest budget, but with immense ambition - and the talent to pull it off. Only a gutsy director can come up with such an inspired ensemble cast. Jimmy Shergill, one of Bollywood's most wasted talents, finally gets to strut his stuff as the 'Sahib'. That he does so with delicacy and refinement says a lot about 'what lies beneath'. Mahie Gill as the Biwi, is passable, but is no aristocrat ( fire her stylist, forthwith!). She looks and acts like a wanton village belle, and one can completely understand why the Sahib shuns her. It is really Randeep Hooda as the Gangster who fills up the screen with unadulterated testosterone. As the Biwi's rugged driver "without any class", his supremely assured performance goes from brutal to delusionary, cunning to needy, with the sort of finesse one rarely sees in commercial cinema these days. His 'Bholanath' ( am i getting it right?), is a far more complex creation than the original. But poor Mahie is no Meena Kumari... and is the movie's weakest link. It is Deepal Shaw who is the real surprise package in SBAG. She puts in a convincing performance that goes way beyond her popular image. Unfortunately, the music is weak. But every single person ( i wish i knew the name of the actor who plays Jimmy's trusted aide), including the minister, the mistress, and the stepmother, adds to the rivetting narrative. Tigmanshu Dhulia has once again proved his mettle. A must watch film after a spate of over rated rubbish.

Paris Hilton: Famous for being famous?

2011-09-26T14:04:00.002+05:30

Our OTT coverage of PH in Mumbai is still on. Why we are treating her like visiting royalty,remains a mystery . Agreed, she's fun and glam.Hamarey liye yehi bahut kaafi hai, it appears. The lady turned up for a party in her honour at 1 30 a.m. when the invite read 9 p.m. Did guests leave or crib? Naaah. She made up for it by dancing on sofas with our local glam gals and blowing kisses from the dj console. Swwweeeeet or what????
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This appeared in Bombay Times today....

Paris: the Candyfloss Party Girl….

Paris is a social phenomenon. Rather, she was one. Paris is sort of over and so past tense in the West … but that doesn’t matter to us, here in India. So long as the person is blond, cute, sexy and considered ‘hot’ by a handful of socialites and fashionistas, everybody will flock!Good for Team Paris. Paris is no bimbette. She is smart and on the ball. Paris is primarily a businesswoman who shrewdly cashes in on her brand equity, which is fast losing its value in her original markets. Which is why she goes to China these days to flog her products.Which is why she came to India. Which is why she’ll go to Africa. These are the only markets left for fading celebs, and frankly, it’s a clever move.We provide a huge dumping ground to them. Whether it is her or her managers, they shrewdly picked a suburban mall to off load her handbags. The price points are ridiculously low, even by desi standards. So, the marketing team is obviously hoping to woo buyers who are happy enough to settle for a foreign label, even if they’d never heard of Paris Hilton till last week!Ironically, the supposed A-listers who made it to the ‘Paris Party’ wouldn’t be caught dead with one of her bags! That’s what sharp marketing is all about! And Paris sure as hell knows a trick or two in that department. She is hugely photogenic and has made a career just out of being photographed jetting from one party to another (she gets paid serious money to party with strangers). She has given everything a shot – singing ( critics claimed it wasn’t her voice in the first place!). Acting (that’s a laugh, since her worldwide notoriety comes from a sex video called ‘A Night in Paris’). Hosting reality shows in which she, the richie rich girl about town is exposed to the lives of poor people, and surprise, surprise, she survives!!
The Hilton surname does not hold much of a cache these days. That leaves Paris with her catchy first name. She should be eternally grateful to her mother for that ( the second option was China). The girl knows her P.R. as was evident in Mumbai, where she went the whole hog doing her ‘Namastey Mumbai’ act, and talking about her love for sarees, bindis and all things Indian. Then there were the standard clichés about India being a ‘magical’ and ‘spiritual’ place. We lapped it all up and begged for more, as chefs gushed about the 60 dishes that been prepared for her (does she eat?), and designers fell over backwards to offer free clothes. All this, for a woman who has no known talent ( she isn’t Lady Gaga, for God’s sake), and appears dangerously plastic. So what? We need our distractions, especially those that come packaged in baby pink. Welcome to India, Paris-ji. And don’t forget to courier a handbag to India’s number one Bag Lady, Mayawati.
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Why is the audience referring to ‘Mausam’ as a case of slow poisoning? Is it really that awful?

M.J.Akbar's lyrical tribute to Tiger Pataudi

2011-09-24T17:16:00.003+05:30

Byline for September 25, 2011
Tiger, Tiger Burning Bright
M.J. Akbar

In the loneliness of the small town where I was born, and the shuttered years of boarding school, dream was a five-letter word called Tiger. Mansur Ali Khan’s magic transcended the supreme piffle that passed for cricket commentary when radio, with a glowing green eye in the right hand corner, was our primary passport to Test cricket. Secondary knowledge came from the grey photographs in black-and-white newspapers; but the red cherry seemed to blossom when it was smacked imperiously in an arc that began with the single eye of the master and traversed along the hooded nose that had been designed by God for aristocracy. The radio went into memory. The photograph was lovingly preserved in a scrapbook along with peers like Neil Harvey, Richie Benaud, Wes Hall, Garfield Sobers and Frank Worrell. I kept the unassuming Worrell in that illustrious company not because he could bat, but because he could lead.
Pataudi’s inherited title was a bit of a two-way sniff. We certainly sensed if not heard his occasional sniff at the plebs; but the fun was that he heard our periodic snort at yesterday’s elite as well. By the 1960s a Nawab had already become an effete caricature, a piteous descent from the glory days of the 18th century, first reduced to a whining fawn of the British and then to a vainglorious hanger-on of post-Independence politicians. Even Hindi cinema had begun to laugh at the “Chhote Nawab”, unless it tipped towards lachrymose self-pity as Nawab Sahab auctioned off his precious heirlooms in Mere Mehboob to protect some immensely idle honour.
Then came Indira Gandhi. In 1969 she made Nawabs and Rajahs illegal. Their fury was as silly as their impotence. They learnt how distant they had become from changing India when they tried to challenge Mrs Gandhi in the general elections of 1971. That election anointed a new order when it lifted Mrs Gandhi to power. The new Rani of India was Indira Gandhi, the Begum of Democracy.
Tiger was as upset as any of his brotherhood, but he disguised any personal trauma behind a finely chiselled sense of humour that combined the riot of practical jokes with the deadpan of a British mask. He was the perfect Indo-Anglian, as comfortable in stately sherwani as in a hunting jacket on Scottish moors. If he did not belong to any Drones club from the fiction of P.G. Wodehouse, it was only because he carried a bit of Drones along with him. The strategy for his impish pranks was often perfected across a convivial bar, and secrets were carefully protected till long after the victims had been duped — harmlessly of course. It was tragic that the last incident in his life was a snub from the MCC, which refused to hand out the traditional Pataudi trophy at the end of an India-England series this summer.
The Indian prince was bound to English cricket by a silken bond. At one level it kept him on friendship terms with the new ruling class, just as hunting had done in the Mughal days. It also became an appropriate theatre for the display of regal talent. It did not threaten the British, and it did not involve too subservient Indians. It would have been demeaning for a Nawab to become, for instance, a rampantly successful business executive: even a blue-chip private company was not blue enough for India’s blue-blooded. The Army was an honourable sanctuary but demanded too much discipline for too little reward. Politics was an option, but required rubbing shoulders with the serf.
Tiger had an equitable relationship with glamour. He was not a hypocrite, so he never disdained glamour. But he never fell in love with his mirror, either. Many reasons have been cited to explain the comparative paucity of runs: he scored just six centuries. The popular theory is the tragic loss of an eye in a car accident when still at Oxford. I tend to believe that he just could not be bothered. Cricket was a game, not a religion. He did not sacrifice joy at the altar of statistics.
Pataudi became an acknowledged Tiger because of his sleek style, his calm demeanour at the crease until the moment came for the instinctive pounce. He also wore the smile of the Tiger, a quiver that only once in a while bubbled across his face. This Tiger had class: Royal Bengal, an epithet that Calcutta happily adopted when he married a brilliant daughter of the great Tagore family, Sharmila.
I wonder how Tiger would have reacted to the cant that has surfaced after his death. A shrug, a nod, a half-weary smile. He hated clichés, so could we please abandon rubbish like “Cricket has become poorer” etc. Cricket has become infinitely richer in both cash and technique since Tiger last held a bat. But the world has certainly become poorer since his death.

Shekhar Gupta's tribute to Tiger Pataudi

2011-09-24T12:14:00.003+05:30

What an elegant, informed and readable tribute. By far the best! Disappointed by the tepid response to the legend's passing away, especially from our current cricketing greats, the contemporary players, who make money by the buckets, but lack the grace to show better respect to one of India's best captains. All I have read so far are politically correct, polite noises , devoid of any reverence or humility. And most newspapers have given more coverage to that brat from across the border, Shoaib Akhtar's naughty autobiography....
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By Shekhar Gupta

It is because nostalgia is an attribute so essential to the love of cricket that so much cricket writing is in the first person, and tends to begin with those three dreaded words: “When I was...” Mansur Ali Khan “Tiger” Pataudi’s passing away gives me my excuse to start a cricketing story with, “When I was seven...”

So I saw my first Test match when I was seven. It was the winter of 1964 and Pataudi’s India were taking on Mike Smith’s ossible (6am for a 10am start) to find just enough of a perch to park your butt. You hung on to your jhola with lunch (paranthas or pooris with aloo and aam ka achar) and waited for the game to begin. Cheapest seats — which we could afford — were facing point or square leg, depending on which end the bowling was on. Any cricket fan would tell you that is the worst position if you really want to know what is going on: the place to be is behind the bowler’s arm! There were no giant screens for replays, the manual scoreboard was too small and distant to tell you much. So, you mostly cheered when the players of your team cheered, or tried to catch some radio commentary.

This match, however, was not expected to provide much cheer, as a dull draw was predicted (the five-Test series was an all-drawn yawn). But in India’s first innings (of 344) Hanumant Singh scored a hundred on debut, and in the second, Pataudi batted quite majestically to get his only double century (203 not out) in partnership with a very dour Chandu Borde who meanwhile plodded on to 67. For somebody at seven, and a tiny gaggle of cousins of about the same vintage, this was something to cheer about. But it was a long, long time ago, when I was seven, and I have very few, if fading, memories of my Test debut: as a spectator, of course.

But I have a couple of memories imprinted on my mind. Of one slim and fit (unusual for India then) Indian batsman pulling the fast bowlers, and sweeping the spinners (those shots were also uncharacteristic of Indian batsmen then, they were more English). There is one more memory: of one Indian fielder, only one Indian fielder, throwing himself at the ball, chasing it all the way to the boundary as if his life depended on it, and throwing to hit the stumps. Ironical that at

a time when Indian cricketers treated themselves as princes, shirt-collars turned up, and waiting for the ball to be thrown back by attendants or spectators, here was one man breaking that rule. And he was the only real prince

on the playground. It was not for nothing that a most famous English commentator (John Arlott? John McGilvray?) said that when Pataudi fielded there, there was curfew in the covers.

Memories that get imprinted deepest on your mind are the most unusual ones. That is why, Pataudi, the athletic cover fielder, is one that stays on mine. But he brought much more that was unfamiliar to Indian cricket than his willing athleticism. He brought a sense of aggression, and an intent to win.

Of course, the first Golden Era of Indian cricket followed his departure, and more or less retirement from national cricket. Vijay Merchant, then chairman of selectors, carried out what was then called a clean-up, made Ajit Wadekar captain, and selected Sunil Gavaskar — a prodigy at 21 — for the 1971 West Indies tour. That history is more familiar to us. We won our first series in the West Indies, and in England later that year. And as it always happens, the fall came just when we thought we had built a world-beating team. We hit a nadir with that 42-all-out at Lords, in a series even more disastrous than this year’s 0-4.

Clive Lloyd’s rampaging West Indies arrived on the heels of that English debacle. A 0-5 disaster was predicted. That is when the Board decided to recall Tiger from retirement. He had not played a match in over a year, but agreed to take the mantle. From day one, he told the team they were out to win, even answer fire with fire. Madan Lal and Karsan Ghavri were brought in to offer a two-man Indian pace attack probably for the first time since Amar Singh and Nissar in the thirties, and encouraged to bounce at the West Indies line-up that read: Greenidge, Kallicharan, Richards, Lloyd, Murray, if your bowlers got that far!

We lost that series, but it was the most stirring fightback in our history, until Bhajji, Laxman and Dravid brought about that 2001 miracle against Australia. From two down, India came level, only to lose the last Test, that Lloyd and Fredericks settled (242 and 104, respectively, in the first innings). But even there, getting to 406 in the innings, chasing 604, to avoid the follow-on was no disgrace. Pataudi’s own contribution was very little. Pataudi was just the full-time captain, leader of men, Tiger himself. And he packed a roar even in his cricketing autumn.

Better informed people will write a lot more about Tiger’s cricket. But since my journalistic periscope is mostly political, let me talk politics. Mansur Ali Khan Pataudi was our rare, in fact almost solitary, Muslim star in not just cricket but popular culture in an era when our secular temper was still evolving. Through the sixties, Muslims were not even usually picked in the national hockey team because they were not trusted against Pakistan. Ask Inamur Rahman, a most brilliant forward of his time to not play very much for India. Aslam Sher Khan arrived in Indian hockey in 1972 and Azharuddin in cricket in 1983. But Tiger, at 21, was drafted to captain a battered India in the West Indies to replace Nari Contractor, nearly killed by a Griffith bouncer. It was 1961, and exactly the year when one Asif Iqbal left Hyderabad (Tiger’s Ranji team) for Pakistan which he captained later on. Tiger Pataudi, though he may never have looked at it like that, became that symbolic link in the evolution of Indian secular thought. Remember, this was a period when our biggest Muslim film stars had felt constrained to take Hindu names. Dilip Kumar and Madhubala, for example.

I return now to the first person and the “when I was...” narration. But this was not several decades, but only a few weeks ago. I was chatting with Saif Ali Khan on a Bombay-Delhi flight and told him who I thought was the most talented member of his brilliant family. His mom, Sharmila, of course.

Within weeks now, I have to have a rethink as you read all the stuff on Tiger, and go back to your own memories. The man taught India aggression, winning, how not to fear pace, and achieved all of it with just one good eye. Now just how much talent would that have required? I may, therefore, be allowed to change my opinion on who is (or sadly, was) the most talented member of this family. I am sure neither Sharmila, nor her brilliant children, would complain or disagree.

http://epaper.indianexpress.com

http://epaper.financialexpress.com

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Shobhaa De
shobhaade.blogspot.com

Rahul Baba and his Mama Complex...

2011-09-23T17:29:00.002+05:30

Mumbai high society is gearing up for a seriously pink saturday night. Paris Hilton will be in the city to flog her handbags. And party. I am in two minds... what do you guys think? Go or not go?? I am tempted. I have always been intrigued by this strange creature who has made a good living out of.... ummm... good living! Her cv reads : professional party girl. And that's what she does for a living! Parties! Parties HARD! And gets paid big bucks for it. It's a tough life, folks. But someone's got to live it, right??
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This appeared in The Week.

One of the most unforgettable Bollywood dialogues remains , “Mere Paas Ma Hai,” and with good reason. Mothers have played a huge role in Indian society, and no matter how hard our desi men pretend or protest, at heart they are quintessential Mama’s Boys. No issues. If they think Mama knows best, so be it. But when the ‘boy’ happens to be a 41- year-old bachelor, positioned as the next prime minister of India, one begins to worry. One of the many text messages doing the rounds right after Rahul Gandhi’s ‘game changer’ address at zero hour, read, “Mummy ko aane do… phir sab ko dekh loonga.” Roughly translated, it says, “Just let my mother return… and I’ll fix everybody.” It was a reflection of popular sentiment. Now that Sonia Gandhi is back, all eyes are on her – will the ‘wave of anger’ turn? Will she assert herself and provide a reliable road map to a party that appears lost and confused?Most importantly, will she be able to get her son back on track, given that he is the chosen one? It may turn out to be Sonia’s toughest challenge to date. Not just as the mother of a young man who is about to don the prime minister’s mantle, but also the mother figure to a party of old men. Imagine the irony of it all. Most of those seeking her guidance are far older than she is. They too have been behaving like mixed up adolescents pining for a mataji to come home and take charge. This is not just comical but also very telling. Jayalalitha has been addressed as ‘Amma’ for the longest time, ever since she hit her forties. That too, by grown up guys in their fifties and sixties! For some hard to decode reason, Mayawati is addressed as Behenji and Mamata Banerjee as ‘Didi’. And ‘sister’ they shall stay.While Sonia is ‘Madam’ to one and all, her role is that of a stern, autocratic matriarch who rules over a large and chaotic family. Greying men seek her counsel unabashedly. While Rahul’s contemporaries are happy to play little boys in her presence. It was astonishing to note how the party elders regressed during her long absence and refused to take a strong position, perhaps afraid of the consequences. It was left to Rahul to finally accept the challenge and address the nation. It was seen as a tactical error by political experts, and he was mauled by critics.But someone had to do the dirty job and who better than the heir?
Being Sonia Gandhi was never easy. Not even when she was just the glamourous Italian bahu of the famous Gandhi family. Today, her role is still more complex and vulnerable.It’s a ‘damned if she does and damned if she doesn’t’ situation. If party bosses had carried on jauntily during her illness, people would have gloated, “See… that’s how dispensable she is.” But by reminding the country that all major decisions were on hold, awaiting Madam’s clearance, the party once again demonstrated its crippling dependence on one woman – Sonia.
A major crisis looms. If Rahul’s leadership is not unconditionally (and immediately) accepted, if Sonia is not in a physical condition to take full control of day-to-day issues, there will be an obvious and alarming vacuum. Who’s going to fill it? How soon?If an alternative is not identified and announced within the next few weeks, it will lead to demoralization and disappointment. Team Anna had gone to town with the Bharatmata imagery. It was a shrewd, calculated move to leverage India’s mother fixation. When citizens were repeatedly told they were protesting in order to uphold the honour of the motherland, it struck a strong emotional chord. Whether it’s our villagers or the educated middle class, one thing is instantly understood – protecting a mother’s dignity. Anybody challenging that, is seen as an enemy. Within the party, that’s also how Sonia is perceived. To attack her is to attack your own mother. It’s a delicate situation that the Congress bosses will have to skillfully negotiate as plans for the 2014 Elections get crystallized. If Sonia chooses to play a less assertive role due to health reasons, what happens to Rahul? Not to worry, folks. There is a solution in sight. The name is Priyanka. She can play mentor to not just her brother, but the party , too. Rahul’s trump card is here! And the new dialogue can then read : ‘Mere Paas Behen Hai.”

There is beauty in everyone....

2011-09-19T22:45:00.002+05:30

This is a self portrait shot by Gautam when he was just nineteen.He taught himself photography by shooting himself in the mirror of his armoire, which was - and remains - next to a window through which natural light streams in. Some of my best pictures have also been shot in this exact spot by him.
I swear Gautam would have found beauty within Narendra Modi, India's prime ministerial aspirant, too ! He was that generous!!
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I have written this tribute for Forbes...

A few weeks ago, I was being photographed by one of today’s hot shot lensmen. The new breed. The guys in designer gear who arrive with an entourage of more than eight assistants and demand star treatment from magazine editors who hire them. At the end of the impersonal, brisk shoot with hardly a single meaningful exchange of words between the moody, scruffy photographer and moi, I turned to the stylist on the shoot and said, “That’s it? Are we done?” I didn’t want to linger for a single extra moment or even ask to see the images on the computer. I could as well have been shot by a robot. I don’t remember the man’s name. I wonder if mine registered with him. It was a job. We’d got it done. Finished. No time for small talk. No time for gup-shup. No time for something as basic as politeness. Time most certainly is money for this lot. Pack up was announced. The assistants fluttered around, putting away reflectors and lights that weren’t used (but paid for).
And I thought of Gautam.
Invariably dressed in a simple, comfortable white kurta-pyjama. Never rushed. Always chatty and cheerful. Unfailingly courteous to one and all — be it a gawky , desperately young first time model, or a Forbes’ List billionaire. No wonder he retained his position as an ace portraitist. No wonder people lined up to get themselves photographed by him. No wonder Gautam was a legend.
In a way, I bullied my cousin into getting ‘professional’ about his hobby. “Start charging for your pictures,” I suggested. That was over twenty-five years ago. He looked aghast. He was genuinely horrified. This was when he was working at Lintas, after a short stint as a lecturer of chemistry, and shooting for fun.
At the time, there were three or four outstanding, world class commercial photographers working in Mumbai. There was the cerebral snob, Jehangir Gazdar, who flew his own plane. Mitter Bedi, who specialised in industrial photography, Ashwin Gatha who went overseas and did very well as a fashion photographer, ‘Balsi’ (Balsara) who died young, and ‘Obi’ (Oberoi), who disappeared into the Lonavala hills and took to horticulture.
Gautam soon joined the Big Boys, but instead of picking the far more lucrative route via advertising campaigns, he decided to concentrate on magazine work, especially shoots involving movie stars. There was a time when a cover shot for top film glossies could not be assigned to anybody but Gautam. Stars were prepared to wait, take flights, change their schedules, change their entire personality if needed, to be photographed by Gautam. This was especially true of newbies in Bollywood, who believed a portfolio shot by Gautam was as good as a passport to instant fame. Many times, it was! Gautam’s reputation as a star maker was firmly established by then.
His early shoots with Smita Patil, Shabana Azmi, Sridevi, Rekha, Kaajol, Aishwarya Rai and most famously, Madhuri Dixit, did not just accelerate Gautam’s career but created a big buzz around his lovely leading ladies as well. He was crowned the Pharaoh of Faces!
A few years down the line, Gautam graduated from shooting movie stars and models, to photographing personalities. From J.R.D. Tata to Lata Mangeshkar, he managed to cover an impressive gamut of celebrities, including a few famously reticent individuals. How Gautam managed to relax these mighty individuals is another story. And this is where his genius comes in. Gautam was a remarkably intuitive person, who knew exactly which buttons to press, especially when he sensed his subject’s shyness or self-consciousness.
Gautam’s greatest gift as a photographer was that he saw beauty in everybody he photographed. And so genuine was this attribute, he made each and every one of his countless subjects feel beautiful… look beautiful. Momentarily, people forgot their flaws, big and small, and lulled themselves into believing they were indeed special… alluring… attractive. Or at any rate, worth a second look. What may have started out as a mere technique to relax those in front of his lens, soon became an intrinsic part of Gautam’s character.
From the hundreds of mails I have received since he passed away, most have been from regular people narrating a sweet, touching incident with Gautam playing a stellar role. Almost without an exception, these spontaneous mails talk about how he made people feel, not just look.
Everybody left his studio with a big smile, convinced they were indeed stars, if not in the movies, than in their own eyes. How absolutely wonderful!
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When celeb 'shaadis' go phut....

2011-09-18T22:52:00.002+05:30

I was delighted when Nana Chudasama, the Chairman of Giants' International, a 39 -year-old social service organisation, promptly accepted my suggestion to honour Gautam Rajadhyaksha, posthumously, by giving him this prestigious award, four days after his sudden demise. Thank you, Nana. It was a grand function, as always, with a host of deserving receipients, like veteran TV anchor Vikram Chandra, media moghul Ronnie Screwvala, actor Farhan Akhtar, prominent doctors, educationists and of course, my old friend Y.K. Sapru of the Cancer Patients Aid Association. Gautam would have been delighted with the award... it would have meant a lot to him... such a pity, it came this late.
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"The perils of living in a fish bowl " reads the headline for my column in the Sunday Times .... and this is the one I gave. Which one do you prefer??? :

"When celeb ‘shaadis’ go phut…."

Show me a person who doesn’t salivate over ‘salacious gossip’, and I’ll show you a bore! Come on… it’s human nature to want to know the dirty details about your neighbour, his wife, his kids, even his pet dog. That wonderful desi phrase: whyfor you are wanting to poke your big ,fat nose into other people’s lafdas? No other kaam-dhanda or what?’demands a candid response, “Frankly, no yaar! I am pretty faltu these days… tell me more.”As of now, the presswallas are pretty divided and the jury is out on how much coverage to give dishy C.M. Omar Abdullah’s official announcement ( he has split from Payal,his wife of 17 years). The rather silly argument is : “But it’s a personal matter… is it of national importance?” Ummm. Is Salman’s surgery of national importance? Does it impact India’s economy if Sheetal Mafatlal waltzes off with jools and canvases worth crores from her marital home, that may or may not belong to her? Does the future of Kingfisher Airlines change if Siddhartha Mallya marries Deepika Padukone? Will India go into deep shock and depression if the number one ‘It Girl’ of today, Vidya Balan goes public with a ‘dirty’ secret? It’s time to grow up and smell the spicy rassam. There is hardly anybody one earth who isn’t curious about what’s going on in the lives of public figures. Good looking, high profile public figures, at that. Omar Abdullah is almost a movie star. He has been the poster boy for the Congress Party ever since he jumped into the political arena. His father, Faroouq Abdullah, remains a rakishly attractive senior citizen, with a colourful reputation he has never bothered to hide. Omar’s tabloid credentials, in that sense, come from an impeccable lineage. And I am glad he has taken the best route available to celebrities caught in such sticky circumstances. Omar took the wind out of media sails by being upfront about the status of his failing marriage. This is how it is handled by mature, modern, clever people. Why wait for the muck to start flying? Why not pre-empt the inevitable coverage by making the announcement yourself and in the most dignified way possible? Why run away from what is already in the public domain?
Omar Abdullah has shown the way. Link-ups,break-ups,patch-ups, happen. Nobody is interested in these kahanis if the main protagonists are non-entities. But as soon as a person chooses the harsh glare of the spotlight, it’s time to kiss privacy goodbye. A celebrity can’t have it all – incandescent fame and a reclusive life. Unfortunately, the two (fame and zero privacy) are inter-linked. The Omar-Payal story read like a fairytale about today’s progressive India, given the assorted faiths and nationalities involved in the alliance. If the marriage and the arrival of two beautiful children , received extensive coverage in the press at the time without anybody squawking, ‘ But is it of national interest?’, why not just shut up and treat the impending divorce in the same spirit? Tabloid journalism across the world spares nobody. Look at how the media handled Arnie S and Tiger Woods when their marriages fell apart , publicly and rather horribly, with charges and counter charges ? Those men had no choice but to take it on the chin and move on with their lives and careers. So it shall be for Omar. It is entirely up to him and his estranged wife Payal how they handle the after math of the recent announcement. If they choose to wash dirty linen in public, you can bet there will be any number of takers.Scratch the surface and we are all voyeurs, living vicariously, feeding off stories about famous people’s fortunes and misfortunes. Forget the moral huffing and puffing. As we say in the media - brutally and crudely – a story is a story. Deal with it.

Happy Birthday, Gautam!

2011-09-16T16:23:00.002+05:30

A few minutes from now, I'll be heading to Gautam's studio-cum-home. It's his birthday. He would have spent it in Pune, amidst great dhoom-dhaam, inaugurating the Symbiosis School of Photography - his dream project. We shall gather for a few hours, his friends and admirers... listen to Maria Callas, talk about him with love... a lot of love. And then go home... back to our lives, our routines, our families, our obligations. C'est la vie... shrug the French philosophically. Yup. That's life.
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This appeared in the Hindustan Times on the 14th...

There are photographers. And there are great photographers. Gautam Rajadhyaksha was a great photographer. Not because he was the best. But because he made his subjects look their best. I don’t know of a single person privileged enough to be photographed by Gautam who didn’t emerge from his studio feeling – and looking - like a million bucks! It was this special ability of his, to transform fairly ordinary looking people into divine, sublime, ethereal creatures that was incomparable. In fact, his portfolio shots of aspiring models and actors were often so stunning, potential clients would look crest fallen when they actually met the same persons in the flesh. For all that gloss, there were no tricks involved. No gimmicks. Nothing more complicated than understanding the single most important aspect of photography – light. Gautam had mastered light, and nobody could compete with him when it came to lighting a face…. and almost miraculously finding that unique something about the individual, which others could not see, but he somehow managed to capture.
For me, he was the younger brother I bullied into taking up professional photography, and later writing. Out of selfish motives, of course. Why waste in-house talent, I argued, when he was reluctant initially. Once pushed, there was no looking back! He became the absolute darling of top movie stars who refused to be photographed by anybody else. It was said, Gautam had the magic touch. If he photographed an aspirant, that was as good as a ticket to big time. I can recall several early shoots, notably with Kaajol and Tina Ambani. Apart from those unforgettable images of legends like the Mangeshkar sisters, Sachin Tendulkar, J.R.D.Tata, Dhirubhai Ambani, M.F.Husain, Rekha, the Bachchan family and several other personalities, all of whom became his life long friends.
That he died almost literally with a camera in his hand, speaks a lot about his commitment to his art. Some of the pictures he shot as recently as yesterday, have yet to be downloaded. But for those of us who spent so many glorious hours listening to operatic arias, while he cajoled us to give just one more shot, another smile, a different angle… go the extra mile for that perfect image, Gautam shall remain not just in our hearts, but also in our living rooms as we flaunt his portraits with as much pride as others flaunt their paintings. Why not? Gautam was indeed a master… and so shall he remain, the undisputed King of Portraiture.

The Man with the Magic Lens....

2011-09-15T00:02:00.002+05:30

Last night after I got home from Gautam's funeral, I told myself 'this is not the time to cry... just get to your laptop and do what you have to do. Write those tributes... you owe him that much'. There were 8 requests pending from various newspapers. The deadline was the same for all - 9.30 p.m. It was close to 8 p.m. when I started writing the first of 6. The one you are reading here was the last one to be sent off. That's because the editor, Siddharth Vardarajan of The Hindu, had very kindly extended his deadline by half an hour. It was well past 1 a.m. when I finally switched off my cell phone and called it a night. It was one of the longest nights of my life. Gautam... and dead?
Extraordinary... there has been an avalanche of condolences from across India, across the world...all of today. I knew Gautam was loved and admired. But even I didn't realise just how much.I received calls from people I haven't been in touch with for years. People who may have met Gautam once... twice. But he had touched their lives and left a lasting impact. If you ask me, it was his innate goodness as much as his huge talent that people responded to. As I was framing the obituary for the Times of India , I asked Virginia, a mutual friend, to locate appropriate lines from Puccini's 'Tosca' ( Gautam's favourite opera). She found them swiftly (google, zindabad!)... and here they are : "I lived for my art... I lived for love...I never did harm to a living soul..." . Perhaps, Gautam is singing the same aria for the angels right now...

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This appeared in The Hindu today....

The Man with the Magic Lens….

Gautam Rajadhyaksha was an accidental photographer. For a man who started his career as a lecturer in chemistry, and then went on to become one of the most celebrated photographers of our time, Gautam’s love affair with the camera could well be described as a guilty passion! But once he was up and running, after a stint at Lintas, Gautam rapidly established himself as The Chosen One. From Rekha to Amitabh Bachchan, from J.R.D.Tata to Sachin Tendulkar, Gautam captured them all. And did so with such simplicity and elegance! This was really his signature – the uncomplicated, divinely lit, perfectly framed portrait that went beyond a mere ‘ ‘pretty picture’ and managed to steal an elusive aspect of his subject’s personality. Astonished editors would often wonder what it was about Gautam… what was Gautam’s ‘jadoo’? How come he made everybody look so damned gorgeous? The truth is, there was nothing more complicated behind his artistry than enormous sensitivity and high intelligence. Gautam instinctively decoded his subjects. He was the quintessential people person. To be in his warm and homely studio was to feel you were at home – and indeed his studio was also is home! Most professional photographers treat their subjects as objects. Like it is a job that has to be done, and done quickly. Gautam gave each and every person in front of his lens, the same level of leisurely attention and utmost respect. He’d be the reassuring uncle with a nervous model, and a firm grandpa with a child artist. And when it came to movie stars, Gautam would switch between a fastidious school teacher demanding good grades to a conspiratorial best friend, relaxing everybody in the studio with dollops of harmless gossip. This ability to disarm even the high and mighty, led to some brilliant photo shoots which caught the celebrity off guard. And yet, these were not candid shots! These were carefully calibrated images, which Gautam had visualized inside his head much before the celebrity’s arrival.
We were close. Gautam was a confidante and friend before he was a cousin. I had pushed him into a career in photography at a time when he was a little diffident about his ability to make it in a fairly competitive and uncertain profession. We would both laugh about our middle class hang–ups and insecurities. Appreciation was very important to him and he valued feedback from those whose opinions counted. His scholarship and knowledge remain unparalleled in the world of Indian photography. Watching the new breed of what he termed, “digital photographers’, he’d analyse gimmicky, stylised images in the glossies and immediately point out the technical flaws. And yet, there was zero resentment. If anything, Gautam had grown into a benign father figure who willingly extended support and help to anybody who approached him. As the Guru of Portraiture, Gautam has no equal. It’s such a pity he passed away three days before a very significant date – Gautam was to turn 61 on the 16th of September, and the occasion was to be marked by the opening of the Faculty of Photography at Symbiosis, Pune. He had been working tirelessly for the past two years on setting up this ambitious project. It was a dream that remained unfulfilled for a man who made the dreams of countless people come true when he turned them into stars through the magic of his lens.

Sharam Karo,Bhai.... Sharam Karo!

2011-09-11T20:35:00.002+05:30

The tides have been unusually high today. Which may be either good news or bad news for the Ganpatis going into the swirling waters for Visarjan. I feel sad and sentimental saying good bye to Mumbai's favourite deity. I used to stay awake till 3 a.m. in the past to watch the magnificent Lalbaugh Chha Raja on his last journey. These days I prefer to meet him when he presides in his pandal. I managed a rendez -vous after midnight three nights ago, and came away overwhelmed. He has that effect on devotees. All that I wished to tell him remained mostly unsaid, as I stared and stared and stared wordlessly, carried away and awe struck in his mighty presence. The power this deity commands has to be experienced.... for close to an hour after leaving the pandal, my heart was still racing and I could think of nothing but his glorious visage. Next year, is next year. I feel blessed this year. That's good enough!
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Amitabh Bachchan was gracious enough to make time for Aparna Velankar, even though it was a hectic day and the roads around 'Janak' ( his office) must have been jam packed , what with all the Ganesh pandals in the vicinity. But... and here's an important 'but'. Such is his attention to detail, he got the ever-efficient Rosy from his office, to re-schedule the original appointment, pointing out thoughtfully to Aparna that the roads would be even more crowded with Gauri-Ganpati visarjans that day. Meticulous would be an understatement to describe Mr. Bachchan's style of functioning.That's something to learn for all those ill-mannered movie brats who think nothing of keeping people waiting for hours and hours while they 'relax' in vanity vans and ping away during important interviews. After all that, the Big B also found the time to blog about the appointment and share the experience with his faithful followers.The topic I had in mind for him ( The power of 'sanskaars')is going to be the highlight of the Deepavali bumper issue I'm editing for Lokmat this year.
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This appeared in Asian Age on saturday....

Sharam Karo, bhai, sharam karo….

Yup.It happened.The nineteenth terror attack on the Capital in fifteen years. So far, the body count is 12 deaths and 90 injured. By the time someone takes the trouble to total it all up, India will have moved on ( 24 hours later, most people already have), and those who don’t live in Delhi will shrug and talk about ‘intelligence failure’, ‘security lapses’, ‘crisis in leadership’. Out-of-work movie stars will tweet away, offering prayers and condolences, and television anchors with grim faces will attempt to grill the usual suspects, embarrass a few and reprimand the rest. There it shall remain. Manmohan Tauji will tut tut ‘It’s a long war’ and beseech the ‘People of India to stand united’, remain ‘calm’ . Chidambaram Chhacha will issue some more somber sounding statements( does he just recycle them from a master list?). And that will take care of the situation… till the next blast… and the next. And till such time as every Wednesday will make Indians fear it may be another Black one. There is something called immunity. Just as cockroaches, dog ticks, certain strains of bacteria stop responding to powerful drugs and pest control chemicals, human beings too develop a resistance to acts of terrorism. How many times can we go ‘Hai Hai’ and beat our breasts? Those responsible for the safety and security of the nation count on just that. This ain’t America , boss. Nor is it Australia. Or any other country that has declared zero tolerance for terrorists. Here, we keep those accused and convicted of terror attacks in conditions that are denied to a majority of God-fearing, law -abiding citizens. Even the Sri Lankan assassins of a former Prime Minister have been spared from the gallows so far. Afzal Guru? Let’s not even go there! Ditto for Qasab. So long as we play these dangerous political games in a clumsy attempt to prove something dubious to the world (“ Look guys! We are a democracy. Please be impressed.”) we shall have to resign ourselves to living with terror. And slippery, weak politicians whose sole objective in life is to hang on to their kursis and make money.
What does the average Joe do in such a desperate situation? I received a really dumb email with a request to stand in silence and pray for the dead. Respecting the memory of those innocent people who were blown to bits on 7th September, is one thing. But the pointlessness of such chain mails makes me see red. There was another email which expressed outrage at the fact that not a single politician in the last 5 years was directly affected by terrorist attacks. It was as if the chattering classes would have felt a little better had a couple of netas lost their limbs or lives in similar attacks . This is just such a childish and churlish reaction!But one can understand where it’s coming from. There is so much repressed rage against the ruling class right now, that it would somehow appease the masses if those lofty politicos enjoying z-category protection at tax payers expense were as vulnerable as that poor Pawan Jaswal from Gurgaon who had come to the HC to attend a hearing on his employer’s case and was instantly killed.Increasingly, affected people are vociferously articulating their anger and contempt for leaders as was evident when Rahul Gandhi was heckled when he showed up at the RML Hospital. This is the bold writing on the wall that politicians need to pay close attention to. It indicates a shift in people’s attitude towards those in power . So far, the high and mighty have been insulated from such outrage because the cowering masses have grown accustomed to treating VIPs like ‘maap baap’, bowing and scraping in their presence. But, watch out!Nobody is likely to be spared in future, least of all bechara Manmohan Singh, whose kamzor position at present is encouraging dissidents to shout him down, when he trots out platitudes like, “Co-operation, not accusation, is the need of the hour.” Try saying that to 21-year-old victim Amanpreet Singh Jolly’s grieving father. Or to the wife of 54-year-old Vinod Jaiswal, who was blissfully oblivious she’d been widowed till much after 4.30 p.m. when the sad news was finally broken to her by Ashok, Vinod’s brother. Unfortunately, not too many people will remember these tragic stories even a week from now. Not even the media.
The government cannot hope to get away with alibis and excuses each time the nation is shattered by demonic acts of terror. The buck does stop with those in power. It is the primary duty of our elected representatives to protect lives of citizens.People don’t care if it is the ‘LeT hand’, or Harkat, IM or some other terror group’s ‘foot’ that’s responsible for the HC attack. 68% of people polled blamed the blast on ‘the lack of a political will to tackle terrorism.’’
Sharam karo, bhai, sharam karo.The mood of the nation is belligerent.Public anger is as lethal, as dangerous as an IED. All that’s required is a trigger. And such a symbolic blast can cause far greater damage than anything placed in an abandoned suitcase.
It’s ‘champi’ time for politicians. The smart thing to do would be to keep shut and get to work. Oh yes - netas should definitely stay away from the RML Hospital – we don’t need any more casualties there.

Why Kiran Bedi....?

2011-09-06T23:15:00.002+05:30

I attended one of the most satisfying book launches of my life. The first time author? The frail but sprightly Sidney Pinto, a charming 85-year-old who has penned a delightful novel titled 'Louis Puttichenna - The Servant Boy from Mangalore.' Not only is it a swift read, it is a bloody good story, full of passion and intrigue, with as many twists and turns as a rivulet in the author's 'native place'' - the one he has written about with such flair and panache. The book is well observed, detailed, and dare I say it, even erotic! Sidney has created some wonderful characters, and like I mentioned at the launch, I can see a movie in the book. As for the star of the evening - Sidney himself - he was dressed in a fancy kurta pajama ensemble and busy flirting with all the pretty girls fluttering around him. When one of them asked solicitously whether he needed extra oxygen from a cylinder that was kept in readiness for him, he replied, " Of course.... the sight of so many beautiful women is making me breathless!" I am looking forward to his next novel. And I'd be more than happy to publish it!
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This appeared in The Week....

Why Kiran Bedi….?

It happened to Barkha Dutt. Now it’s Kiran Bedi’s turn. At this point in time, ‘Crane’ Bedi, India’s most high profile, female (ex) top cop, has talked herself into a corner, going by the widespread hostility she has generated on the internet during Anna Hazare’s 13-day agitation. Since she was one of the key players of the Anna Campaign and visible on tv screens 24x7 during the period, there was just no escaping the Bedi onslaught. Whether energetically dancing with the tricolour, giving regular updates on Anna’s condition, mocking parliamentarians or just being officious, Bedi, clad in her trademark, macho salwar-suits with matching jackets was the tough talking spokesperson everybody loved to hate. Her ‘Anna is India, India is Anna’ declaration did not go down too well with critics, who kept urging the over eager former cop to calm down and take a break. Or, at least give poor viewers a break. That is Kiran’s personality – you either love her or loathe her. Ignoring Kiran is not an option! Well, now that the Ramlila show is over and everybody has gone home, it’s time to deconstruct the event ( for it was a carefully structured event, with highly capable event managers, make no mistake about that) and get a sense of the personalities behind Anna’s rise to superstardom. Let’s be honest, we live in intensely image-conscious times, driven more by perceptions than reality. Anna’s fast turned out to be a made-for-television protest – whether it was planned that way or not. People across the length and breadth of India, watched a 74 –year-old man taking on the mightiest in the land, fasting for his one-point mission, which is to root out corruption through the Jan Lokpal Bill. A mission that found countless takers in a nation that had reached boiling point dealing with venality and graft on an every day basis and at every level. But for Anna’s mission to succeed, he needed a crack team to push his agenda forward. His Gang of Four, included top brains ( Arvind Kejriwal, Shanti Bhushan, Santosh Hegde and Kiran Bedi). Kiran must have been allotted the ring master’s portfolio, for that is how her role appeared, as she shepherded Bollywood celebs to the dais and kept up a non-stop entertainment show against the backdrop of India’s two Gandhis – the original and the freshly-minted one - Anna Hazare . The visual alone was photogenic enough, but Kiran’s full-blooded performance was electrifying!
Given that a victory ( albeit, qualified) has been declared by the Anna Camp, why then does Kiran continue to attract so much flack?Perhaps it has something to do with her appearance and attitude. Compare the crowd’s favourable response to Medha Patkar ( brought in at the tail end of the sensitive negotiations), who held the stage clad in crumpled home- spun sarees, ill- fitting blouses, her unkempt, undyed hair in a careless braid. Her speeches were strident and uncompromising, forceful and fierce. But she refrained from nautanki ( reference: Kiran’s infamous mimicry act) preferring to concentrate on getting valid points across, as emphatically and swiftly as possible. She exploited TV time to her own advantage, without once inviting ridicule. That’s smart. Medha is brilliant at what she does, but this was the first time that she was given such a gigantic platform to air her views on a subject that found universal appeal. Anna’s protest against corruption had many more takers than Medha’s contoversial Narbada Dam campaign. If some viewers felt uncomfortable with Kiran Bedi’s hectoring style, it was Medha who restored the balance and brought in the required gravitas. Even though both women were on the same side of the fence, their respective styles were entirely at a variance. Medha’s was more cerebral as she attempted to educate the masses, Kiran’s more playful as she took the showbiz route to entertain, rather than inform the restless crowd. The rather unfortunate message Kiran sent out was that of a publicity hound hogging all the limelight, hamming it up on camera, while colleagues did the real work outside the glare of the spotlight. Kiran’s folly should act as a lesson to all those supporters of worthy causes. There is something known as overkill. And a little restraint hurts nobody. Manish Tewari will no doubt agree!

Yellow Boots? Ugh...

2011-09-05T22:46:00.002+05:30

K.C. College ( phew! 6000 students in one smallish building near Churchgate Station - that is what I call space and time management!). That's where I spent my morning, addressing the bright, young first batch of the Media course, which offers a master's degree after two years. I found the kids very charged up and well informed. It was a pleasure interacting with them... and ha ha ha ... they got to hear a pretty candid account of what it's really like in this mad business. I hope I didn't disillusion those sweet idealists too much! Of course, they should go out there and change the world!!
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This appeared in Bombay Times.... with due apologies to Nancy Sinatra!

These boots are made for walking….

I watched “….Yellow Boots,” and exited the multiplex with my brains scrambled! What the hell was it about? And pray, in what way did the colour of the boots have anything to do with the bizarre story, which went nowhere?There’s something mad and annoyingly self-indulgent about a certain set of self-declared arty, over-hyped,intellectualised film makers these days, who make films that seem to be specifically designed to befuddle ( and NOT in the ‘Inception’ way). Viewers who don’t ‘get it’ start suspecting their own sensibilities, others who claim they’ve ‘got it’ , come away feeling superior. But the truth of the matter is, not even the film maker ( in this case Anurag Kashyap) has actually ‘got’ anything.But again, this attempt is sweeeeet – it’s a besotted man’s ‘tofaa’ to his new wife (Kalki Koechlin), who has co-written the movie and is the girl in those damned boots! I heard a viewer comment, “This lady Kalki should change her name to Kinky! Man…. This movie is just so twisted and weird!” Perhaps , after the artistic success of Dev-D, Kalki has figured out her brand positioning in Bollywood – she gets to play all the kinky roles that mainstream heroines shun. She plays them convincingly, too. Her obsessive character in “…..Boots,” is in search of a missing father. While she looks for the guy, she works in a sleazy massage parlour and offers ‘hand jobs’ for an extra thousand bucks. Several transactions later, viewers start feeling queasy at the sight of all the discarded tissues in the waste bin. But ‘Ruth’ ( that rhymes with a certain unmentionable Hindi gaali), soldiers on ( she is on a mission, remember?) with what she euphemistically calls ‘handshakes’ or ‘happy endings’, till we hurtle towards the (anti)climax. In between, a whole bunch of caricatures with no relevance to the story, bob in and out of the film – a druggie boy friend, handcuffed to a window grill, who is forced to pee out of the window. And an adorable baddie Chittiappa from Karnataka (Gulshan Devaiya), who prefers his ‘handshake’ through a thick towel. But the real star of this kinky-indie, is Puja Sarup, the cell-phone addict who runs the seedy parlour. Despite all these obvious flaws, I still didn’t mind the 350 bucks I spent on this pointless tale about incest and child abuse. Kalki definitely has a future.Kinky is ‘in’.

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The movie I am holding my breath for is ‘My Brother Ki Dulhan.’ Our ‘Kat on a Hit Tin Room’ has outdone her own Sheila in this role, going by the promos. Guns, guitars and roses coming up!
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Jehangir Sabavala passed away as quietly and discreetly as he had lived.Elegant and refined even in death. I loved the story about Jehangir as a student, turning up at the J.J. School of Art in his stately car, with a personal valet carrying his paint brushes and palette! He sliced through the boring stereotype of an artist starving in an attic , clad in shabby clothes and sporting a scruffy beard. Sabavala was India’s cravat-wearing Dali. But unlike Dali, Jehangir’s precise, subdued paintings reflected his aristocratic approach to art as well as to life.They really don’t make them like him any more!

I am Salman,You are Salman,We are all Salman!

2011-09-04T16:47:00.003+05:30

This is the 'Jhoola' picture , shot by the late Mitter Bedi, that hangs in one of the large Celebrity Windows in the corridor of the Taj Mahal Hotel. I am very proud of it... it is an honour to be included with the likes of international greats - Pandit Ravi Shanker,Sunil Gavaskar, Amitabh Bachchan, The Beatles, Richard Branson, Presidents, Prime Ministers, Sports Stars, Movie Stars,Kings and Queens.You like???
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This appeared in the Sunday Times, but for some inexplicable reason, the people in charge of making the page changed the headline to a less naughty one : New Supermen of the Besotted Masses. BORRRRRIIIIINGGGG!
Khair, it's their prerogative. Just like it is Naseer Hussain's prerogative to call our cricketers 'Donkeys'. Harsha Bhogle.... really!!! How could you take that lying down?
I am in a feisty mood this drippy sunday. Must be the modaks I had at lunch. Our home experiment wasn't too successful... but the effort was sincere. Am kicking myself for not having asked my mother for the exact recipe when she was alive.
Today is the last day of the Society Collections. I am tempted to go back for the third time and pick up some more Diwali decorations.
However, I did very well at Reena Bodani's Design Quest ( it's her virgin show at Design One, which starts on the 8th ). I love Reena's design sensibilities and splurged on her elegant stationery ( she's happy to personalise it for customers).
I also enjoyed shooting for Ahlan's Special Issue, India's Hot Hundred, with my daughter Avantikka and grand-daughter Anasuya Devi.Once we were done with the shoot in the Rajput Suite of the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel (imagine! it was in the same suite that my iconic 'Jhoola' picture was shot, 40 years ago!), we went down to the Sea Lounge and celebrated Anasuya's premiere visit to our favourite hotel. A tiny chocolate cake sent across to the table, marked the occasion. Such a 'Taj' touch!
How did we mark the end of Shravan? Well, Arundhati, who observes it with me, was away in Leh on a camping trip, and broke hers at an altitude of 15,000 feet. I was at Avantikka's home and raised a glass of sparkling wine!Alas, at sea level.But that single glass made me feel I was at 30,000 feet. That's what I call a real 'high'.
Now for our annual darshan of the magnificent Lalbaugh Chha Raja!

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I am Salman,You are Salman,We are all Salman…

Feel the punch.Feel the heat.Feel the kick.Feel the powerrrrr!
Feel it? If you just did, it’s called the Salman Hangover.And those are lyrics from the title track of Salman Khan’s latest release ‘Bodyguard’, which has smashed all box office records on the first day of its perfectly timed Eid release. Incidentally,it is a monumentally ridiculous film.Does that matter? Salman’s myriad admirers are on a high.So are Anna’s (even after ‘pack up’ was called at the now deserted Ramlila grounds).These men do not have fans, they have devotees. After two consecutive superhits, Salman’s producers were hoping for a hat trick with ‘Bodyguard’. Their only worry was the stupendous success of an earlier production that was running to a packed house and had virtually captured every available sub-continental eyeball watching television, 24x7. The script of that particular production changed by the hour and was compelling enough to keep a billion Indians riveted for close to a fortnight. It was a unique and original script, though a few ‘khadoos’ critics insisted it was a remake of Richard Attenborough’s ‘Gandhi’. So what? ‘Bodyguard’ is a re-make , too. Audiences don’t care, so long as they get their money’s worth. The Ramlila verion of ‘Gandhi’ guaranteed ‘houseful’ shows and was fully paisa vasool. Its canny producers ( Team Anna) realizing its potential as a national and possibly, an international blockbuster,had gone flat out to leverage its popularity, with marketing gimmicks that generated shock and awe. Caps, flags, placards and soundbytes were neatly in place, as were pre-booked slots on popular tv programmes including a reality show that enjoys high ratings. The positioning and placement of the ‘product’ ( Jan Lokpal Bill) was shrewdly calibrated to appeal to the target audience ( same as ‘Bodyguard’s’). If Katrina Kaif was sweet enough to help out good friend Salman with an item number ( feel the heat, you guys!), Team Anna was fortunate enough to have Kiran Bedi dancing a daily jig on the dais ( could have done with better choreography, though). The music of both productions was mediocre, though Team Anna scored with live performances, a few of which drew top stars like the other Khan – Aamir.
But just like Salman devotees don’t really bother with the side shows and are there solely for Salman, Team Anna’s core group understood it was Anna who attracted those mammoth crowds – just Anna.That’s what real superstardom is all about. It knows no logic and there’s nothing remotely rational about the hysteria it triggers off. The Wave is everything – and professionals know exactly how to time it, ride it…. just like competitive surfers. But no matter how cold bloodedly minders try and manufacture the magic or capitalize on a craze, at the heart of such madness lies something entirely ephemeral. It is called love. And that cannot be manufactured. People love Salman and Anna. Unconditionally, at that.It would appear these two men have absolutely nothing in common. One is a 41- year-old, pumped up movie actor whose specialization lies in the many and highly innovative ways of removing his shirt on screen( a water hose does the job in ‘Bodyguard’).The other is a bird- like 74- year- old who may have never worn a shirt ( except in the army).But both men are seen as avatars of ‘Superman’ by besotted followers.One performs unbelievable physical feats on screen ( Salman single handedly slays no less than fifty baddies in ‘Bodyguard’), the other does so in real life (fasts for 13 days without a single sign of fatigue).. Their stupendous success defies the odds. Their undeniable charisma sees them through life’s most daunting tests. Salman plays a simpleton in ‘Bodyguard’ – an innocent, trusting person called Lovely Singh ( you read that right!). Anna is such a person in real life. Both men are single, though Salman is ever ready to mingle. India is their extended family. And such is the fanaticism of their followers, one word spoken or written about either, generates an avalanche of abuse. Clearly there’s zero tolerance for criticism.Allegiance is everything and camps are closed to ‘outsiders’. Interestingly enough, Salman’s last hit, ‘Dabbang’ was launched at a time when his only rival was Baba Ramdev (I had written a column on their similarities in this space). Ramdev’s fortunes went downhill right after. Today, it’s Anna Hazare, and he is still going strong. But it is Salman Khan who leads a charmed life and seems indestructible.
It’s got to be that shirt trick!

Aamir Khan : Actors as Activists...

2011-08-30T13:01:00.002+05:30

This appeared in Bombay Times today.... look at the mess Om Puri finds himself in after his attempt to play actor-activist at the Anna Hazare jamboree on Ramlila grounds. Poor chap is going blue in the face retracting his words and apologising for calling MPs 'Naalayaks' and 'Ganwaars'. Most of India agrees with him, btw!
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Amir Khan: Actors as Activists….

“The Parliament has spoken.The will of the Parliament is the will of the people.” Thus spake Prime Minister Manmohan Singh. Too little, too late.But at least, Anna called off his 12-day fast and India sighed with relief.Aamir Khan made it to the most photographed dais in Indian history at Ramlila grounds, a few short hours before the impasse ended. He sang, but didn’t dance.Unlike some other opportunistic actors from Bollywood who shamelessly derived mileage from the event, Aamir sensibly skipped gimmicks , yet made his presence and position felt very strongly . Unlike those minor players, ever ready to be associated with any and every ‘good cause’ , Aamir picks his strategic battles very well. While some popular stars displayed support by wearing Anna topis and T-shirts to events , others tweeted and blogged, but the majority stayed put and remained mum. This is the way it has always been in our film industry . Taking a political stand and lending your name\presence to any movement requires a strong sense of conviction and commitment. Especially if that movement is remotely ‘anti- government’, as Anna’s protest certainly was. Actors are a vulnerable lot. It’s a peculiar damned- if –you-do-and-damned-if-you-don’t situation that comes with several pitfalls. Most actors are scared of getting on the wrong side of the ruling party or the cops. They know they can be harassed, hounded and exposed ( raids!) by those in authority.This is why most of them prefer to play ball with the establishment, and stay out of trouble by not taking anybody’s side.While a few have taken the plunge officially ( Shatrughan Sinha, Raj Babber, Vinod Khanna, Hema Malini, Jaya Prada), others fight shy of disclosing their loyalties, preferring to remain studiedly neutral and non-committal.
This is where Aamir Khan is different. Cynics may call his most recent Anna-outing, yet another marketing ace, perhaps a run up to a new movie he is either making or backing ( Peepli Live- 2 ?), but even if it is just that, it still requires dum to go out there and pledge unconditional support to a high profile, controversial, even explosive cause. When Kiran Bedi turned all gooey, coy and coquettish in his presence and asked a silly question (“Will you bring all your friends from Bollywood next time?”), Aamir deftly evaded a direct reply – like any good politician.That apart, his presence at the rally sent out a strong signal. It was about Aamir the individual, Aamir the citizen, taking a stand, not just against corruption, but indirectly against the Manmohan Singh-led UPA government. In an age where the culture of camps continues to prevail, this was seen as a defiantly independent move, more so, because the other Khans had maintained a safe distance from a burning issue that had India up in arms for close to a fortnight.
Should actors be compelled to articulate their political positions? In Hollywood, they do. They use their considerable clout to influence public opinion during any national crisis. American Presidents, aware of the power of Hollywood, actively court big names and encourage stars to campaign for them, or speak up when required.From expressing their views on gun control laws to gay marriages, Hollywood big shots make themselves heard across international platforms. Aamir Khan, ever ahead of the curve, and never one to stick with the herd, has demonstrated once again why he more than anybody else in Bollywood, continues to command such a unique position. After all this adulation,his fans will be most disappointed, even disillusioned, if he does indeed capitalize on the Ramlila Grounds’ visit to announce his next film based on Anna and the Famous Fast. Watch this space.

India needs Anna. ALIVE!

2011-08-27T13:01:00.002+05:30

This appeared in the Adian Age \ Deccan Chronicle today.... aagey ,aagey dekho, hota hai kya...
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Anna, Aap Jiyo Hazaron Saal…

At the time of writing ( 11th day of the Famous Fast), Anna is still alive. That statement sounds crass…. crude… shocking. It is meant to. I think we have all lost the plot. And in the cacophony of all the noises and voices, we have conveniently overlooked the one person who is at the centre of it all – Anna Hazare. He has been reduced to a side show, a mascot, as his over zealous keepers continue to exploit his frail persona and use Anna as a bargaining chip. Anna’s health is now the nation’s obsession…. its chief concern. His physical health has become the barometre of the nation’s emotional health. If anything happens to Anna… and let me put it bluntly… if Anna dies, it will lead to consequences that may be far more terrible than rejecting the Jan Lokpal Bill. But, of course, in polite societies, we don’t talk about the death of someone who is very much alive.As of now, the stand-off is on.There’s no resolution in sight. But heaven help us, if the situation suddenly deteriorates and his health fails.Hey Bhagwan! Till then we shall have to put up with a parade of assorted personalities holding forth on tv channels. Bristling belligerence getting the better of some. While other light weights opt for catchy hyperbole.An over- enthusiastic ad man described the Ramlila gathering as a Kumbh Mela! Carried away by his own imagery, he went on to declare the crowds could be still bigger than the pilgrims who gather for the Holy Dip during the Kumbh. His wild exaggerations were understandable – we have reduced the entire protest to a pathetic game of numbers (“Mine are bigger than yours…”). Awestruck tv anchors urge their camera crew to sweep cameras over the surging crowds and then rhapsodise over the spectacle. A few hand picked commentators (“especially flown in”) hold forth from the Ramlila Maidan and assure viewers they have never witnessed anything like this – the scale, the fervour, and of course, the numbers! It’s always about the numbers. An irate housewife from Noida rants about rising prices and how she has to pay bribes to get a gas connection. The anchor turns to the camera with a triumphant look and thunders, “The entire nation stands solidly behind this lady… this is India’s Second Freedom Struggle.” And then it’s back to this season’s biggest reality show… poor Rakhi Sawant will need to do something more than flash her eyes and cleavage if she wants those trp’s. While Salman Khan must be scratching his head to come up with a clever gimmick to promote ‘Bodyguard’. As of now, there is just one bona fide Superstar in India, and that’s Anna Hazare.
But what of the screechy, shrill supporters who chant ‘Vande Mataram’ and ‘Bharat Mata ki Jai’ on cue the minute cameras cut to close–ups? Emotions are running dangerously high. When that happens…. anything can happen. It’s like a flash flood or a bush fire. Or open heart surgery. Timing is everything. As of now, the protests have been admirably non-violent. Those who have taken to the streets have done so only because they fervently (perhaps, naively) believe it is a do-or-die moment – if they let this opportunity go, another one may be a long time coming . There is hope in their hearts that the protest ( more against the scourge of corruption than a thumbs up for the Jan Lokpal Bill), will lead to seminal change. Will it? So far, the country has been governed by a succession of elected representatives ( irony!) who have ruled like history’s worst despots – no questions asked! What we are witnessing across India is a display of collective wrath. The sort of suppressed, accumulated rage that has finally found an outlet. For that alone one must thank Anna. If Anna’s patience has worn thin , it’s in perfect sync with the sentiments of the people. Perhaps for the first time in 64 years, the aam aadmi believes the time has come to aggressively challenge those who have trampled on and abused their trust for six decades. The ordinary citizen is experiencing a heady feeling of instant empowerment after years of being resigned to accepting powerlessness as their collective ‘fate’. Armed with this new weapon, trusting citizens continue swarming to different venues across India demanding to be heard. This has been the single biggest achievement of Anna Hazare. No wonder Manmohan Singh was gracious enough to honour and salute Anna during his uncharacteristically emotional address in Parliament. What we are witnessing is living, throbbing Democracy in motion… it is an image that will endure long after the impasse ends, and everybody goes home to carry on with his or her life…. the significant difference being, from this moment on, it will be a transformed life , an aware life, an entitled life. And most crucially, a life that comes with a built in assurance that in a democracy, every voice counts, even the one that disagrees with you.
For all this to happen, India needs Anna. Alive. The countdown has begun.

SPARROW needs you!

2011-08-24T12:27:00.002+05:30

Waiting and watching on the momentous 9th day of The Fast. Enjoyed reading historian Ramachandra Guha's scholarly comment on the subject this morning (Hindustan Times). If interested in an objective analysis, do read "A Diffenrential Calculus" where he states, "There are pivotal differences between Jayaprakash Narayan's and Anna Hazare's movements.As there are between Indira Gandhi and Manmohan Singh."
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This appeared in The Week.

SPARROW needs you….

Look at the irony of it all. The common, household sparrow is about to disappear from cities and is on the list of endangered birds.If we aren’t more vigilant, SPARROW (Sound & Picture Archives For Research On Women ) may face the same fate. C.S. Lakshmi, the feisty founder of SPARROW (along with two other founder trustees) is uncharacteristically worried ( she always projects such an upbeat personality), as she struggles to keep her organization afloat. Started 23-years-ago, with the sole purpose of recording women’s histories in a systematic way, SPARROW provided an important space for documenting and chronicling the changes taking place in our lives – often, without our even realizing what was going on. I have known Lakshmi since her early days as a writer (she earned her doctorate from the prestigious JNU in American Studies) . And we met again recently, for this update. We discussed the importance of archiving women’s lives in a more meaningful way, and she laughed! Lakshmi admitted that talking to government agencies for the much needed support and funding has become a waste of time, since babudom’s idea of ‘help’ for women’s causes generally does not extend beyond “providing 20 sewing machines for widows.” How aptly Lakshmi summed up India’s official attitude towards women’s ‘development’! Lakshmi’s vision has always gone well beyond the sewing machine approach. It was a blueprint that earned attention, respect and - most importantly – money. This support was provided mainly by foreign agencies which came forward with monetary aid meant for specific projects, such as the publication of books (Paper Dreams) with titles like “Hot is the Moon : Poems and Stories of Women in Kannada,Tamil,Konkani and Tulu.” Or ‘Feminism as Experience: Thoughts and Narratives.” These are but a few of the varied and rich titles available at a modest price. In 1997, SPARROW attempted to create a video documentation of women’s lives after conducting a series of visual history workshops with various artists representing the Arts. This series was followed by Women in Theatre and Women’s Activism, which saw ten significant films on pioneering women activists like Bengali writer Mahasweta Devi, Shajehan Appa ( who was part of the anti-dowry movement), besides several others. In eleven years, SPARROW made twenty-five films, plus documented a five-day writer’s camp: “From Silence to Words,From Words to Silence’. These are just a few important initiatives….what happens to SPARROW’s future plans?
Lakhsmi’s eyes still dance with enthusiasm as she continues the narrative, undaunted and far from discouraged at the prospect of shutting shop unless the situation improves. She is sure the money will come somehow, even though with the precarious state of the economy in most of Europe and America, funding priorities have changed considerably. As she points out accurately, funds readily flow in for high profile initiatives like AIDS-related projects. But for anything else, it is a huge struggle. Investing in women’s lives , it would appear, is pretty low priority. Convincing fat cat donors to set aside funds for something they do not consider vital, is Lakshmi’s toughest challenge. But what can be more vital to the health of society than the health of its women? Physical, psychological, spiritual? What is so obvious to the converted, is clearly not so for the majority. Lakshmi’s idealism and belief in what SPARROW does so effectively and well, keeps her motivated and upbeat. But, for how long? Lakshmi’s personal story is equally inspiring. Married to her ‘best friend’, the two of them decided not to have biological children of their own, preferring to adopt three underprivileged kids of their building’s Nepali watchman and his wife.I met Lakshmi’s poised and lovely foster daughter at an art raffle last year, and was thrilled to know how well she’s doing at college. Her siblings are attending a good school as well, and chances are, they will continue on the path carved out for them by Lakshmi and Vishnu. How hard has it been assuming the responsibility of these children, who share their home…. their lives… their difficulties? Pretty! With Lakshmi’s impressive academic qualifications, she could so easily have moved up the academic ladder and acquired an array of awards. That was never the objective, Lakshmi smiles. But times have changed. She is aware of the years ahead, dealing with shrinking funds, worrying she may not be able to pay staff salaries. With that basic concern in mind, Lakshmi is keen to set up ‘Friends of SPARROW.’ I have signed on. Why? Because there is much more to women’s development than donating 20 sewing machines to widows. If you feel the same way, you can sign on , too. Check out the website: www.sparrowonline.org. Email: sparrow1988@gmail.com.
Because our voices… our lives… count . And we must be heard.

'Bol' - Open you mouth ... and speak up!

2011-08-22T18:10:00.002+05:30

I am giving myself ( and you!) a much needed 'Anna Break.' But this much i can't resist adding: bring media into the Bill, as well. If the P.M. is to be included, why not the media? Media must be accountable, too.

This appeared in Bombay Times today...

For God’s sake – open your mouth. Bol!

Something wonderful is going on in Pakistan’s ( Pollywood?) movie industry. There is a name attached to this phenomenon – Director Shoaib Mansoor. Yes, the same man who gave international audiences the much-discussed, much-awarded ‘Khuda Ke Liye’ ( a far, far superior take on terrorism than our own super-hyped but essentially shallow efforts). His latest film ‘Bol’ speaks about the unspeakable ( the birth of a eunuch in a traditional Hakim’s female dominated family) and raises several touchy, super sensitive social issues without turning preachy. It’s really pretty remarkable how Mansoor manages to negotiate political and cultural barriers in his country and tackle such bold themes which expose the terrifyingly regressive attitude towards women that still pulverises society. He does so within the framework of a poor family struggling to hang in there, emotionally and physically , unable to come to terms with the ‘indignity’ of producing a string of daughters who are virtual prisoners inside a joyless, dark hovel. The oppressive atmosphere is heightened by the presence of a powerless mother made to feel guilty by her autocratic husband ( Manzer Sehbai) for not giving birth to a son. The women cower inside the bare walls of the shabby home, living from one meal to the next, while the world outside is throbbing with opportunity and adventure. Saifi (Amr Kashmiri), plays the last child, born with ambiguous genitals and a simple, trusting mind. Afraid that this terrible secret will be discovered by neighbours, Saifi leads a sheltered , claustrophobic existence within the four walls of his home, playing with his sisters and being molly coddled by his mother. It is the father who cruelly shuns him even at meal times.
The tragedy that unfolds once Saifi is smuggled out of his home and exposed to the savage world outside, defines the rest of the film ( Shoaib has written the story and screenplay as well). It’s a relentlessly grim narrative, plus, a tad too extended ( over 2 hours), but it had me riveted, more for the searing, brutal glimpses it offered into the ‘ordinary’ lives of our neighbours. The scenes of mundane domesticity involving the lovely young girls of the family dreaming of a world they may never experience, were very poignant. The fiery portrayal of the rebellious daughter ( tv star Humaima Malick ) who takes on her sadistic father and pays a huge price for her daring, was nuanced, convincing and astonishingly moving. As for Iman Ali ( the heroine of ‘Khuda….’) as the courtesan from Lahore’s notorious Heera Mandi, with a touching Meena Kumari fixation ( She constantly quotes ‘Pakeezah’ dialogues), her fine featured, luminous beauty would make anybody go weak in the knees ( who can blame the Hakim for succumbing?). Definitely worth a watch. And Shoaib’s message about the pathetic state of women who are denied an education gets through loud and clear – it detonates as powerfully as kilos of rdx. Let’s call ‘Bol’ a cinematic exploration of another form of terrorism – against women in ultra conservative societies.
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Compare the powerful telling of ‘Bol’ to the disappointingly tepid narrative of ‘Aarakshan’. Both can be called ‘message’ films. ‘Bol’ gets it across forcefully, while ‘Aarakshan’ flounders and flops with its heavy handed treatment and clumsy approach. Amitabh, Saif and Manoj soldier on… but even these three seasoned actors couldn’t save the film.And hello! The Nawab playing an oppressed Dalit? You got to be kidding!

More on Anna... as promised. Plus, more...

2011-08-21T13:48:00.003+05:30

Binalakshmi Nepram is an extraordinary woman from Manipur, who gave up lucrative assignments in London and New York to come back to her home state with a one point agenda - "Get the guns out of Manipur''. That has been her impassioned campaign since her return.Manipur , one of our most neglected and demoralised States is dominated by guns in the hands of trigger happy cops and army men, accountable to no one.... a law unto themselves. Locals have been terrorised and brutalised for decades.. with nobody daring to speak up against this oppression. Binalakhmi has launched 'Manipur Women Gun Survivors Network', and is the Secretary General, 'Control Arms Foundation of India'.Beautiful, articulate and committed, she is also a published poet. Check out www.cafi-online.org. www.neiwip.blogspot.com. I am more than willing to fast for her and with her....
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This appeared in the Sunday TOI....

Why I’d hate to be in Anna’s Chappals….

It’s scary being Anna Hazare. Here is one man who has been compelled to carry the collective hopes of over a billion countrymen on his 74 year-old-shoulders. No matter how sturdy those shoulders are, that’s a lot of weight. So far, the situation is tense but not grim. How much longer will the ‘Main Hoon ,Na?’scenario last? Important question. If emotions dry up and nothing concrete comes out of the shrill protests ,who takes care of the disillusioned and desperate Anna followers waiting for the miracle to happen?Ironically, the Anna Phenomenon has divided, rather than united India. Instead of the aam aadmi focusing on the C- Word and backing Team Anna in its valiant fight against India’s Emperor of Maladies – corruption ( as malignant as the worst form of cancer), much-needed energy has been dissipated on finger pointing and name calling. Anna now finds himself in a bit of a spot, and how he negotiates this challenge will determine not just his own future but the fate of tomorrow’s India.Martyrdom is an attractive, seductive option. The thing is, Anna has been appropriated and converted into a talisman. His followers chant his name like a mantra. Some of them believe if they chant it often enough, and observe fasts, their wish for a corruption free India will be automatically granted. Just like Manmohan Singh does not possess a magic wand ( and has foolishly admitted it), neither does Anna.But we the citizens do! It’s called a ‘vote’. But passions have reached such a feverish pitch ,Anna devotees refuse to acknowledge basics(Anna alone cannot rid India of corruption).The solution to India’s myriad problems is not Anna. And this is where the faithful flock is making an expensive mistake.
Anna Hazare is no Jayaprakash Narayan. He most certainly cannot be described as the 21st Mahatma Gandhi. He is Anna - a simple man with a simple mind . Which is his biggest trump card and also his biggest liability. It is his simplicity that has attracted thousands of people to him. But it is the same simplicity that can become his undoing. A great man’s silence is open to interpretation. A diehard fan can read whatever into it. But when the same great man opens his mouth he risks everything if the content doesn’t match expectations. For all his other attributes, even his most ardent admirers will admit, Anna is no intellectual heavyweight. He is not a statesman , nor has he pretended to be one. What has touched so many people’s lives is his courage to take on the mighty, combined with a childlike obstinacy. Is that enough to ‘save’ India? Or are we being a bit too gullible, a bit too naïve pinning all our hopes on a single individual and his Jan Lokpal Bill? An Anna wave is what we have right now.Can it become a mass movement?
That the Congress-led UPA government has enough egg on its face to make a gigantic omelet, is obvious. The Big Boys have bungled and bungled badly. The Prime Minister managed to find his voice a bit too late into the fracas. By the time he spoke up, the Anna show was well on the road, with enough support to shake up India’s Debating Society ( read: ministers who waste precious time scoring debating points on television instead of engaging in smart politics). This debacle has added to the confusion, and worse, caused major rifts within the government. Anna’s decision to carry on fasting and stay put in jail was the master stroke that the Debaters had not factored in. Nor had they paid close attention to the mood of the nation, which was indeed clamouring for change.Unfortunately, what the mood also revealed was a growing sense of intolerance – and this is the frightening part. You had to take sides in a childish way – be fawningly pro-Anna or get labeled anti-Anna. Like we were playing kho-kho. Dissenting opinions were damned.Those who didn’t gush over Anna were dubbed unpatriotic. All this , while discussing the power of democracy!It is this divisiveness that will cost Anna eventually.Hate and condemnation of those with a different point of view can hardly be described as Gandhian thinking.Anna loyalists will require more than Gandhi topis and trendy tees to keep up the momentum, now that we have admitted there is an elephant in the room. Poor Anna Hazare. Who said a folk hero’s life is easy?

No more Anna .... till Sunday!

2011-08-19T23:20:00.002+05:30

Got back a while ago after an hour long panel discussion on 'People Power' - Rajdeep Sardesai's cnn-ibn prime time show, feeling reassured that a civilised debate and discussion on the day's explosive topic is still possible without anybody bursting an artery or taking cheap pot shots. It was sober, erudite, informed and nuanced, with several points of view and interesting perspectives being accorded enough space and respect. Nobody interrupted, shouted, screeched, cursed or sulked. And like somebody on the panel pointed out, this protest is longer about Anna or even the Jan Lokpal Bill! I am sure you can catch it on the cnn-ibn website if you are interested. This is really how it should be - there was nothing shrill about Rajdeep's anchoring, and nobody became apoplectic when views didn't match. It's come to a ridiculous stage otherwise when Anna fans accuse dissenters of being worse than traitors!Enough said. Let a thousand opinions bloom... eventually, it is only truth that prevails.
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This appeared in The Week....

Lolita is alive and well…

At a time when the Police Commissioner of Delhi is compelled to advise women not to travel solo at night , it does seem terribly odd to read reports of 11- and 13- year-old girls who are being used as models for decidedly grown up ads. The peculiar part about this arrangement has to do with the fact that they are not endorsing teen products. These pre-pubescent girls are being passed off as young adults with a few clever flicks of the make-up brush, high heels, and entirely inappropriate clothes. When I read the report titled, “Twelve going on twenty-two” in HT Café recently I did a double take.These are not girls from underprivileged or uneducated background doing it to keep from starving.These girls are modeling for the dosh. And fame, of course.Read what the mother of 11-year-old Malvika Hoon has to say about her kid posing seductively for a photo shoot, “Since she didn’t have a real cleavage then, a tight top made sure she passed off as a 20 year-old.” Another mother (Dolly Chakra) boasts about her tween daughter Aarti, who started modelling at the age of 3, “Her height is an advantage and we make sure she looks years older through make-up.” The 167cms girl is seen in bridal shows and has done jewelry campaigns as well. A photographer named Rahul Dutta is quoted as saying, “Skin care brands prefer young models as their skin is supple and flawless.There’s a fresh appeal to their face.” Child rights’ activists may knock the trend, but the way it works is simple – the market gets what the market wants. And the market wants ‘taaza maal.’ Others in the glam business insist it’s an acceptable trend given that it is popular in the West where agencies specifically ask for pre-teens and a model’s career peaks before she hits 18! But then, are we in India also ready to accept transsexual models like Brazil’s hottest cat walk queen Lea T, who is one - and proud of it?
Each time I catch a kid gyrating provocatively on tv in those awful dance shows, I shudder to imagine what life beyond that garish set is like for these precocious children. When I spot the faces of their beaming parents cheering them on, I feel even more revolted. Do they not see how blatantly their kid’s sexuality is being projected and exploited for the hungry eyes of countless voyeurs? Does it not scare the hell out of these idiotic, misguided people? Or is the lure of making a quick buck out of an innocent child powerful enough to blind those greedy mothers and fathers? Do they really want their nubile daughters to send out lurid signals to the audience? Or have they just not thought about possible repercussions down the line? Is it ignorance or avarice that drives such folks? I recall talking to a shining example of parental exploitation – Rakhi Samant – just before she arrived on the big ticket circuit. She wept big, fat tears recalling the days her mother would throw ghungroos at her and command her to dance for ‘rich people’. Rakhi eventually struck gold ( well… at least in material terms, forget emotional damage). Not every little girl shaking her booty for the cameras is as lucky. Given the times we live in, teen models being coerced into role playing by painting their faces and squeezing their budding breasts into tight tops, makes for a sickening story. No matter how lucrative the deals, or how prestigious the campaign. In fact, each time I spot pictures of Suri, the gorgeous daughter of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes, I cringe at the imagery. Here’s a cute kid of high-profile parents being projected as a style icon, if you please! The kid’s been wearing high heels and carrying designer bags virtually since she was a toddler! Now we are told she’ll be launching her own fashion label since her fashion sense is so damn sharp that she provides valuable style checks for her parents!
A society that actively encourages and endorses this sort of sexual objectification of minors through mass circulated ads, reflects a scary , almost schizo attitude towards sexuality itself. When Nobokov wrote Lolita, he was branded a dirty old man, and the book was banned in several countries for promoting child pornography. Today, as millions of women across the world take to the streets to protest against sexual violence, here we are foolishly promoting tween fixations through girls like Aarti and Malvika. Their mothers need heavy duty counseling. Were it not for these women pushing their bachchas into growing up in a mad hurry… forcing them to slap on war paint and create fake cleavages… in other words, persuading their kids to sell their garden fresh wares to a panting audience, those girls may have actually got a life. A less twisted one.

A venue at which two Indias met....

2011-08-18T22:30:00.002+05:30

Sorry guys. I'm not talking about the grounds outside Tihar Jail, Azad Maidan or the RamLila grounds. The venue at which the two Indias met was posh - very 'elite' ( how that poor word gets over used, abused and flung around as a gaali!)and the crowd provided a fantastic overview of the controversial two Indias - the richest and the lowliest. And yet, not a single person was made to feel uncomfortable, guilty or apologetic. The occasion was the celebration of Real Heroes, a cnn-ibn initiative, partnered with Reliance Industries.On stage was the richest man in India, Mukesh Ambani, along with the poorest - a scavenger's son, who was one of the 24 awardees. It was such a powerful, emotionally charged moment when, without any barrier or self consciousness, the two interacted, shook hands and for at least those few minutes, wiped out the vast chasm which separates their respective lives. That such a thing is possible in today's India is momentous in itself. This is the big change... and no matter how cynically one deconstructs it, those 24 award winners are true representatives of this churning - each and everyone of them. Their lives, their stories are more compelling than anything that is going on right now under the name of India's Second Freedom Struggle.
I feel sorry for all those misguided people who are busy pointing fingers and spewing venom at anybody who does not toe the Hazare line and shout slogans lauding Anna.Rooting out corruption is on every right thinking citizen's wish list.But surely not through clumsy dadagiri that does not tolerate dissent. After the Arab Spring, an Indian Autumn? Who knows. Tomorrow is another day. I think it rightfully belongs to Bezwada Wilson,the man who made the shocking discovery as a child that his parents worked as manual scavengers, and decided to set up 'Safal Karamchari Andolan' , a movement that has spread to 5 States besides his native Karnataka.
I would support any Bill proposed by this man. Campaign and vote for him if he ever decides to jump into the political arena.
Oh... ooooops! Forgot to post my 'elite' pics, wearing red lipstick and drinking champagne in a swish Brussels' bar. Tch. Tch.

Jail Bharo! Rasta Roko! Uske Baad....?

2011-08-17T13:25:00.004+05:30

BlogDosts, I am in no mood to share bright and happy pictures from some distant land, when there is so much going on in our own backyard. But this image is apt - and it isn't Dharavi. The slums outside Mexico City stretch for miles and miles. And yes, corruption rules there as well. Guns do all the talking. Right-minded people are waiting for a Messiah to save them from venal politicians. The story is pretty simlar. And an unlikely poet has managed to inspire the youth... just as Anna Hazare seems to be doing in India. The poet, who was virtually unknown till he took on the powers that be after his young son was shot dead by trigger happy cops, has since devoted his time to demanding change , but in a peaceful , law abiding manner. So far, his campaign has worked brilliantly with thousands of young people supporting him as he travels from city to city, village to village, demanding change and transparency.

Has India reached the Tipping Point? Not quite.

Anna is the messenger. Not the message. The cause is far bigger than the individual. Take away those TV cameras, and front page coverage, and see what happens. Everybody is jumping onto the Anna bandwagon, even those who don't quite know what this is all about. Let's not confuse issues and personalities. Let's leave Mahatma Gandhi out of this protest. Why not demand a National Referendum and ask the people of India to vote directly? Does anybody have the guts \ political will to go for this option? Of course, not! Dramabaazi gets more eyeballs. And which person today is above and beyond encouraging a personality cult?

Corruption is a national evil. That's a given. But a politician by any other name, is still a politician. Let us resist the temptation to deify an individual and bestow instant sainthood on the person, because it makes us feel more virtuous. Millions of our people starve... yes, starve! What stops us from giving up a meal for them? Candle light vigils look good on TV - they don't fill those hungry stomachs.

Delighted!

2011-08-15T18:46:00.007+05:30

Vastly encouraged by your positive response to my last post, I have gone a bit overboard in my enthusiasm today. Couldn't resist sharing my 'Sombrero moment' ! The food was sooooo inedible in this joint , and I was sooooo hungry, the only way to cheer up was to pose for this fun shot.

There is something about those mariachi men ( they look like Keralites, na?). This guy and his musicians serenade ladies at a really marvellous restaurant called Villa Maria in Mexico City. I tasted my first Tamarind Margarita here..... and it must have been potent enough for me to sing CuCuRuCuCu ( the Cockroach song) with this dude. Charming chap. He had all the old biddies swooning!

Aah.... the magnificent Sun Pyramid at Teotihuacan.I would have loved to clamber all the way to the top, but better sense and bad footwear discouraged me that hot, steamy afternoon. Besides, I felt spooked after hearing the guide's vivid accounts of human sacrifices conducted on top.... followed by his even more vivid description as to why the broad street along the pyramids is called the Avenue of the Dead.

Isn't that a beautiful altar? All gold! With gold prices being at an all time high worldwide, one could only gape at the splendour and not put a staggering number to its worth. There is gold in dem hills, amigos. And silver, too. I bought a bold, huge silver ring and convinced myself it was for good luck - still waiting for a windfall!

Wow??? Definitely. And a double wow after Pope John's visit. This is one of the most important religious centres for Catholics the world over. I got lovely rosaries to gift our devout staff at home .

A mass is said every hour in this gigantic area next to the old cathedral, and it has been designed by a famous Mexican architect. I was lucky to be there when mass was on. I felt uplifted and moved by the transparent faith and deep devotion of the congregation. I prayed with all my heart.... and I am sure at least one special prayer will soon be heard. If it is, I shall post the good news here first.

There are more images coming up - like the Frida Kahlo Museum , which is as vivid as her life and work. Now that my BlogDosts have given me an unambiguous thumbs up, I shall make the most of the opportunity. You know why? Because it is OUR space, and I value what you say!

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For the first time in my life I have felt totally blah about India's Independence Day. For the first time, too, I felt discouraged and disheartened. In fact, I turned down every single request to appear on those meaningless TV Shows that are created to 'celebrate' the occasion with talkathons galore. It would have been a hollow, futile exercise for me. Who needs hollow?

Then there were several attempts to get me to talk about the Big Fast scheduled for tomorrow. Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. As Rhett Butler famously said to Scarlett O'Hara at the end of 'Gone with the Wind."

Happy (Independence) Days Are Here Again!

2011-08-12T23:30:00.007+05:30

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY! I loved the totem and the cactii - just so Mexico!

It's the first time I touched obsidian - a glossy, jet black stone, peculiar to the region. Would have loved to ship some of this back, but settled for a tiny turtle instead. Turtles and frogs symbolise fertility and water . Love both.

This little Aztec dancer sure knew his moves.

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BlogDosts, I am in a bit of a flap. Do you think this space is like Tripadvisor? Should I be paying attention to Big B's blog and taking tips from it??? These were the two comments last week that got me thinking. Let me address the first - I enjoy travel. I like sharing images and experiences. I have asked you guys in the past and most of you have given me a thumbs up on posting both. Are we still on the same page? Do you want me to keep a travel diary here or not?

About Mr. B, there are basic differences. He is a superstar with a gigantic fan base across the world. He has a constituency to nurture. That is what stars, politicians and performing artists do. Nurture fans. Feed them regularly. Perhaps his blog is monetised... it doesn't matter. We are different creatures with different motivations for blogging. Shall we leave it at that?

I love this space because it belongs to us - both , you and me. We meet here to gup shup - no agenda. No strings attached. I am not peddling anything. I have nothing to push. Nobody pays me to be here. Just as nobody forces you to visit. That's the best part of blogging. It is so democratic! I wait to read your comments and I'd like to believe you wait for the next post with as much eagerness. But... it's time for some straight talk. And I'd like to get it from you directly...

I'll be leaving for Pune tomorrow. The camera is sulking and stays home!

Happy Independence Day.... and please Anna, forget that fast.

Shravan Ka Mahina and all that....

2011-08-10T17:58:00.003+05:30

I am still in BMM mode, as you can tell! This is just to give you some idea of the scale. Bhojan for 4,000 people in one go is quite a feat.... and what a bhojan!

That's our regular Blogdost ( and my good friend!) Aparna Velankar. She is the erudite person who opened up the Marathi world for me when she translated my first book ( she has translated three so far, and is working on the fourth). As a very successful author and journalist (Lokmat Group), Aparna enjoys a wide readership, not just in India but overseas as well. Here we are at the BMM dinner. I can't resist telling you about Aparna's Paithani tunics, which were so smart and attractive, she was constantly stopped by delegates wanting to know the source! I got it out of her, but am not telling!

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I love Shravan with all its rituals. I feel chaste and 'pure', observing strict monday fasts and eating shudh vegetarian for a month. It makes me feel terribly virtuous! But more than that, I enjoy the discipline. This monday, I went to the historic Babulnath Temple at Chowpatty for the evening aarti. I was delighted to see how well organised the whole thing was, with young volunteers to keep the surging crowds moving along briskly in orderly lines. It was just the sight of the pumped up security at the temple premises that disheartened me. Well... this is the real state of the world today. Who knows which crazed person is lurking in the shadows armed with explosives? Babulnath has been a favourite haunt since my college days. It continues to retain its old magic, particularly the darkened lair where sadhus with matted hair play the dumru vigourously and the air is thick with 'that' smoke ( one can get high just by hanging around and breathing!). Post-aarti, appropriately uplifted in spirits, I took my children for a Faraal Feast ( it's a Shravan special), to my all time favourite vegetarian restaurant - Soam. 10,000 calories later, we rolled home, happily satiated - no, 'trupt'! Like I said - I love Shravan. Even if it makes me gain, not lose kilos , while I fast!

Chicago Calling! And Kween Kat, too!

2011-08-09T19:24:00.006+05:30

Someone, please tell me - does Chicago's most famous resident live in this apartment or not? It's a great looking building, and one of the priciest, thanks to its waterfront location. I was told the real estate developer convinced investors he'd sold a flat to Oprah - and boom! went the price. That's the power of true celebrity!

Chicago retains its unique position as the most dramatic city, architecturally speaking, in America, and even the rest of the world. The Sears Towers may have been renamed, but nobody remembers or cares . They are a symbol of the city, just as much as the early Anish Kapoor 'Bean' in the Millennium Park, that reflects not just the city's sleek skyline, but the sky, too. This picture was taken by desi tourists from Kolkata, who walked up for a quick chat. Speaking Bangla in Chicago was fun!

Legendary American architect Frank Lloyd Wright would have been proud of today's Chicago. I took a canal tour from the bridge across the famous Wrigley's building. It was informative and enjoyable, including the guide's asides on the Magnificent Mile closeby. Did I shop there? Yes. But only at Macy's, where I bought some terrific 'jeggings' that saw me through the rest of the long trip.

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This appeared in Bombay Times last week...

What Makes Kat the Smartest Actor in Bollywood?

From a ‘Goongi Goodiya’ to a female superstar is no small achievement, especially for a foreigner who did not speak a word of Hindi when she got her Bollywood break. It is really quite an extraordinary story, and one must hand it to Katrina Kaif ( shall we start calling her Kween Kat?) for pulling off a major coup. Today, there is nobody in her league. And not a single person in the extra critical, highly competitive, super bitchy world of Bollywood has anything nasty to say about the desi Barbie Doll. How did she do it? Well, if one discounts the Salman factor, I’d say she’s got to where she has because she happens to be extraordinarily smart! Plus, hardworking, disciplined and pleasant at all times. Had that not been the case would she have been able to juggle her career, all those besotted men in her life, her fans and family…. why her daily routine which by by standards is exceedingly punishing? All this, minus stress , minus tantrums, minus attitude, minus scandal. Managing Salman is in itself a major feat. That she has done so even after the break –up of their intimate relationship ( something she refused to acknowledge publicly) says a lot about her capacity to handle her emotional life very shrewdly displaying rare maturity and grace. It’s amazing and amusing that she kept three guys happy on her birthday eve, with a hop, skip and jump across studios and party venues to greet ( separately, of course) SRK, Salman and possibly Ranbir. Juggler Kat and her jadoo, gasped admirers !Despite years and years of being identified as ‘Salman’s girl’, she stayed miles away from any camp. She cleverly projected herself as a ‘friend of the Khan family’ and was very visible at all the major Khan do’s in the past. To give the entire credit for her success to Salman would be wrong. But this much is true, Salman’s support for any young actress ensures two things – a great break and total protection from other industry wolves. As Salman’s lady love, Katrina had to deal with just one guy – Salman himself. Since nobody wants to mess with this Khan, Kat became instantly out-of-bounds for other heroes circling around for the kill.
She worked strenuously to learn even a few basic sentences in Hindi. Her ‘speech’ in ‘Rajniti’ was nothing short of a triumph. More recently, she managed a few , simple baby sentences in Hinglish for ‘Zindagi…” relying more on her flirtatious chemistry with Hritik Roshan ( the kiss could have lingered some more!). As of now, Super Kat has no rivals. Her personality is a big plus – whether on-screen or off it, Katrina projects a certain wholesomeness that provides a sharp contrast to the other slightly trashy, definitely fixed up rivals. And those girls can actually act!! Good one, Katrina