Kissa Thappad Ka....

Andre Agassi : Love All, Tell All!!

I am astonished by Andre Agassi’s drug abuse revelations in his just released autobiography ‘Open’ ( great title), aptly dubbed the sports world’s ‘Dope Opera’.
Why now? It can’t be to sell the book – he is a millionaire, and so his wife Steffi Graff in her own right. He doesn’t need the publicity – his fan following is vast.It is a lose-lose situation whichever way one looks at it. He has risked his place in the Tennis Hall of Fame, and shocked his countless admirers by admitting he lied to the ATP, the powerful men’s governing body . And now he is mewing about how all he’s asking for is compassion in place of condemnation. Well, Martina Navratilova for one, is in no mood to sympathise with Agassi and has condemned his conduct, comparing him to baseball pitcher Roger Clemens, who is embroiled in a doping allegation. Boris Becker has accused him of greed.While Agassi himself insists he took
Crystal meth, a recreational drug, to combat depression. As an adult, that is his option. But as a world class sportsman, idolized by millions, his crime is that he lied about it after failing a drug test. That is cheating. And nobody likes a cheat.
The intriguing part of this on-going controversy is why, after so many years, has Agassi suddenly decided to come clean and confess all. One can understand his ‘wig abuse’ admission ( he was balding prematurely and chose to wear a flamboyant, blond wig while playing, so as to impress his fans ). That has to do with personal vanity. It’s perfectly acceptable for high profile celebs to resort to cosmetic tricks in order to keep their followers hooked. What’s a toupee or breast enhancement between friends? Most of our iconic movie stars resort to such props – it is one of Bollywood’s best kept secrets. But deception of the Agassi kind is not acceptable and is bound to create reverbrations in the billion dollar world of competitive sport. Agassi may also be stripped of his past titles, and worse, stripped of all honour and dignity.
So why did he do it?? His tell- all tale has triggered off an international debate. My own theory is that someone in the know must have threatened to expose him. It’s the old blackmailer’s trick. Rather than risk such ignominy, Agassi decided to pre-empt the move by revealing the dirty details himself. Agassi’s ‘misery machine’ ( familiar story of a brutal, abusive father etc etc) may find a few takers. His publishers may be rubbing their hands in glee at the prospect of selling millions of copies. But Andre Agassi has disgraced himself and his family forever. One feels for his kids – can’t be fun being mocked at school for no fault of theirs.How will the scandal pan out?? The next few weeks will be interesting to watch…there goes another personal hero!

From farmers’ suicides to citizens taking their own lives, there seems to be some sort of an epidemic on. As if dealing with typhoid, malaria and cholera is not bad enough, we now have the rather macabre scenario of Mumbaikars who can’t handle the growing stress and decide to say goodbye to it all. The latest one being the 24-year-old Bhandup trader, Dinesh Jain, who killed his wife and two young daughters before hanging himself. An 18- year-old IIT-Mumbai student also shot himself with his father’s handgun, saying he was unhappy with life. All these are ominous signs of a society under tremendous pressure. And we are not at all prepared to deal with panic attacks that lead to suicide.
We have a brand new State cabinet in place. Of course,there are many heavyweight political issues to tackle on a war footing. But what about addressing the human ones, too? Or is that too much to expect from men whose sole obsession is to grab power….and once grabbed, hang on to it!
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I can’t wait to watch ‘Natrang’, the Marathi film ( with English sub-titles) that is the talk of the recently- concluded MAMI film festival. Atul Kulkarni has put in another brilliant performance as a wrestler who is forced to become a ‘naachya’ in a tamasha troupe. And Atul is also the star of another Marathi film, “ Sukhaant’ – The Final Wish, which deals with euthanasia and is generating a big buzz in discerning circles.

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'Kissa Thappad Ka'. It was bound to happen. It has happened. Abu Azmi is dealing with a slap on his face. And he didn't turn the other cheek. Is Hindi really and truly the ONLY National language according to the Indian Constitution? The debate gets bigger and bolder. Arnab Goswami, Rajdeep Sardesai and Barkha Dutt want me to come on their shows tonight and discuss the pandemonium that disrupted the swearing-in ceremony at the Mantralaya today, when Azmi refused to take the oath in Marathi , pointing out that Hindi is the National language..... provoking Raj Thackeray's guys to attack Azmi and deliver a stinging slap . I am in two and three and four minds.....

Celebs for sale....

Celebrity Journalism – Desi style

I plead guilty. Thirty odd years ago, I was encouraged by my then bossman, Nari Hira to conceptualise another popular magazine, after having launched and run the path- breaking ‘Stardust’ for a decade. This is how ‘Society’ was born. It was perhaps India’s first honest –to- goodness celeb mag that chronicled all that was good, bad and ugly about the belle monde of that era. Like ‘Stardust’, the new arrival was an instant hit in urban India … and is still around in its original avatar. Having tasted success with these two ‘products’, I foolishly imagined I could launch one of my own. That’s how I started ‘Celebrity’ which struggled to survive for three years before shutting down. I lost money. I felt terrible. It was a terrific magazine. But I was a lousy businesswoman.
Today, the scenario has changed so dramatically when it comes to celeb journalism, I am constantly awestruck by the brazenness of it all. Anybody who has ever made it to Page 3 ( even paid big bucks to get there) is deemed an ‘official’ celebrity. Once that tag is attached to an individual, a free market situation does the rest. There is a biz opportunity in every celeb sneeze and squeeze. Media -made celebs have realized the potential and swiftly moved to monetize what they see as their ‘worth’. Let’s take two or three recent examples, starting with a starlet called Sameera Reddy. Lovely girl, by the way. The original ‘Sexy Sam’. According to reports in tabloids, she threw a royal fit at Mumbai airport recently when she was denied entry into the VIP lounge, which is reserved for – yup – VIPs!! Obviously, the officer in charge of the lounge did not put this Bollywood starlet into the same category as say, a P. Chidambaram. Or more realistically speaking, a Shah Rukh Khan. In their case, there would definitely be security issues to deal with in case of a delayed flight. But that is not the case with a Sameera. How many people even know who she is?? Yet, in her own eyes, she equates herself with bonafide VIPs. How did this end? She was politely and firmly escorted to a business class lounge, which is what her business class ticket entitled her to. The mobs she said she feared, left her alone, except for a few pesky kids who were brushed off by Sulking Sam. Clearly A case of delusional behaviour. But at least it was a cashless transaction – the Lord be praised.
Take a look at the upside. Our lissome and smart Shilpa Shetty is soon to marry. The entire world has been given the minutest details of her romance with a certain Raj Kunder – Jab they Met – and what followed. Shilpa is a charming and an extremely well- liked individual. But her standing in Bollywood is still where it was before she shot to fame as the late- Jade Goody’s bete noire in Britain’s much- watched reality show , ‘Big Brother’. After that win, Shilpa positioned herself as a brand worth investing in. And she found a besotted investor-suitor in the much- married Raj.Realising the commercial potential of their new-found togetherness, both of them decided to hire a publicist to feed choice tidbits of the growing pyaar-vyaar to a hungry tabloid press. No problem. That’s how celeb journalism works in the West ( think Posh Beckham, Madonna et al). Today, on the threshold of becoming man and wife, the blissed out couple is going for the kill ( think Catherine Zeta- Jones and Michael Douglas). Their wedding is up for grabs. Going, going, gone to the highest bidder. To kick off the bidding process, Mr. Kunder has offered a bouquet of photo-ops as ‘exclusives’ to a high end publication. In an email to editors ,he provided precise details about the engagement ring ( 2.5 million pounds, if I remember right), and offered access to the magical moment itself – the proposal!! All this, for a big fat fee , of course.
Wake up, India. We have arrived!!
There is money to be made in dem celebs. Gone is the coy era of demanding privacy. Now is the time to demand money. Nobody is blinking. Scoops, scandals, affairs, weddings, funerals, births…. everything is for sale. Just like in the West. What’s more, everyone is cool with it – readers, viewers, consumers of assorted media platforms.It works great for all the players. It needed a Raj Kunder to show amateurs how to play the celeb game professionally. If his strategy works, it would mean that technically, the wedding comes for free, so does the ring and everything else. A few eyebrows will be raised. Well… bugger them. Kunder is not holding a gun to anybody’s head. If a media house is ready to pay serious money to cover the wedding (honeymoon , too?? Or is that a separate deal?), it’s perfectly kosher. If the couple pulls off the coup, trust me, all the rest will follow. Nothing is sacred in these times of ferocious media wars. Look at Michael Jackson’s father blandly stating that his son is worth much more dead than alive! And demanding free rooms in posh hotels by boasting his presence there would generate great publicity for the property! Bollywood is still taking baby steps. Cash and carry is here to stay. Deal with it, guys.

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A day filled with love and longing. Or it could be plain boredom. The sun sets a bit too early and the sky looks ominous, not pretty. Mumbai is gearing up for the anniversary of the macabre 26\11 attacks. A hotel in Pune announced a really , really tacky 'hospitality' gesture that has shocked the trade and everybody else. The management of 'Pride' is offering special deals to tourists who dare visit the city on 26\11. The deal itself is crazy beyond belief - hard cash! Other hoteliers have expressed their horror at this abominable plan and condemned it roundly. Meanwhile Qasab's trial drags on. And newspapers are filled with chilling testimonies of those who were directly affected. The strangest media story comes from a young woman who has finally gone to the press since the cops refused to entertain her all this while. She has given a pretty vivid and convincing account of actually seeing some of the terrorists loitering in the locality (Colaba) two days prior to the attacks. She was shot in the stomach by one of them while eating dinner at Leopold's. When she, bleeding and badly wounded, crawled across the street to the police station, they shooed her away. Isn't that bizarre? Well, now that her story is in print, she has been summoned by the cops finally to record her statement. Am following her account closely. Personally, I am in a bit of a fix. Several organisations have been hounding me to come and speak at various functions being planned to mark the day. But I feel worried and concerned that these do-gooders are using this ghastly occasion as a peg for publicity and that what may happen will be another meaningless farce featuring the usual suspects. Creating an anthem for Mumbai etc ? Frankly...it all sounds phoney to me. And yet, I feel terrible saying, " Sorry. I know you guys mean well. But count me out." Let's see how it goes...

Save those kisses, sir...

Such a strange day. Spent it listlessly looking at old diaries. Yes, I write detailed diaries - always have, since I was a little girl And all the entries sound like columns!! Even at age 12! Well, today I was searching for something specific. But I got so distracted reading about an encounter with Richard Gere a few years ago at Parmeshwar Godrej's palatial home that I fell off my chair laughing. He is quite a character. For all his Buddhist beliefs and closeness to the Dalai Lama, he is far from humble. In fact, I found him sharp, sardonic and arrogant. This was just before he got embroiled in the Shilpa Shetty kissing controversy and had an arrest warrant out for him! I'm not sure about the status of that warrant. Perhaps, his long absence from Mumbai has something to do with it?? That infamous kissing clip is worth studying, though. It was replayed on some tv channel recently, and I still feel it was offensive and downright cheeky, given the context ( an AIDS awareness programme for truckers). This was no friendly peck on the cheek, it was a full-on , slobbering attack, with Gere plastering several noisy smooches all over Shilpa's face. The poor girl looked startled as she awkwardly pushed him away - but he had her firmly in his grip, in that old Broadway position ( amorous man flips giggly bimbo over backwards) - and Shilpa could do nothing but grin and bear it.

There are many desi Geres in our lechy society, and a lot of women find it hard to fend them off when the ridiculous 'mwaah mwaah' nonsense takes place . I resist with all my might ... and succeed most times. I begin by doing a 'namastey' from a safe distance. If that is ignored, I extend my hand. Often, that's the mistake. Once the lech gets that hand, he refuses to let go. Worse, he pulls hard on that hand and shoves his horrible face close to yours. Wrenching the hand away at this point, is rather difficult. That leaves two options : you nimbly dodge that disgusting kiss by sharply turning to greet someone else ( the wrist can get seriously damaged during such a manoeuvre), or the lech ends up kissing the back of your head - and looking supremely foolish! It's better than submitting to unwarranted , unsolicited and totally ugh 'chummas' from randoms.

I decide who gets a kiss from me. It is my option. Anybody who tries that old slimey trick, risks getting publicly snubbed. GEDDIT????

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Saif-Kareena. Ranbir-Katrina. Two pairs. Two movies. Lots of money riding on both. I prefer the latter. What's your verdict??

Suhaag Raat for sale???

Momentous day, in a way. Couldn't have imagined I'd be watching a close relative's eye surgery as it took place - no, not in the O.T. but from an adjoining room, on a tv monitor that was recording each procedure. Dr. Ashok Shroff is one of the best ophthalmic surgeons in India, with impeccable credentials. It was a privilege watching him operate with such elegance and lightness of touch. His fingers moved like a graceful dancer's in a well choreographed sequence that dazzled me. ME!!!!! Someone who is so squeamish about injections and needles. I am seriously needle- phobic and close my eyes when someone is getting an injection - even if that is on the screen. And here I was paying such close attention to Dr. Shroff''s every move ( magnified, of course, and doubly scarey). Now that I know I won't faint at the sight of an eye when a cataract is being pulverised before getting it sucked out , I'll be able to handle myself less hysterically while donating blood.

Playing peeping tom was an awesome experience on one level. Sure. I shed a small bit of my earlier phobia.Do I want a replay?? Hell, no!! Even this was far too upclose and personal for my taste.

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I happened to read an email that was forwarded to me by a responsible person, just to give me an idea of how aggressively the celeb game is being played these days. It was from a big fish flogging the rights to various functions that had anything at all to do with his own forthcoming wedding!!!! He was offering juicy details and tantalising teasers about every 'event' associated with the 'shaadi', starting with his formal proposal " on bended knee." How unique and original is that, I ask. He'd also provided payment details of the gigantic rock he'd be giving his lady love, helpfully adding he'd speak to the jewellers about an 'exclusive'. The price he quoted for the ring could buy an island in the Carribean. It made me wonder if the man was plain smart or entirely besharam. If the mags had been crazy enough to actually bid for and buy his story for the price he was demanding, he'd have got the engagement ring and his high profile wedding for free!! I guess some editors have better sense than to fall for such a Cheap Charlie's ghatiya tricks. He was told to go flog his two bit 'exclusive' to some other bakra. So far, nobody is biting. Who knows, he may peddle the rights to his suhaag raat next!!! Now that would be something given the yummy bride.

The buck stops here for Boyle's 'Slumdog' kids...

The business of being ‘slumdogs’….

No more money for Rubina. No car for Azhar. Danny Boyle has spoken. This time, it is final. He is not open to further negotiations. And the two slumdog kids can take a walk.
‘Danny Uncle’ has made it clear that his settlement terms are linked to the kids attending school on a regular basis – bunking classes (as Rubina and Azhar have been doing) means giving up the extra dosh. All this is sound, sensible stuff, coming from a person who has been pretty fair and generous. The scarey part is how such young children are being tutored to ask for more… and more. Assuming it is their greedy family members briefing them to make unreasonable demands and extort as much as they can from Danny, what sort of a nasty effect will such a venal attitude have on the bachchas later? Their lives have been touched and transformed in ways that are complex and daunting. For better or worse, they will never ever be able to adjust to their old, shabby existence of drudgery and abject poverty. But that still does not mean Danny owes them anything more than has been offered. A 25 lakhs flat for Rubina is, by any standards, a pretty good deal. But now her family has upped the demand to a 40 lakhs apartment. Tomorrow they could ask for 1 crore. Where does it stop? Azhar insists he wants a ‘small car’ because he is suddenly ‘scared’ to travel by auto rickshaw! This is not about whether Danny can afford to finance these fresh demands. It is about greed and exploitation. Such a pity that the children are being dragged through this unfortunate mess. Well…. the buck stops here, says Boyle. Go back to school, say his trustees. Or risk losing the promised bonanza. My guess is that the families of the kids will try their best to squeeze every extra rupee out of the two golden geese – education be damned. In which case, they’ll end up losing it all – the money, home or the chance to work with Boyle again.
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I must pump Arjun Rampal’s hand the next time I meet him. By speaking up about the fiasco at Rohit Bal’s fashion show in Delhi, he has opened a can of worms. About time someone had the guts to point out just how hideously commercial the fashion scenario has become of late. This whole business of getting Bollywood showstoppers initially started as a gimmick. Designers who had a good relationship with star clients, got their buddies to walk the ramp for them, knowing their presence would generate great press. This progressed to the stars plugging their favourite designers and getting them hired for their movies. What followed was minor and major stars asking for big , fat fees to walk. Sensing the potential of such an arrangement, everybody jumped into the fray. The publicity generated was worth the money spent. Stars realized very quickly that by strutting across the catwalk for two minutes, they could pocket a cool 30 lakhs or more AND make it to the front pages of most dailies, plus hog tv prime time, too. Soon fat cat producers bought into the game and started to use this platform for promoting their forthcoming films. Big money was offered to designers\sponsors to hire a star jodi and derive extra mileage for an unreleased film. This cosy arrangement was working well - till Arjun broke the bhanda, after he and Dino were unceremoniously dumped at the last minute, with Katrina and Ranbir hotstepping it, instead. We are also equally sick of seeing Bollywood stars on the covers of fashion magazines , which somehow make them look ridiculous and unattractive by styling them in an exaggerated way that strips them of their personality completely. Editors claim they are helpless – issues featuring movie stars outsell issues featuring professional models, ten to one! Maybe. But frankly, if readers want to see Bollywood stars on the covers of glossies, they can pick up any one of the countless fanzines. It really is time for fashion to reclaim fashion. And do so on its own terms.
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Oh dear, Oh dear.... I fear I made myself MOST unpopular with a group of high school and college students who were running a mock United Nations event at Jaihind College. I bet they wished they'd never invited me! Well.... they had.... so there I was at their concluding function at which prizes were to be given and speeches made. Since I'd been told about their newsletter called 'The Ugly Truth', I asked for copies . Big mistake!! Had someone informed me it was not a newsletter per se, but an irreverent, daily scandal sheet meant strictly for the delegates, I would have saved my fire. But the kind of cheap comments and blatantly sexist remarks I read, made me see red.... and blue.... and purple. I let fly.... especially since most of the cracks were aimed at a guy called Bucky. He was mercilessly mocked for being gay or 'swinging both ways'! I flew to the defence of Bucky....gays the world over, and was frothing at the mouth, berating the editors for being homophobic etc. Guess what?? Right after I'd finished my tongue lashing, some 'delegates' came upto me to say it was really okay to crack those jokes, and that Bucky LOVED the attention. Ooooops! One guy explained in all seriousness, " Gays are totally cool with it. It's like Blacks in America calling one another 'nigger'. It's just a joke - no offence."
I want to ask you blogdosts out there if this is really so ????? Did I miss something??????????

Why M.F.Husain must come home....

M.F. Husain – Marathi Manoos

Mumbai is the only city in the world M.F.Husain calls ‘home’. Husainsaab is as Maharashtrian as ‘jhunka-bhakri or vada- pav. Mumbai has been the painter’s home for close to eight decades. It is the one destination he celebrated as a very young, very broke aspiring artist when he got here from his birthplace, the holy city of Pandharpur in Maharashtra. He embraced Mumbai and Mumbai embraced him. This passionate love affair continued over the years, with the prolific artist graduating from painting film hoardings to putting India on the international map as its foremost contemporary artist. His horses galloped across the world, breaking records and he himself became the desi art world’s most powerful brand. But through it all, he remained the quintessential Mumbaikar at heart, prowling the city’s gullies ( barefoot, of course), stopping for a quick ‘cutting chai’ at the nearest Irani café, and chronicling every aspect of our drab lives in bold, brilliant strokes that startled viewers with their virility and assurance.
Today, the 94-year-old Mumbaikar wants to come home. The same home he was forced to flee four years ago. He has been living in exile, tormented by the thought he may never set foot in the land of his birth again. Isn’t it time we showed enough grace, courage, courtesy…just plain and simple ‘tameez’… by welcoming him back to his motherland? Yes, the very same ‘Bharatmata’ he stands accused of having desecrated? Without going into the politics of that complex issue, let it be said that those who are vociferously opposing his return and threatening a frail, old man with violence, are the ones who have appropriated the role of the nation’s moral keepers. Isn’t it high time we grew up and took a more enlightened view of the situation…. regardless? One can debate the merits of the numerous cases against the artist till the cows come home. This is not about legality, but human decency. Can we not find it within ourselves to close that ugly chapter and give Husainsaab the benefit of the doubt? Why do his critics assume he had wicked intentions when he chose to paint the subjects he did?What did he have to gain by inviting trouble – big trouble? He has been hugely successful for decades, he doesn’t need publicity stunts to sell his works. Nor is he dumb enough to offend people deliberately and not be aware of the consequences.
Perhaps what Husainsaab had failed to factor in was the growing intolerance in our society – the same society that once prided itself on its acceptance of plurality and diverging views. The same society that still calls itself a democracy but comes down cruelly on anyone who doesn’t toe the line. The tragedy in Husain’s case is that his shrillest and most virulent critics are those who have never seen his work! These are the hired hands of political parties out to create mischief and propagate nasty, narrow- minded theories designed to spread hate, misinformation… and more. It is they who are far more dangerous to our society than any artist. These are the same people who encourage a non-entity with zero artistic merit to ‘fix’ the nonegarian genius by painting Husain himself in the nude! What pathetic levels we have descended to, if we genuinely believe we are punishing one of our greatest living legends by stripping him off his clothes on a canvas.
Husainsaab’s anguished ‘crie de coeur’ has obviously not reached the right ears so far. Political heavyweights in Delhi are said to be sympathetic, but cautious.With the Congress in power at the centre and state, the climate is slightly more relaxed, less paranoid … but as Husainsaab has pointed out, who can protect him if even his art can’t be protected?Who has the guts to stand up for him ( and others in similar situations)? Most intellectuals have lost their voices, his own contemporaries are ‘scared’ of retribution, galleries refuse to show his work since they find it too ‘risky’. That leaves the ‘aam aadmi’ – the most sensible, fair and aware individual in the country. Why not ask him? How about a national debate – should M.F. Husain come home before it is too late? Let the public see his work in its totality – unedited and unprejudiced - and let the people of India take that call unitedly.
Husain is a proud Indian and Mumbaikar. Our city has seen enough violence and venom. As the macabre 26\11 anniversary rolls up, it is time to ask ourselves whether we wish to perpetuate the politics of hate….and at what cost? Why not choose this significant date to get Husain back, and mark his return with open arms… and more importantly, an open mind?Why not demonstrate to those who are determined to persecute him that we are prepared to stand up for a man whose art transcends the narrow confines of religious jingoism and twisted interpretations that serve petty political interests?
If that happens, I’ll be there at the airport to welcome him home.
How many of you are willing to join me??

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It is always such a pleasure to be in Pune, especially when the weather is this crisp and delicious. What that means is simple - I over ate - starting with a luscious duck ( from Bangalore), and a rainbow trout ( from the Himalayas ). I was there to inaugurate an art show featuring emerging talent from Pune. It's an annual event called SHLOK, which is put together by young Sheetal Darda. She plans to take it to Dubai and London next.

I met up with family as well - my husband's sister Ratna lives in Pune, and I was delighted to meet her grandson Drik, who is fluent in Marathi at age 7. Raj T. would approve! Ratna and her daughter Rina , produced a Bong banquet, which starred the famous Rui Maach, besides kosha maangsho ( outstanding - must get the recipe), dahi chicken, begun bhaaja and what is popularly known as 'plastic chaatney' (raw papaya in a fragrant, sugar syrup). What a brilliant meal - and let me not forget the roshogullas. No wonder my masseuse told me later I'd put on weight ( instantly???). I totally ignored her unnecessary comment.... and ate some more .

Oh.... in case you notice the weight gain in the Kingfisher Calendar Hunt show on ndtv Good Times ( the repeat is on monday 12 noon and tuesday at 10pm ), please don't tell me about it! I have received great reactions - so allow me to glow!!

Our Invisible C.M.

Phir Wohi Din Aaye….

Maharashtra has a new C.M. – well, a recycled one. Congratulations Ashok Chavan! Now, will you kindly stand up and be counted?? We, the people of this city would really like to get to know you. At least, a little. We barely recognize you since you have not taken the trouble to interact with the aam aadmi and aam aurat of Mumbai. I have frequently called you the Invisible C.M. – not to put you down, but to galvanise you into engaging with the public.You seem like an affable chap, and clearly ‘Madam’ is pleased with you. But is that enough? Why not please us also? It is important for the chief minister of any state to reach out to its people and familiarize them with plans and blueprints for progress – assuming they exist in the first place. Madam clearly trusts you, and has astutely provided a second chance . Establish your credentials immediately. Your predecessor was an ever- smiling, cheerful bloke who had gone flat out to court Mumbai. Never mind that when Mumbai most needed him ( 26\11), he wasn’t around. Or, at any rate, what came through was ineptness and delayed reactions. His ‘terror tour’ of the hotel lobby, accompanied by a movie man, finally did him in. After that, his fate was sealed. Not that it mattered – he made it to Delhi. And now claims he is perfectly happy being there. The point is, Vilasrao Deshmukh knew the art of making friends and winning people ( maybe he had read Dale Carnegie in a marathi translation ). His social diary was more crowded than a Page 3 perennial, and those who had interacted with him, invariably came away praising his people skills.
You, on the other hand, remain an unknown entity. Granted, nine months in office earlier, were not enough to establish yourself. But come on… you are a second generation politician. Your late father, S.B.Chavan, was an astute politician and Congress stalwart. You have a natural advantage and headstart. You are young (51), educated (science graduate with an MBA attached). You’ve been in active politics since your Youth Congress days. You’ve even worked in Vilasrao’s cabinet as a minister for industries and cultural affairs. You are no green horn or novice. So… get on with it. The people’s mandate is with your party. There are no excuses and escape routes. You have a free hand to lead the state out of its present mess. That’s your job description.
You have your 52nd birthday coming up this week. The people of Maharashtra wish you well. You have made the right noises after your appointment by stating, “…. now in the golden jubilee year of the state, we want to reach the top. That too in a time bound manner.” The operative words here are ‘time -bound’. We are going to hold you to that promise. We will be waiting and watching very closely this time. You may have delivered seats in the election for Madam, for which you are being richly rewarded. So it goes in politics - no issues. But your time starts now. You have also said you want to keep Maharashtra’s flag flying high. It is long overdue.Just as you have declared ‘time-bound’ programmes for our state, we, its beleaguered citizens are also giving you a ‘time- bound’ period to prove yourself. We want action. We want it now. We know, Maharashtra isn’t an instant pizza. But we also know politicians make tall claims. This time, mere words won’t do. Deliver – or we get our money back. Just like with ‘late arrival’ pizzas. Good luck. And Happy Birthday.
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I have just come back after watching 'This is It'. This really is it, you know. And I get the eerie feeling MJ knew it, too. The man is extraordinary , hypnotic and rivetting. I couldn't take my eyes off the screen for even a micro second. We are so lucky to get this rare and precious glimpse into a top class professional's preparations for a concert. It shows a person not just dedicated to the highest standards of his musical gifts, but someone who understands every small nuance of that mighty industry we call 'entertainment'. No detail is too small for MJ's critical eyes and ears. When he urges his back -up singers to 'nurture the music', you can sense his tenderness. Or when he asks his musicians to 'bathe the tracks in moonlight', perform 'with love' you understand the poet in him. He looks just amazing - lithe and beautiful. And filled with divine energy. He certainly does not give the impression that he is sickly or pumped up with drugs. MJ NEED NOT HAVE DIED! What a tragic waste of such supreme talent. What also comes through is his generosity of spirit and immense grace. He encourages a slightly overawed lead guitarist to take centrestage and ' shine' , since it is her moment! He constantly thanks the team and applauds the efforts put in by even the lowliest technicians. 'God bless you', he repeats, each time someone does something well. Goodness and love radiate from his being. And so does his genius.
Even though he was working with the world's top choreographers, he knew precisely which dance moves he wished to make - he knew instinctively when to pause, when to linger, and how to maximise a dramatic moment. There is much to learn from MJ.
It made me wonder whether we have anyone of his calibre with the same level of commitment and perfectionism. To watch MJ rehearse is to understand and appreciate the magic of the 'one and only'. God bless him.