Break ke Baad? Boredom, yaar!!

Enjoyed an arty Sunday after a long time. First halt was at the Jehangir Art Gallery where Viveek Sharma was hosting his one man show. I have been following this young man's work for over five years and have enormous faith in his future. Today, he is represented by top galleries in Europe and is in residency programmes at various international universities . I am really happy for him. Recognition has come to Viveek at the right time. The current show titled 'My City.... My Dreams', is his tribute to Mumbai. Viveek, a nocturnal creature, captures the city after midnight in a series of 'electrifying' paintings - almost neon. Born in 1968, Viveek resembles a modern day Christ, speaks fluent Marathi, and is good looking enough to make it as the global face of a top fashion brand.He values his work but is realistic about pricing it right. I told him to rechristen himself - "Why not Gandhi-man?" I suggested, after he told me about his Gandhi paintings which sell very well across Europe. And we all know how hot the Mahatma is right now!

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The other art experience was less direct. I was talking to Margaret Mascarenhas, my coolest friend from Goa. She has just finished curating Prison Art - a show she has been diligently working on for more than a year. Inmates of the Aguada Jail in Goa have produced the most unexpected images, writings, even performance art, that goes on display in Goa on 9th December. I'll be right there. It is a part of Raj and Dipti Salgaocar's charity- linked art initiative, and frankly, anything Margaret undertakes, has to be pretty damn good!

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"This appeared in Bombay Times today...

Jaago Mumbai, Jaago….

Strange how impassive and unmoved the average Mumbaikar was during the second anniversary of the 26\11 terror attacks. A foreign journalist who had come over for an interview the same afternoon, mentioned she had gone to Marine Drive in the morning to watch the Police Parade. Shocked at the miserable attendance, poor participation and obvious indifference of citizens, she asked why we are such an apathetic lot in a city that remains as insecure today as it was two years ago ( latest scam involves state ordered speedboats that aren’t bullet proof!). She also mentioned her disappointment at the parade itself which was listless and far from impressive. If anything, it showed our cops in a shabby light. They looked ill equipped and far from smart… hardly an inspiring image to project in a vulnerable city. But then, that is how we are. Accompanying the journo was another person who was staying at the Taj ( she’s a regular there) and talking about feeling spooked with all the gunmen ( security forces) prowling around in the corridors while the windows in her room were being covered with black out papers. Obviously, no chances could be taken that crucial day, especially since aerial attacks had been mentioned in the past. Even at this sensitive venue, our cops were just about visible.Unless they were in plainclothes and pretending to be guests. Perhaps our apparent lack of interest in our own safety has to do with frustration and deep disappointment . The average Mumbaikar is a highly disillusioned person, who believes his\her fate is now in the hands of the Almighty, since clearly, nobody in government ( state or at the centre) is treating Mumbai’s security as a top priority. C.M.s come and go – they change as frequently as the unpredictable weather. The brand new Mr. Clean has yet to do or say something of any consequence. He seems more particular about keeping his hair neatly combed during photo ops. The deputy C.M. is being watched closely by those who aren’t sure about his moves, given the history ( Uncle Pawar and Cousin Supriya looking over his shoulder). While all these political and family dramas are being played out, the Mumbaikar waits for some good to emerge and may even have started to actually envy Nitesh Kumar’s Bihar and the Biharis!!! Who knows…. if things continue to deteriorate at this speed in Maharashtra, soon we’ ll see a reverse migration – out of job, angry Maharashtrians heading to Bihar in search of better opportunities!! Now that would be something. Right, Raj?

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I like Bhansali’s ( SLB to you) attitude. He claimed in a recent interview, “ I don’t make money, I make movies.” Spoken grandly like a great master with an authentic oeuvre a la Fellini. Antonioni.Polanski.Ghatak.Ray. If there are besotted financial fans of a film maker out there willing to shell out crores for someone’s monumental ego and self indulgence, nobody should grudge the generous gesture. But I always thought commercially released movies were about attracting an audience, recovereing the huge investment involved, and heaven help us - even raking in profits!Movies are a shared
experience in which the filmmaker draws the audience into his \her world.If it’s personal cinema Bhansali is referring to, then you make home movies for family and friends. In which case, money ( someone else’s at that!) is not the objective . Bhansali reminds me of authors who claim airily that they don’t write ‘commercial books’. If a book is published, put into book stores, and has a price tag on it, it automatically becomes a ‘commercial’ book. Or else, why not write memos to yourself, keep diaries?
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Break ke Baad? Boredom, boss. Break ke Peheley, bhi.

Awesome Ambani Mansion - first hand!

This appeared in the Times of India this morning. Since it was on the front page, it attracted an insane amount of attention from world media. I was away for the day in Pune... and the calls kept interrupting my much needed break. Are you surprised????
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Valhalla? Xanadu? No. It’s Awesome Antilia that’s Mumbai’s newest landmark!

“ This is not a home – it is a statement!” gasped an invitee ( one of eighty hand picked guests), standing on a windy terrace garden in the world’s most expensive private residence. There was shock and awe in his voice. Absolutely no debate there. It is indeed a major statement! The same guest continued, “ Some cities are known for their spectacular airports, Mumbai will be known for this landmark Ambani house, which is bound to become iconic.” It is already one of the most controversial buildings in the world, for reasons that go beyond its unconventional architecture. Mukesh and Nita Ambani played hosts to an interesting mix of people at their lavish housewarming party put together at short notice on the 25th night, in order to pre-empt an anticipated paparazzi attack on Altamount Road on 28th November, where ‘Antilia’ , is located. Smart move. After months of speculation and even published reports last month of the ‘party that never happened’, guests at this super exclusive dinner, were requested not to reveal the date for the official unveiling of the most opulently appointed residence ever created. Rising dramatically, 300 metres above sea level , and built at a staggering cost of over a billion dollars, ‘Antilia’ ( the name is likely to be changed to ‘Anandam’) can be described as the Taj Mahal of the 21st century. Cantilevered and colossal, it easily dominates the skyline of the city. From the exquisite Krishna temple on the ground floor to Mukesh’s personal library on the top floor, it is a staggering feat! As Shekhar Kapur, one of the few Bollywood invitees ( the others being Preity Zinta, Aamir Khan, Karan Johar, Karishma Kapoor and Vidhu Vinod Chopra) commented from the roof ( no, there isn’t going to be a helipad here, the new plan is to transform it into a lush terrace garden), “It’s great to breathe fresh air at this height and leave Mumbai’s pollution down below.” A telling remark that can be read on many levels! From that impressive height and with those panoramic vistas, Mukesh and Nita are clearly the undisputed masters of all they survey – east, west, north, south.
But as the proud owners of this coveted property pointed out, this is their one and only residence, and unlike some other industrialists (nameless, of course!), the Ambanis insist they do not have villas tucked away in exotic destinations across the world. Point taken by Corporate India and critics! Representing the big biz segment Deepak Parekh, Kumarmangalam Birla, Anand Mahindra and Gautam Singhania were seen walking around on the mother of pearl floors and taking in the marble Mughal style canopies in the middle of lotus pools, as the dulcet strains of Rahul Sharma’s santoor wafted across the lawns. “Welcome to India…. welcome to our home,” said Nita to internationally renowned sculptor Anish Kapoor and Yves Carcelle of the luxury brand LVMH. The artists’ community was headed by Satish Gujral (accompanied by the entire Gujral clan), Subhodh Gupta, Atul and Anju Dodiya, Jitesh and Reena Kallat, Bose Krishnamachari ( Nita is keen to support emerging artists). Sipping her favourite red at the bar, Parmeshwar Godrej in trademark black, held court with the likes of Abu Jaani and Sandeep Khosla ( who had designed the traditional chikankaari outfits worn by all the Ambani ladies). Champagne and conversation continued to flow till dinner in the ballroom ( yes – that’s right, ballroom!)was announced by Nita. High speed elevators manned by polite, bandgala–clad attendants, took invitees to what has got to be the biggest, glitziest ballroom in India ( Versailles Palace is a poor cousin!) with a single, dazzling chandelier ( shades to cut the glare recommended!) that covers the entire vast ceiling .Gliding down the gigantic stairway leading to the expansive space, it was possible to believe for one mad moment that we were all at Cinderella’s Ball. Buffet tables ( shudh vegetarian fare) lining one of the unending walls, offered Gujarati specialities along with unusual desserts like ‘sitaphal halwa’. Dominating yet another lawn ( there are three main gardens, plus a bird park) outside the Ballroom, a gigantic Vishnu sculpture by Satish Gupta, looked on benignly at Sachin and Anjali Tendulkar, while Uddhav and Rashmi Thackeray chatted with Hema and Milind Deora.

It was good to see Kokilaben Ambani ( who has an entire floor to herself), arrive in time for dinner, perhaps after attending her other son Anil’s parallel party which was being hosted at the original Ambani residence ‘Seawind’ ( where she also has her own floor). Here’s one mother who has a great deal of commuting ahead of her – just like other Mumbaikars. What great levelers our pot-holed roads are!

Jayabrato's poem on politics....and more on media's glam-sham

This poem was sent to me by my Bondhu, Jayabrato Chatterji from Kolkata.....

We are children of our era;

our era is political.

All affairs, day and night,

yours, ours, theirs,are political affairs.



Like it or not,

your genes have a political past,

your skin a political cast,

your eyes a political aspect.



What you say has a resonance;

what you are silent about is telling.

Either way, it's political.



Even when you head for the hills

you're taking political steps

on political ground.



Even apolitical poems are political,

and above us shines the moon,

by now no longer lunar.



To be or not to be, that is the question.

Question? What question? Dear, here's a suggestion:

a political question.



You don't even have to be a human being

to gain political significance.

Crude oil will do,

or concentrated feed, or any raw material.



Or even a conference table whose shape

was disputed for months:

should we negotiate life and death

at a round table or a square one?



Meanwhile people were dying,

animals perishing,

houses burning,

and fields growing wild,

just as in times

most remote

and less political.
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This appeared today....


Writers Bloc…. Journos go where angels fear to tread!
Is journalism going glam –sham…?


Come on, guys, let’s cut the crap and say it like it is - we are up excreta creek! By ‘we’ I mean our tribe. Journos. Hacks. Commentators. Opinion makers. Thought leaders. For once, the shoe is on the other foot, and it is pinching like hell. We are not used to this. Us!! Self righteous and smug! Lofty creatures, who are forever sitting in judgement over the world and puffing out our chests for saving it! Suddenly, we find ourselves on the other side of the fence, at the receiving end of serious flak, and we don’t like it at all! In fact, we can’t handle the heat, and we are in a state of either defiance or denial. Guess what? It is time to square our shoulders and take it on the chin. Same as we expect others to, when we run our explosive exposes. Are we mature enough to do that? Are we ready to turn the searchlight inwards and ask ourselves the one question we have been dodging : What went wrong and why?
Something is clearly amiss, and the time to address that ‘something’ is now.

Let’s get a few things straight : Journalists are not demi-Gods, even if they like others to think of them like that. They are as human, as vulnerable, as greedy as the next person. Some more than others. Journalists have always brokered power. Always. Not just in India but all over the world.As power brokers, they have frequently played a key role in exposing corruption, mainly because they’ve had access to privileged information. Morally upright journos ( and they do exist!), have used this information towards a greater good and not as a means to either blackmail others or enrich themselves . The line is thin – most don’t realize they have crossed it till it is too late. Sure, power is an aphrodisiac ( thank you, Henry!), and some vain journos have taken the aphrodisiac part literally, to errr…. screw their detractors ! Others have limited themselves to soaring high on ego trips…. but strictly sans price tags. Either way, it has made a lot of heads swing… and swell. Being close to the centre of power in Delhi has been both, a curse and a boon to scribes who live there. Capital cities are like that ( think Watergate and Washington), and nobody remains immune to that heady proximity to politicos – not even self declared, hard bitten cynics. Delhi journos are a breed apart. Gone are the days of the slouchy jholawalas pounding the pavements, or prowling those corridors of power in search of a scoop. Delhi has spawned a generation of super glam Designer Journos – they dress sharp, talk sharp, are sharp. Well traveled, urbane and sexy as hell, these hotties are as much in the limelight as the people they grill in print and on television. They have their counterparts worldwide – the nature of today’s media business is such .We love our celeb journos… we are their devoted groupies. These people are legitimate stars .Why not? They write well, look great and party hard. Nobody grudges them their perks . Their lifestyles rival those of Bollywood stars – but then again, they have as vast a fan following, too. It’s all good.
Or…. is it?
Readers and viewers were in for a shock last week when the Fearless Radia tapes revealed more than was anticipated. The biggest jolt was not about the lobbying per se. It wasn’t about money either, since there is zero evidence of any financial gain. It was the unbelievable naivete of the main players. They sounded alarmingly amateurish as they discussed their modus operandi with Radia. That such seasoned journos would blab so much over open phone lines ( given how porous every aspect of personal security is these days), was the absolute shocker. Political lobbying is an entirely legit career and Ms. Radia was only doing her job. That job involves courting friendly journos and getting them on board to influence public servants and public opinion. It’s about working ones buddy network. Journos are used to being approached by touts whose job it is to plant stories on behalf of their clients. This is the tricky part : How a journo responds to such overtures is the acid test. There are those who show touts the door, and then there are those who let them in. Canny lobbyists are quick to zone in on the latter - like minded scribes - and get down to business. Big business. This is how the game is played, folks. The rules are known to all.

Who benefits?
That depends. Broadly speaking, everybody in the food chain. Manipulating policy , pushing agendas, blocking rivals, disseminating ‘news’, misinformation and even blatant lies – it’s all a part and parcel of the game. Non-alignment is only a theoretical concept. All opinion is necessarily subjective. Often prejudiced. Sometimes mischievous and frequently malicious.A good journalist knows when to step back from landmines. And frankly, every journalist knows the difference between compromise and the truth. Either you are on the make and take or not. Either you are one hundred percent honest or not. Either you display professional integrity at all times or you don’t. Unless the person is dumb. Seriously dumb. In which case, journalism is the last place to be in…. though , going by the latest revelations, it would appear some of journalism’s best and brightest may have been had.
Ab hamara kya hoga, Samba???

Who will bell the media cat??

The media world is on fire ! The wildest and weirdest rumours are doing the rounds, about the unlikeliest of people ( I want to believe them all - that's what rumours are for!). Let's call it 'Silence of the Lambs - Part 2' . Or better still, 'Sleeping with the Enemy's Enemies." But mediawallas have suddenly turned coy and principled about delving further into the dirty controversy ( potentially bigger than 'Watergate'), even though by now it's a khullam khulla' affair. Let's just call it an 'Open' book ( take a bow, Manu Joseph!). It's out there in the public domain - and nobody has denied the contents of the (planted?) transcripts so far. Amazingly enough, even the usually belligerent and\or shrill tv anchors are soft peddling the issues raised ( senior journos pimping for corporates and political parties ). But... worse, much worse than anything on those incriminating tapes ( how I love that Roberto Cavalli gown tid bit!) is the scarey scenario involving wholesale and entirely illegal\unconstitutional phone tapping of citizens. Despite the seriousness of this scandal,suddenly, scoop hungry mediawallas have discovered a conscience and claim to be hugely conscious and aware of 'ethical' issues while waiting to 'authenticate' those damaging tapes. No such reservations in the past while going ahead with other sensational exposes involving non-journos. Could it be a case of everybody being nanga in the hamam? Who will bell the cat? Who can afford to ?

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This appeared in the Bombay Times on monday.

Forward March…. one- two, one-two…

Here’s the good news first …. to my vast and eternal relief, after my FB column last week, I have been ‘unfriended’ by loads of people who weren’t my friends to begin with. This week I plan to lose a few more internet pests…. the ‘Forward-wallas’. I’m sure there are many of you reading this who feel the same way about those infernal ‘forwards’ that crowd the inbox and eat into precious time – forget about reading the stuff, deleting all that unsolicited rubbish takes hours as well. Besides…. It seriously affects my blood pressure! I definitely don’t want to read idiotic, mainly sexist jokes ( which jerk thinks them up?). I don’t want to acquire instant ‘knowledge’ through processed info, I have zero time for nostalgia and listening to a compilation of songs from the ‘sixties, I feel totally bugged when someone sends chain mail featuring kitschy images of Gods and Goddesses ( “ forward this to 15 friends and wait for the miracle”), my stress levels cannot handle alarmist faux medical stuff ( with grisly images of shredded heart muscles, pulped brains, mashed up limbs), warning me about all the stuff that could go horribly wrong…. if I didn’t pay close attention.Morbid and badly written poems ? I’ll live. ‘Then and Now’ homilies? Keep them. ‘This is a good one’ – generally isn’t! ‘Don’t miss this one!’ screams , “ Hit ‘Delete’ instantly!” And to think most of these useless emails are sent by people you know! Maybe, even like!! Admire!!!
I am all for setting up a ‘Ban those Forwards’ Club. I wonder about the compulsive ones who send out ten or more of these nuisance value mails per hour. Don’t they have a life? Worse, do they think you don’t? Do they also have nothing better to do but hit those keys? Would they bother to send out these horrible, intensely annoying communications if they had to pay for them? I doubt it. Bhejo, bhejo… because it’s free, boss! In my experience, men are guiltier than women in this department. Perhaps it is their way of bonding\ flirting… but there are far many more men out there, spending valuable time, effort and energy forwarding and re-, re-, re- forwarding junk. The same chaps recycle gyaan from all sorts of obscure sources and bombard the unwary. Male columnists more than their female counterparts, carpet bomb the unsuspecting with their pearls of wisdom week after tiresome week. There is just no escaping the onslaught. Come X’Mas and remote acquaintances from across the globe begin the annual torture – sending a month-by-month newsletter informing mainly indifferent, unfortunate recipients about Cathy’s tooth extraction and Uncle Eddy’s prostrate problem. Do we want to know? Do we care a rat’s err… bum? The time for making New Year resolutions is upon us. Come on everybody… let’s be nice to one another. Let’s stop this nasty anti-social activity in the coming year. But I am making one exception : Rajni jokes. Keep them rolling.Why? Don’t you know? We are, because Rajni is. Mind it.
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It’s all about timing. I’m talking about ‘Guzaarish’. I’m sure it’s a terrific film – deep, dark and allegorical. But give us a break, Bhansali. Had it been pitched as a ‘X’Mas release ( Hrithik as Jesus, Aishwarya as Mary Magdalene ), at least the believers ( in and out of Goa) would have watched it, curiosity ke vaastey. Euthanasia? Most people can’t pronounce the word, much less understand what it means. Tough subject to pitch to an audience still high on ‘Golmal -3’. Brave man, our Bhansali. But he needs that magic wand more than his hero for a box office miracle to happen.

The Nizam and I....

Remember that ancient movie starring Yul Brynner called 'The King and I..."
Well... here I am with Mukkaram Jah, the elusive Nizam of Hyderabad. It is my very own 'royal' moment. He has a majestic presence, and it required a little strategic positioning to get this shot to happen. We were at the spectacular opening of the Taj Falaknuma Palace Hotel ( richly and lovingly restored by Princess Esra Birgin of Turkey, ex-wife of the Nizam saheb ). It has taken the Taj Group ten long years to reopen this magnificent palace that was lying abandoned and neglected since 1911. With its countless Venetian chandeliers and priceless antiques, is it any wonder that its themed , opulent, and wildly extravagant suites go for 5 lakhs a night, making this one of the priciest palace hotels in the world?
'Falaknuma' means 'Mirror of the Sky ."
Some sky! Some palace!

Interesting coverage..... yes?

Since some of you have been asking.... here it is. I have received the sweetest comments on this particular story. Would welcome yours...

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Couldn't make it to Arnab's show tonight. Nor to Rahul's ( Headlines Today). The topic on both was the same - it's the big story about Raakhi Sawant's show timing getting changed to a later slot. If you ask me, by doing that, the show will attract more eyeballs, not less. But hopefully kids won't be awake to watch this rubbish. So... it's all good.

I had to go back and sit through 'The Social Network' again - this time to feast on Justin Timberlake's performance. He reminded me so much of Ness Wadia... I had to pinch myself several times and say, " Aw.... come on... Ness is hotter.... better.... but maybe not cleverer." What a terrific acting debut! What inspired casting! Napster Justin was almost as good as Jesse ( the role is better scripted and nuanced, too). When will we make movies that are even half as good? When will this be butchered in a remake? And who'll play the desi Mark Zuckerberg? Let's get a poll going.... my money is on Imran Khan. Do send in your nominations.

P.S. Whosoever is responsible for that truly terrible commercial on Kerala ( " God's Own Country.... Devil's Own People" is how this gorgeous state has been projected), should be sacked instantly. More 'Out of Africa' than Kerala. Misleading and misconceived. Simbly awful, unggle!

Hello! Awards...

Sometimes.... just sometimes.... we get to do some fun , non-stressful 'jury' duty, that actually turns into a mini-celebration 0f talent, beauty, style. As it happened during this particular meeting.

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It's been a rough ride for our P.M. who seems to have taken a permanent 'maun vrath'. The Silent Sardar is under heavy duty fire from the Opposition. But is he opening his mouth to clear his 'good name' ( in India, we all have 'good names' - ha ha ). All this is just such a total sham and charade.... as if those BJP guys are any different. Every desi neta is cut from the same cloth. So.... let's drop the pretence and get on with the business of ruining ... oops.... running the country!
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Meanwhile , all kinds of keedas are crawling out of the OPEN can. Media keedas, at that. God knows what lies behind this expose - but since we live in a dog doesn't eat dog, and bitch doesn't eat bitch duniya, I'm guessing the lid of this particular can will be firmly shut and soldered by tomorrow. 2G.... HELLOJI!!! There are several more 'G's'.... kyon, P.M.ji??? You know who they are... we also know who they are..... but where is the blessed proof? Raja ki aa gayee baraat....