Who has the most kissable mouth in Bollywood?

This stunning vision is of the magic Blue Eye, just off the salubrious coast of Corfu ( where my great hero Napoleon was born). Please don't ask me to explain it. All I know is that I nearly fell out of the small motor boat we were in, sailing around the beautiful islands, when our captain decided to take a small detour to show us this magnificent sight inside a grotto. Even he couldn't quite explain the phenomenon.... and does it really matter? Just feast your eyes on Nature's miracle.... life is beautiful, na??

*******************8

This column appeared in Hi! Blitz....

Zara zara Kiss me, Kiss me, Kiss me....

This column has been inspired by a man who has been boasting, somewhat stupidly, that he is the person responsible for "corrupting Indian culture"... or something equally idiotic.Give us a break, Emraan Hashmi. Just because you are on a roll right now, and feeling chuffed about your recent successes, you don’t have to give yourself itna saara importance either! Get over it! Emraan is a talented actor. No debate there. It’s not his fault he got stuck with that silly tag ‘Serial Kisser’. Earlier, he used to be most defensive about all that kissing-vissing, and insist he was a loving husband who indulged in some heavy duty smooching on screen only because he had a job to do. Someone’s got to do it, right? Right! Nobody took the bloke seriously at the time, even though his movies did better than the movies of star sons, who waltzed into the industry thanks to their papas and got paid the top buck even though they failed to deliver the goods.... much less make a living out of kissing. That’s how Bollywood works. So there was poor Emraan, suffering through kiss after kiss after kiss and making us feel rather sorry for putting him through such an ordeal. All this torture for the sake of his art , naturally. Today our man is singing a different tune. Theek hai. Success make people learn new ragas overnight. And Hashmi has definitely worked hard for his success. After ‘Shanghai’, film makers across the spectrum are taking another dekho at the guy. Never mind that ‘Shanghai’ didn’t break box office records, its critical acclaim was enough.

Emran could well be the male version of Vidya Balan. After ‘Dirty Picture’, Indian fans discovered Balan’s boobs – and she discovered her sexuality. Quite like Emraan. Vidya too couldn’t stop discussing her inner raunchy girl, having wisely decided to brazen it out, once everything was on public view. Shunning the usual defensive strategy heroines trot out ( “It was done so tastefully.... the scene required exposure..the approach was artistic.”), Vidya happily swung her hips , rolled her tongue, bit her mouth, winked wickedly and said saucily that the movie had freed her from her own inhibitions. Boy! Don’t we know it! And aren’t we impressed! Vidya’s bold, upfront acknowledgement took care of any criticism that might have come her way. She silenced critics and took the wind out of their sails by second guessing their barbs. Smart girl, that Vidya. Perhaps, taking a leaf out of her book, Emraan has also changed tracks. He is secure enough to make fun of his ‘serial kisser’ reputation, now that he has unequivocally established his credentials as an actor of note.

But what is it about Indian viewers and kissing? Why do we make such a big deal out of a lip-to-lip? And more importantly, why are we so bloody bad at it – on screen, off screen? Can nobody get it right? From the current brunch, I thought those two young ones – Arjun Kapoor and Parineeti Chopra in Íshaqzaade’ managed better than the veterans – Hashmi included. Their kisses were passionate, uninhibited and yes – they had their mouths open! The last time Bollywood saw tongues in action was when Aishwarya Rai ( post-shaadi), and Hritik Roshan took each other’s and the nation’s breaths away in Dhoom -2. My, my, said shocked uncles and aunties, is that any way for desis to kiss???? Implying that the only kiss permissible was a chaste one on the forehead or cheek. And if lips had to meet, then it was better they remained clamped and pursed. Teeth on teeth, but no tongue on tongue. Got it?

After that red hot chumma, there has been no full on kiss worth noting on screen. It’s almost embarrassing to watch the clumsy attempts of top stars as they resort to the ancient trick of turning the back of the head to the camera, and indulging in a coy ‘pretend kiss’. Oh come on, people. Grow up. We can handle it. We can handle a lot – try us! Arunodaya’s amazing and extended kiss in the backseat of an auto-rickshaw while holding a gun to the driver’s head, remains a powerful memory, since the picturisation of such a sequence must have been a technical feat! Not only was the kiss most imaginatively shot, but it was charged with raw erotic power. I was hoping it would start a trend, with directors opting for more such breakthrough situations for kisses that really rock! What is bewildering to me is that considering how liberally we borrow and steal from foreign movies, why have we not maroed their kisses? Or at least, taken a few tips? It’s all about camera angles.... forget chemistry and similar hogwash. The success of a movie kiss depends on the technical expertise of all those involved. For starters, Bollywood’s kissing aspirants should take a crash course in smooching by watching Hollywood classics like ‘Gone with the Wind’ and ‘Çasablanca’’. The men should concentrate on the tilt of Clark Gable’s chin, and the women on Ingrid Bergman’s inviting mouth. Uske baad, we can go for the real thing. And no, Emraan Hashmi is excused. He has retired from kissing and gone back to the Pavilion. Bring on the boys... new ones. And lots of pretty girls. Starting with Nargis Faqri, who has the most kissable mouth in Bollywood. Right, Ranbir??

Why Hema Malini remains my Dream Girl...

This is the 'Punishment Column' in the charming port of Bari. Legend has it that naughty people were tied to the stone column and flogged, while the people of this small Italian town, hissed and spat to show their contempt.

Well, when I photographed it with a blazing noon day sun beating down on me, I thought of several desi politicians I wanted to see tied to that column! And tonight, after participating in Arnab's Television Campaign on Times Now, drawing attention to Uma Poddar, a sadistic matron in Shanti Niketan, who forced a 10- year-old girl to drink her own urine as a punishment for wetting her bed, I wanted to flog this awful woman myself.

Imagine if we had a Punishment Column in every city in India.... there would probably be a long, long line in front of each one!

****************

This appeared in Bombay Times today....

I ran into Hema the morning after the night of Esha’s Bidaai. My spontaneous reaction was to hug Hema. Now, as anybody who has ever known Hema Malini will immediately tell you, Hema does not belong to the ‘huggy-kissy ’lot in Bollywood. You don’t hug or kiss Hema. You bow! Hema is the original, aloof, imperious Queen. But I just had to hug her – and did. For one, I was feeling really sheepish and guilty about not having attended her precious baby’s wedding, nor any of the other lavish functions. The crowded airport that morning was not the place to go into apologies and explanations. I just wanted to convey my congratulations warmly, and tell Hema I love her – which I do. She looked miffed and said so. Which is also why I like her. Hema doesn’t bother to camouflage her feelings or mince her words. I managed to mumble a clumsy apology and hastily changed the subject, telling her I understood completely what her emotions must have been... and wasn’t she relieved it had gone off so splendidly? Hema ‘s big brown eyes clouded over, she took a deep breath, raised her chin defiantly, held back the tears, regained her composure quickly and said softly, “Not relieved. Sad. I felt sad watching Esha leave...”It was a beautiful mom-to-mom moment. We both left it at that.

I was travelling when Esha got married in the ISKCON temple at Juhu. I am sure I missed a really special ceremony. Once I got back, I caught up with all the press coverage and noted what a Herculean task Hema had undertaken, almost single-handedly. It was her show – and it showed! I don’t know how involved Daddy Dharmendra was, nor does it matter. Hema has always been an extraordinarily capable and hard working woman, running her life and career on her own, handling the affairs of her daughters, getting into politics and taking her new,neta role seriously, choreographing and dancing in ballets across the world, and most importantly, minding her own business. Hema’s unconventional and bold decision all those many years ago to make her life with the much-married Dharmendra came with a hefty price tag. Hema paid it without ever discussing the downside. Which is all the more reason why it seemed a bit of a shame that Dharmendra’s sons and their families chose to stay away from their half-sister’s big day. Surely, one puts differences aside at a joyous time such as a family wedding? I guess the men had their reasons. Who knows what the real complications and implications are in such domestic arrangements? Despite the obvious snub, Hema conducted herself with admirable dignity, and with her head held high. That’s our Hema. Proud and dignified at all times.

I watched her stride briskly into the Departure lounge. No fuss. No hangers-on. A woman of today. It was back to work, less than twelve hours after getting her beloved daughter married. Here’s another hug, just for that, Hema!

Why Maharashtra is such a bloody mess!

More images!The focus is on Khaana Peena today. I am waiting for Federer to finish off the damn match - don't really care who wins. Both men are like machines. I prefer emotion and drama on Centre Court - a few tantrums, orgasmic grunts and groans. Not two robots playing technically superb but essentially passionless tennis.

Haan... photoo ke baarey.... Cést moi in the top pic shot by one of the daughters in Mykonos, enjoying a mid-morning Illy ( one of my favourite brands of commercial coffee). The bar tender pushing a chilled and sharp Cosmo towards me deserves an award - it was an outstanding Cosmo, which earned her a generous tip. That's Luigi serving truffle oil pasta at one of the most historic restaurants in Florence - Ristorante La Grotta Guelfa - a hot favourite with the local ladies who lunch. The classic aubergine carpaccio is a best-seller here, even though it isn't looking terribly appetising in my pic. But take a look at the humble sandwich we had to satisfy ourselves with in Venice! Even without an ACP Dhoble prowling around, everything pretty much shuts by 11 p.m. including the world famous tourist trap, Harry's Bar.

Gimme reactions, Blogdosts.... I really cherish them!

******************

This appeared in Sunday Times today....

Fire-fighting took on an entirely new meaning when Mumbai’s Mantralaya went up in flames recently. Timing ki baat hai, boss. There was a fire. A pretty major one. But nobody to fight it! Howcome? Well, what is the point of a well-planned fire if it’s going to be efficiently put out? Of course, that nasty word ‘árson’ was scrupulously avoided by babudom the morning after the night before. ‘Accident’sounded so much better.White washing of the iconic building began hours later.Literal and metaphorical damage control was set into motion phataphat! I live pretty close to the Mantralaya and drive past it nearly every day. Looking at it from the outside, nobody can guess that a massive and mysterious fire recently destroyed such a large portion of the building, or that behind the hastily painted exterior there is a charred shell where floors ( and more importantly, incriminating files) once existed. So accurately executed was the short circuit,even the flames knew exactly what to look for and destroy. What clever flames!

Then came a man with an impressive Chambal Valley style handlebar moustache.Just looking at him should have scared the daylights out of a few ministers. Maybe that’s exactly what happened. CBI Joint Director,RishiRaj Singh, was abruptly shunted out after the charge sheet in the Adarsh Society scandal was filed. Evidently, the devastating fire had not completed its job. There was unfinished business that Rishi Raj Singh had unwisely made his own. One former C.M. ( Ashok Chavan) had been boldly named by him. But two more NCP ministers were about to be exposed.... and that wasn’t fun. Marching orders were promptly issued to the man who had spent the past four years with the Anti-Corruption Wing handling some really hot cases involving mighty names. He wasn’t due for a transfer till May 2013.

While all this was going on, what were the people of the State of Maharashtra doing?Wringing their hands in frustration and grumbling, but nothing more than that. Fat lot of good that does. It’s not just about the disgraceful history of one building, ‘Adarsh’’( which has aptly been labelled The Tower of Corruption).It is about the brazenness which has come to define the running of this once great State. Look at the shambles it is in... Chief Ministers come and go with the frequency of recycled stale samosas, musical chairs are played with top bureaucrats - the ones who are out of favour with current political bosses, go to jail, the others waltz around freely offering pathetic alibis, our cops are ridiculed and mocked for chasing teenagers, the cops armed with hockey sticks, while the really big fish ( terrorists included) roam around the city freely picking their next targets to bomb. Civic officials talk about converting Mumbai into Tokyo, a comment that makes Mumbaikars gag ( when did Tokyo displace Shanghai?).... all this nonsensical talk while India’s premier city rots. Literally. Each year we act like heavy rains are a huge surprise - a rare , freaky weather phenomenon, when for centuries we have suffered monsoon devastation. Confronted by these routine hazards, our successive Chief Ministers either grin fatuously (Vilasrao Deshmukh), or scowl menacingly ( Prithviraj Chavan). Solutions? You must be kidding. Responsibility? Don’t joke.

Meanwhile our precious Prime Minister gives himself a generous character certificate and declares there has been ‘no explosion in corruption’ under his watch. So, what is Manmohan Singh waiting for? A corruption holocaust that wipes us out? But he adds self-righteously, “I have maintained a high standard of integrity in my conduct.” Matlab? It’s okay to look the other way when party colleagues are looting the nation, so long as his own hands are clean? Come on, Mr. Singh. Ever heard of collateral damage? If this is the message filtering down from the very top, it is inevitable that we shall have to live with more fires breaking out in various government departments over the next few months. It is the season for short circuits. Our over worked, under paid firemen are going to be really, really busy as they rush from one inferno to the next. Of course, there will be poor water pressure when they get to the scene of the crime ... sorry... accident. By then, most of the evidence... sorry... files, would have been reduced to ashes. And Mr. Handle Bar Moustache won’t be around to do his job, either. That will leave us. I know what we, as citizens, must do... join the fire brigade.Train as firefighters. Short circuit the system. Water hose the guilty. And get Ram Gopal Verma to make ‘Mumbaikar ki Aag’ and keep our fingers crossed the film is a bigger hit than his earlier turkey.

Cheap and Cheerful images....

It must be pretty obvious from these pics that I like dogs, kids, icecreams and glass.

The pic of the old sea dog was taken at Mykonos - a Greek island we love and have wonderful memories of... especially Psarou Beach ( more pics coming up!). The Kissing Poms happened in the port of Bari...

What you probably imagine are delicious cup cakes and delectable bon bons, ready to gobble up, are made out of Murano glass! This pic was shot in Venice... and my daughter Arundhati surprised me by handing over a pretty box inside which nestled a really happy Murano glass necklace that I shall always cherish - almost too pretty to wear!

The ice cream cones are real... I was enchanted by the very artistic display in a super chic Cafe in Bari. We also enjoyed a sensational Cappuccino here at the Gran Caffe, where the waiters were real cuties. Check out the customer with his pooch waiting for his cuppa!

And the lovely little girl was accompanying her mom and baby sister ( all of twenty days) when she posed for me in a leafy street in Athens, near the famous Plaka. As you can sense, I am still in holiday mode.

Off to Lisbon soon. But this time to address an international TiE Retreat.

Maximum.... or Minimum??? You decide....

Two gorgeous Venetian masks shot by my daughter Arundhati in Venice. We spent a lot of time admiring Murano glass in the windows of stylish boutiques in and around Saint Marco Square. Our biggest regret was that we didn't get to sip an over-priced Bellini at Harry's Bar. But we did listen to enchanting classical music in the Square, played by beautifully dressed musicians at the historic Floriana Cafe.

*****************

This appeared in Bombay Times on Monday.........

Mine is bigger than yours....

What happens to a movie when the intentions are positive, but the product fails to deliver the promised goods?? The hall at the friendly neighbourhood multiplex was half full when I watched ‘Maximum’, first day, second show. Not a bad sign, given the time of the year when most of Mumbai is away on chhutti.Clearly, expectations were high. This is the era of gritty, edgy, violent movies which are finding their own audiences in our discerning metros.With a title like that ( piggy-backing brazenly on Suketu Mehta’s definitive book on Mumbai), I for one, was salivating in anticipation. The concept of a Cop Vs. Cop movie set against the backdrop of the city’s notorious ‘encounters’ with low life, held a great deal of potential. What one saw was just another cop film minus a core. Sonu Sood’s almost alarming impersonation of Amitabh Bachchan ( without Bachchan’s sense of irony) was like applauding a competent mimic at a mimicry contest. That’s a pity, because the guy has it in him to strike out on his own and create an identity for himself. But at least he was provided with a storyline, a family and some motivation. Naseeruddin Shah’s boredom came through so strongly, it seemed deliberate, like he was in fact mocking the script... perhaps he was doing just that. What was far more annoying was the disjointed effort at projecting a particularly sordid chapter in the world of Mumbai cops, which had rocked the city with its senseless killings and games of one upmanship that had nothing to do with maintaining law and order. Neha Dhupia playing the cop’s wife wearing fake eyelashes at dawn was really emblematic of where and why the movie collapsed. It’s all in the details, bro. And when those details go so hopelessly wrong, credibility and audience interest both vanish instantly.

Perhaps we are at a stage when the entire Mumbai cops genre has been done to death.... murdered in cold blood by film makers who don’t really ‘get it’. Just like Madhur Bhandarkar didn’t really ‘get’ ‘Fashion’ because it was an entirely alien world to him. If this movie was about testosterone driven male rivalry in íts extreme form, it would still have fallen flat whether or not the protagonists wore a ‘vardhi’. The Naseer character was introduced so late, and so shoddily, it was impossible to get under his skin and figure out why his insides were as corroded with jealousy for the younger cop. Corroded enough for that entirely gratuitous, blood splattered climax to take place on - yes – a railway platform! Just like those other predictable standards that have become mandatory in ‘Mumbai Movies’- Ganpati visarjan and Gokulashtami.And please, can we avoid cop clichés – those Ray Ban aviators, the crotch-tight faded blue jeans and that gun tucked into the waistband pointing South! I mean, phallic references do have their place in cinema, but THIS obvious? Nuts!

*******************

The next cop film should really be about ACP Dhoble. I had offered to take him out on a date over Twitter. Just to show him what Mumbai’s less obnoxious night life is all about. Not every woman sipping a drink is a prostitute, and all those men posturing around may just be insecure dudes who have never done drugs in their lives. Dhoble has his fan club.... he could be the man of the moment for some canny movie maker – an unlikely hero armed with a hockey stick – take that for a ‘mine is bigger than yours’ metaphor!

Viva Italia! Viva Florence!

These are just a few of the countless images of Florence. Starting with the 17th century Palazzo Tolomei in the heart of the city, where we stayed. As you can tell, it's historic and beautiful. A perfect haven, presided over by Signora Daniela Agnelli ( that's her in black), who owns this magnificent property. I loved all the little touches - the towel basket in our gigantic room, the frescoes above our bed.... the Venetian glasses on the table at Reception. And the fact that the great artist Raphael once lived here....

There are more, many more lovely images.... of several other destinations like Corfu ( stunning!) and Dubronvik (breathtaking). Wanna see???

I'm off to Ahemedabad tomorrow to receive an, ahem , award. The other awardees are women I have the deepest admiration for - Mrinalini Sarabhai, Jaya Jaitley, Indira Parikh.

I hope I can make the flight in the morning.... if Italy wins tonight, and Balotelli scores, chances are I'll be up till dawn.

****************

This appeared in Asian Age yesterday....

Rajesh Khanna ki ‘Ámar’ Kahaani...

Rajesh Khanna’s life reads like a Greek tragedy.Some would say it was an act of abject cruelty on the part of ace director Balki to talk Rajesh Khanna into facing the cameras again after a break of a few decades only to make a mockery out of an icon who once ruled Bollywood. The Havell Fans’commercial underlined the frailty of superstardom and reminded audiences of their own fickleness. Who knows and who cares about ex-Superstars? It is all about the here and now in showbiz... and increasingly, in most other spheres of life ,too. I squirmed through the commercial that featured a man who, while sitting pretty on the pinnacle of fame, had graced the cover of Stardust’s virgin issue over forty years ago. It was an audacious decision by Nari Hira to launch his baby (which went on to become the numero uno fanzine in India), with an unflattering close-up of a pimple- faced actor the entire country had fallen in love with. Why did Nari Hira do it? Simple. It was a coup. The bold headline cheekily asked , “Ïs Rajesh Khanna Secretely Married?” Remember, this was at the height of the Rajesh Khanna madness, and there were besotted female fans out there ready to slash their wrists for the crinkly-eyed star. The scoop had been given to the magazine on a platter by seasoned actress Anju Mahendru’s mother, perhaps in the hope that such a sensational revelation would finally push Khanna into popping the question and making an honourable woman out of her daughter.Anju had been Khanna’s girl-friend for the longest time after her international link-up with cricket legend Gary Sobers. But guess what? Khanna promptly did the dirty on his lady love - he shocked the nation by dumping Anju overnight to marry an alarmingly young Dimple Kapadia in 1973, thereby making Dimpy Bollywood’s first real-life child bride. Balki’s intentions may have been perfectly noble, and for Khanna,the fee must have been impressive. But for two generations of movie fans growing up oblivious to the existence of ‘The Phenomenon’ ( a term coined by Stardust), this ad came as an anti-climax. Reactions ranged from, “ Who is this guy? Oh.... is he the same person who is Akshay Kumar’s father-in-law?” To, “ Was he really all that famous?” Yup. Same guy . And yes, he was hugely famous.

Pathetic as it sounds , this is the fate of exceedingly famous individuals who lose touch with reality. It may seem unfair at this delicate stage to bring in a comparison, but look at the ailing and frail Dilip Kumar and the dignity with which he continues to conduct his life.Dilip Kumar’s two main rivals( Dev Anand and Raj Kapoor) are both dead and gone after securing a permanent place for themselves in the movie pantheon. Rajesh Khanna came much later. Long after this triumvirates’ glory days had ended. And yet, today’s movie goer is more likely to know about the life and times of all three of them, but maybe totally blank about Rajesh Khanna’s. There’s an important lesson in this. Some of Rajesh Khanna’s contemporaries ( Dharmendra, Vinod Khanna) are also struggling with health issues. Amitabh Bachchan who arrived on the scene a few years after ‘’The Phenomenon’’ and smoothly usurped his throne, has battled life threatening medical conditions for years but continues to remain at the top of the pile. Fans have not forgotten any of these accomplished actors. But with Rajesh Khanna, the story is more complicated. Unwilling to come to terms with fading popularity, Khanna chose isolation. After retreating into his den, he stayed there, possibly licking his wounds and wondering what happened to his charmed existence. Nobody dared tell him that his old life was long over. That others had captured the hearts of fans. Bollywood had moved on . Khanna was left stuck in a time warp, a sad and bitter man, living inside a bottle, wallowing in self-pity, still clinging on to delusions of grandeur. But ask the women of my vintage and they’ll tell you a different story. For us, Rajesh Khanna is by far the biggest superstar India has ever seen. Nobody has ever come anywhere close to him – not any of the Khans, not the Kapoors, not even the Big B. Whether or not he had done that rather insensitive Havell Fans ad, for us he stays frozen forever as the ‘Ámar Prem’ lover boy, tilting his head, smiling rakishly and breaking our hearts with that adorable little boy look.

Sigh! And sigh again. Rajesh Khanna’s decline and descent, depressing as it is, serves us well. All of us. Fame and fortune are fickle lovers, ready to be courted by the next suitor – someone younger, richer, more accomplished.Nobody is spared. Not Presidents, Prime Ministers, Kings and Queens. Look around you....check out the latest Louis Vuitton ad that features Muhammed Ali. It will make you weep. The same way the Havell Fans commercial made me weep. As much for Rajesh Khanna as myself. Toh bhi, Kaka can certainly count me in as a ‘Fan Forever’.

Any 'Satya'' in this....??

The truth about Satyamev Jayate’s donationsT

SUCHETA DALAL June 26, 2012 02:53 PM |

The donation numbers look strange, the actual terms and conditions are not so clear and the show is flagging

On 20th June, Moneylife wrote how Satyamev Jayate (SMJ), the do-gooding show that was to redefine prime time and claimed to reach a massive 40 crore Indians (over just five episodes) had collected just Rs1.7 crore for seven NGOs so far. Of this Rs85.25 lakh has come from Reliance Foundation (numbers provided by them), which had offered to match the donations received from others.

SMJ’s website (www.satyamevjayate.in) had 13 NGOs on the list, of which seven received the funds until then: Unique Home for Girls, Snehalaya, Amarjyoti School, Family of Disabled, Himmat, Childline and Azad Foundation.

While I wrote to Reliance Foundation, I also contacted SMJ’s official PR agency (Hanmer MS&L) listed on its website and asked for the donation numbers. Late that night, after our report was published, a Hanmer executive wrote to say that she didn’t have the numbers, but the Rs85.25 lakh that Reliance Foundation had paid reflected only the first five days of donation and that Snehalaya had in fact received Rs70 lakh. She promised to get me the exact numbers by 21st June afternoon.

This was after seven episodes had already been aired. We sent a reminder on 23rd June and also pointed out a mistake in the “terms & conditions”, which said that the exact donations received would be announced on Asar, a programmed aired on Aaj Tak channel every Friday night. In fact Asar is aired on ABP News, formerly Star News. This gross mistake was corrected on 25th June along with certain other changes.

Finally on 25th June (seven weeks after the show went on air), five days after our report, the Hanmer PR person wrote to say SMJ has received Rs1.9 crore through Axis Bank and another Rs25 to Rs30 lakh through text messages (so much for precision and disclosures), which means “Rs3 crore plus” of donations after adding “Rs85 lakh donated by Reliance”. She writes, “Reliance only doubles the amount collected in the first week (after telecast date). From a legal perspective, there needs to be a cut off date for Reliance to double the amount”.

But hasn’t Aamir Khan been looking us in the eye (through our TV screens) and telling us that Reliance Foundation will match the donations received? Then why is its contribution less than half the total received? As always, Reliance Foundation seems to have bargained a phenomenal deal—a big dollop of publicity for Nita Ambani’s plans to change the world, being economic with the truth (in terms of what it would match) and coughing up just Rs85 lakh over six weeks, when advertisers have been paying Rs8-Rs10 lakh for a 10 second spot! Bharti Airtel, the presenting sponsor, is understood to have paid Rs17-Rs20 crore while associate sponsors (Skoda, Coca Cola, Axis Bank, etc.) have paid Rs6-Rs7 crore each for far less visibility than Reliance. Why don’t the terms and conditions mention that Reliance Foundation only matches donations of the first week?

Naturally, we found this breezy obfuscation unacceptable and demanded a break up. By now, Star India officials had corrected the terms and conditions and updated the website. They have finally updated the website to say that the show had yielded—630,298,439 connections, 8,839,494 responses, 2,778,984 community members and Rs30,160,678 in donations. There was still no clarity about how these figures were arrived at and who got how much. On asking for a detailed break-up, we received an email from them.

The numbers are interesting (see table). Data for the first two episodes indicates that nearly half the donations were received in the second week after the telecast, despite the flutter on social media caused by the programme’s first episode. Secondly, Snehalaya, the NGO featured in the first programme garnered Rs1.3 crore or nearly half the total donations generated by the first six shows. Yet, barely 2.2% were through sms. Digital marketing experts may explain why sms-happy Indians were so reluctant to donate through texts, but apparently donated through more cumbersome online contributions to Axis Bank, that too a week after the episode. It will be interesting to see how many of the Axis Bank donations came from overseas transfers.

Childline and Himmat managed to attract the next highest number of donations (around Rs40 lakh each) while The Humanity Trust, West Bengal which has been subject of nasty innuendo because it was confused with another trust of the same name (finally corrected and explained by SMJ’s website only on 25th June) had the third highest collection of Rs27 lakh. But given the fact that it is this show that probably had the maximum impact on public consciousness, the amount collected was strangely too small.

What is however evident from the numbers, is that SMJ is fast losing steam. Only two episodes have really made waves—the first on female foeticide, mainly because it startled people and the second on medical malpractices, because it affects us all. Also, the massive clout of the pharmaceutical and medical equipment manufacturers ensures that we get to know so little of the sleazy underbelly healthcare sector. In fact, media reports on medical malpractice rarely go beyond doctor’s negligence.

The political class, which was wary after the first episode, has now begun to ignore the show. SMJ still has the potential to pack a punch for social transformation, but it needs some changes. For one, many viewers say that 90 minutes is far too long on a Sunday morning and there is no follow up action from the producers. They and Aamir Khan Productions obviously expected to just sit back and rake in the moolah and the glory. If activism could be reduced to show business, India would not need drastic transformation 65 years after independence.

************

Was back in Amdavad after a couple of years. Lots of changes. But a few wonderful constants - like the peacocks. And the Neem trees. Hundreds of both! Just there. Part of the city- scape.

One lovely new discovery - talented designer Anuradha Vakil's jewel of an atelier. Here's one hugely gifted fashion designer who lives her art. Anuradha's 'space' is as stunning as her exquisitely woven and embellished sarees.... garments. But it is really Anuradha the Collector, I find so enchanting. Her hoard of tiny glass bottles, tea pots, kettles, other quirky objets, tell their own story of a life lived in the appreciation of all things bright and beautiful. And yes, right outside the large window of the room in which we were sipping tea, was a gigantic Neem tree with not one but four peacocks perched on it. Pure magic!

The Award Ceremony ( "Women of Excellence'') was dignified and appropriate. For me, it was an honour to share the dais with three extraordinary women - Amma ( the legendary Mrinalini Sarabhai), Dr.Indira Parikh ( educationist par excellence. IIM and more), and the fiery politico Jaya Jaitley, who recalled our "Gurjari'' days when we both ran around looking for stringy, backless cholis.... what fabulous memories. I guess we have all come a long,long way.... niccceeee.