Ready to scream, yell and throttle for our Boys in Blue tomorrow?? I hope for their sakes they win, otherwise jootey padengey! Sounds horrible? It is meant to! Cricket does crazy things to people. I'm no fanatic, but I will certainly be shouting, "Jhenda Oooncha Rahey Hamara'' tomorrow, along with a billion plus Indians! ********************* This appeared in Bombay Times yesterday... Goodbye Violet Eyes…. Elizabeth Taylor had slept with seven men in her life - which works out to one in every decade ( she died a year short of completing her eighth). Do the math for yourself… she famously said she only slept with men she married. She had been married to seven lucky men – one of whom she married twice. She also said , “ I couldn’t just have a romance - it had to be marriage.” In another context she joked her mother had told her she had kept her eyes shut for eight days after her birth. The first thing Liz saw when she opened them was an engagement ring – “ After that, I was hooked!” She was branded a ‘home wrecker’ for stealing Eddie Fisher away from the sweet and boring Debbie Reynolds. Two years after Fisher, she met Richard Burton on the sets of ‘Cleopatra’ and both were instantly smitten! He’s the irresistible Welsh bloke she married twice over – but even those two marriages were doomed. Ironic really, that a woman who was so hooked on marriage, could not hang on to a single husband. But she remained the eternal romantic till the end saying, “ You don’t get over men like the flu…!” According to Hollywood gossip, she was all set to tie the knot for the ninth time last year – but perhaps her failing health got in the way. What a life! To call someone as grand as her a mere ‘legend’ is to do her an injustice. Everyone is a legend these days. Liz Taylor was spectacular on all possible levels. She retained her title of the ‘World’s Most Beautiful Woman’ even on her deathbed, and millions of fans world wide must have wept when they heard the sad news last week. I thought she was magnificent in ‘Cat on a Hot Tin Roof’ ( for which she won an Oscar), and there can be no other movie Cleopatra ever again – such was her iconic presence in a film that deserves a second coming. In her later years, it wasn’t her violet eyes alone ( nobody else in the world had them) that carried forward the mystique. It was , in fact, her tremendous generosity and loyalty that got her the adulation. She stuck by her ‘best friend’ Michael Jackson, when most so-called friends had abandoned him during his sex abuse trial. She gave of herself to causes she believed in and was an early advocate and ambassador for international AIDS initiatives – a cause she began to back after her other good friend, Rock Hudson died of the disease. I doubt we shall see a similar star in our life time. She was as courageous as she was gorgeous. She held her own , and fought a brave war against a host of medical conditions for several years. Hollywood will no doubt honour her memory appropriately. I hope some film body in India puts a well- researched tribute together soon, so that this generation of film goers will get the chance to understand and appreciate the blinding luminosity of a glowing mega star - Elizabeth Taylor. RIP. ************** On a personal note, thanks to our host Vijay Mallya, my husband and I were fortunate enough to spend a few nights on the same bed Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor had shared on their splendid yacht, the matchless ‘Kalizma’, which Vijay now owns! As you can imagine, it was an overwhelming experience!!
Tuesday, 29 March 2011
Tuesday, 22 March 2011
I was so moved when I read this piece... as I am sure you will be, too. I am off to Singapore... will miss this space. See you here on monday. As I key this in, my nails are gone because Sachin is gone! And I am feeling too tense to watch the rest of the match.
Ciao for now. Catch you guys next week Have an amazing weekend!
**********************
Hello My Lovely Family and Friends,
First I want to thank you so very much for your concern for me. I am very touched. I also wish to apologize for a generic message to you all. But it seems the best way at the moment to get my message to you.
Things here in Sendai have been rather surreal. But I am very blessed to
have wonderful friends who are helping me a lot. Since my shack is even
more worthy of that name, I am now staying at a friend's home. We share
supplies like water, food and a kerosene heater. We sleep lined up in one room, eat by candlelight, share stories. It is warm, friendly, and beautiful.
During the day we help each other clean up the mess in our homes. People sit in their cars, looking at news on their navigation screens, or line up to get drinking water when a source is open. If someone has water running in their home, they put out sign so people can come to fill up their jugs
and buckets.
Utterly amazingly where I am there has been no looting, no pushing in
lines. People leave their front door open, as it is safer when an
earthquake strikes. People keep saying, "Oh, this is how it used to be in the old days when everyone helped one another."
Quakes keep coming. Last night they struck about every 15 minutes. Sirens
are constant and helicopters pass overhead often.
We got water for a few hours in our homes last night, and now it is for
half a day. Electricity came on this afternoon. Gas has not yet come on.
But all of this is by area. Some people have these things, others do not.
No one has washed for several days. We feel grubby, but there are so much
more important concerns than that for us now. I love this peeling away of
non-essentials. Living fully on the level of instinct, of intuition, of caring, of what is needed for survival, not just of me, but of the entire group.
There are strange parallel universes happening. Houses a mess in some
places, yet then a house with futons or laundry out drying in the sun.
People lining up for water and food, and yet a few people out walking
their dogs. All happening at the same time.
Other unexpected touches of beauty are first, the silence at night. No
cars. No one out on the streets. And the heavens at night are scattered
with stars. I usually can see about two, but now the whole sky is filled.
The mountains are Sendai are solid and with the crisp air we can see them
silhouetted against the sky magnificently.
And the Japanese themselves are so wonderful. I come back to my shack to
check on it each day, now to send this e-mail since the electricity is on,
and I find food and water left in my entranceway. I have no idea from
whom, but it is there. Old men in green hats go from door to door checking
to see if everyone is OK. People talk to complete strangers asking if they
need help. I see no signs of fear. Resignation, yes, but fear or panic,
no.
They tell us we can expect aftershocks, and even other major quakes, for another month or more. And we are getting constant tremors, rolls, shaking, rumbling. I am blessed in that I live in a part of Sendai that is
a bit elevated, a bit more solid than other parts. So, so far this area is
better off than others. Last night my friend's husband came in from the
country, bringing food and water. Blessed again.
Somehow at this time I realize from direct experience that there is indeed
an enormous Cosmic evolutionary step that is occurring all over the world
right at this moment. And somehow as I experience the events happening now
in Japan, I can feel my heart opening very wide. My brother asked me if I
felt so small because of all that is happening. I don't. Rather, I feel as
part of something happening that much larger than myself. This wave of
birthing (worldwide) is hard, and yet magnificent.
Thank you again for your care and Love of me,
With Love in return, to you all,
Ciao for now. Catch you guys next week Have an amazing weekend!
**********************
Hello My Lovely Family and Friends,
First I want to thank you so very much for your concern for me. I am very touched. I also wish to apologize for a generic message to you all. But it seems the best way at the moment to get my message to you.
Things here in Sendai have been rather surreal. But I am very blessed to
have wonderful friends who are helping me a lot. Since my shack is even
more worthy of that name, I am now staying at a friend's home. We share
supplies like water, food and a kerosene heater. We sleep lined up in one room, eat by candlelight, share stories. It is warm, friendly, and beautiful.
During the day we help each other clean up the mess in our homes. People sit in their cars, looking at news on their navigation screens, or line up to get drinking water when a source is open. If someone has water running in their home, they put out sign so people can come to fill up their jugs
and buckets.
Utterly amazingly where I am there has been no looting, no pushing in
lines. People leave their front door open, as it is safer when an
earthquake strikes. People keep saying, "Oh, this is how it used to be in the old days when everyone helped one another."
Quakes keep coming. Last night they struck about every 15 minutes. Sirens
are constant and helicopters pass overhead often.
We got water for a few hours in our homes last night, and now it is for
half a day. Electricity came on this afternoon. Gas has not yet come on.
But all of this is by area. Some people have these things, others do not.
No one has washed for several days. We feel grubby, but there are so much
more important concerns than that for us now. I love this peeling away of
non-essentials. Living fully on the level of instinct, of intuition, of caring, of what is needed for survival, not just of me, but of the entire group.
There are strange parallel universes happening. Houses a mess in some
places, yet then a house with futons or laundry out drying in the sun.
People lining up for water and food, and yet a few people out walking
their dogs. All happening at the same time.
Other unexpected touches of beauty are first, the silence at night. No
cars. No one out on the streets. And the heavens at night are scattered
with stars. I usually can see about two, but now the whole sky is filled.
The mountains are Sendai are solid and with the crisp air we can see them
silhouetted against the sky magnificently.
And the Japanese themselves are so wonderful. I come back to my shack to
check on it each day, now to send this e-mail since the electricity is on,
and I find food and water left in my entranceway. I have no idea from
whom, but it is there. Old men in green hats go from door to door checking
to see if everyone is OK. People talk to complete strangers asking if they
need help. I see no signs of fear. Resignation, yes, but fear or panic,
no.
They tell us we can expect aftershocks, and even other major quakes, for another month or more. And we are getting constant tremors, rolls, shaking, rumbling. I am blessed in that I live in a part of Sendai that is
a bit elevated, a bit more solid than other parts. So, so far this area is
better off than others. Last night my friend's husband came in from the
country, bringing food and water. Blessed again.
Somehow at this time I realize from direct experience that there is indeed
an enormous Cosmic evolutionary step that is occurring all over the world
right at this moment. And somehow as I experience the events happening now
in Japan, I can feel my heart opening very wide. My brother asked me if I
felt so small because of all that is happening. I don't. Rather, I feel as
part of something happening that much larger than myself. This wave of
birthing (worldwide) is hard, and yet magnificent.
Thank you again for your care and Love of me,
With Love in return, to you all,
Monday, 21 March 2011
Here's the much delayed 'Ishquiya' review....
A case of freak Bollywood casting….
I watched ‘Ishquiya’ last night ( yes, I know…. I am guilty of being way behind schedule on this one!), and I thought to myself, there are two kinds of male stars in Bollywood, just two – star sons … and the others. If you are not a star bachcha or bhaanja, your chances of making it to the big league are discouraging, if not downright dismal. Look at Arshad Warsi in ‘Ishquiya’ ( and earlier in ‘Munnabhai’, of course). The guy has what it takes in terms of macho, good looks as well as prodigous talent. He is red- hot sexy in ‘Ishquiya’ and it is obvious what Vidya Balan’s character sees in him – pure testosterone. The scene in which she nicks his thumb with a knife and then sticks it into her own mouth to suck on it, is so erotically charged, it beats Munni’s and Sheela’s jhatkas hollow. I don’t know whether it’s the surma in Arshad’s eyes ( a bandit from Bihar wearing blue lenses and electric blue eyeliner? Sab chalta hai in Bollywood, boss), or his daredevil attitude – but it works big time. Compare his rugged masculinity to the sissy, chocolate boy looks of the star- sons ruling the roost – those milk sop, namby- pamby mama’s boys who can’t say ‘boo’ to a goose. And look at Warsi in this particular role… even when the heroine isn’t sucking his thumb provocatively, kissing him passionately or rolling around in bed with him after a raunchy dance number. This guy delivers big time… and that isn’t easy when an actor is pitted against veteran Naseeruddin Shah…. yes, even for the luscious lady’s attention. He gets the best line in the movie when he points out to Naseeruddin that what he (Shah) feels for Vidya is called ‘ishq’, but his own ‘ishq’ for her is dismissed as sex!
As a Bhardwaj movie, I was pretty disappointed with the award-winning ‘Ishquiya’. It was way too glossy, for one. And had the look and feel of a well produced television serial set in the badlands of India. Most of the characters were pretty one-dimensional. And it wasn’t clear whether the director wanted to make a rom-com, a comic caper, or a strong, statement film. By casting Vidya against type, Vishal made his boldest move. And on her part, Vidya was wow! Those tantalizing backless cholis, and the carefully disheveled hair… the kohl-lined eyes and nude lipsticked mouth! But more than all of that, her uninhibited, sexually charged performance in which she plays one man against another with such ease, and makes complete lattoos out of the lot, has the audience panting for more. Since this is a movie more about sexual politics than gang wars, kidnappings and caste equations, Vidya is the one person who holds it all together. Also, the cheeky kid who plays Nandu , the teen Thakur who is trained to handle guns and kill on sight, is a terrific find. She has certainly come into her own with two outstanding performances within a span of a few months (“Nobody Killed Jessica,” being the other one). Vidya, like Arshad , is an ‘outsider’ who is not a pampered, superficial, anorexic star daughter . She doesn’t need to bitch out co-stars, nor flash her designer labels ( can these ladies spell ‘Prada’?) to attract attention. Vidya is far too refined for such cheap stunts. Yet, she is right up there , giving a run for their money to all those clotheshorses with zero talent but loads of attitude. Vidya could become an iconic, superstar – like Vyjayanthimala before her. I will not say Hema Malini or Sridevi, who lack Vidya’s histrionic depth and range . Will Arshad and Vidya team up again? No chance! ‘Ishquiya’ was a freak case of inspired, brilliant casting. After its stupendous success, it will be business as usual for these two – more commercial Bollywood junk. Pity!
A case of freak Bollywood casting….
I watched ‘Ishquiya’ last night ( yes, I know…. I am guilty of being way behind schedule on this one!), and I thought to myself, there are two kinds of male stars in Bollywood, just two – star sons … and the others. If you are not a star bachcha or bhaanja, your chances of making it to the big league are discouraging, if not downright dismal. Look at Arshad Warsi in ‘Ishquiya’ ( and earlier in ‘Munnabhai’, of course). The guy has what it takes in terms of macho, good looks as well as prodigous talent. He is red- hot sexy in ‘Ishquiya’ and it is obvious what Vidya Balan’s character sees in him – pure testosterone. The scene in which she nicks his thumb with a knife and then sticks it into her own mouth to suck on it, is so erotically charged, it beats Munni’s and Sheela’s jhatkas hollow. I don’t know whether it’s the surma in Arshad’s eyes ( a bandit from Bihar wearing blue lenses and electric blue eyeliner? Sab chalta hai in Bollywood, boss), or his daredevil attitude – but it works big time. Compare his rugged masculinity to the sissy, chocolate boy looks of the star- sons ruling the roost – those milk sop, namby- pamby mama’s boys who can’t say ‘boo’ to a goose. And look at Warsi in this particular role… even when the heroine isn’t sucking his thumb provocatively, kissing him passionately or rolling around in bed with him after a raunchy dance number. This guy delivers big time… and that isn’t easy when an actor is pitted against veteran Naseeruddin Shah…. yes, even for the luscious lady’s attention. He gets the best line in the movie when he points out to Naseeruddin that what he (Shah) feels for Vidya is called ‘ishq’, but his own ‘ishq’ for her is dismissed as sex!
As a Bhardwaj movie, I was pretty disappointed with the award-winning ‘Ishquiya’. It was way too glossy, for one. And had the look and feel of a well produced television serial set in the badlands of India. Most of the characters were pretty one-dimensional. And it wasn’t clear whether the director wanted to make a rom-com, a comic caper, or a strong, statement film. By casting Vidya against type, Vishal made his boldest move. And on her part, Vidya was wow! Those tantalizing backless cholis, and the carefully disheveled hair… the kohl-lined eyes and nude lipsticked mouth! But more than all of that, her uninhibited, sexually charged performance in which she plays one man against another with such ease, and makes complete lattoos out of the lot, has the audience panting for more. Since this is a movie more about sexual politics than gang wars, kidnappings and caste equations, Vidya is the one person who holds it all together. Also, the cheeky kid who plays Nandu , the teen Thakur who is trained to handle guns and kill on sight, is a terrific find. She has certainly come into her own with two outstanding performances within a span of a few months (“Nobody Killed Jessica,” being the other one). Vidya, like Arshad , is an ‘outsider’ who is not a pampered, superficial, anorexic star daughter . She doesn’t need to bitch out co-stars, nor flash her designer labels ( can these ladies spell ‘Prada’?) to attract attention. Vidya is far too refined for such cheap stunts. Yet, she is right up there , giving a run for their money to all those clotheshorses with zero talent but loads of attitude. Vidya could become an iconic, superstar – like Vyjayanthimala before her. I will not say Hema Malini or Sridevi, who lack Vidya’s histrionic depth and range . Will Arshad and Vidya team up again? No chance! ‘Ishquiya’ was a freak case of inspired, brilliant casting. After its stupendous success, it will be business as usual for these two – more commercial Bollywood junk. Pity!
The cover story above is from a Chennai-based magazine. And the column below is the one I wrote for the Asian Age on saturday. I had a hectic time ( so.... ummmm... what else is new?) in Singapore. But more on that in another post. The good news is that Singapore has gone from Sanitised to Sexy in under a decade. It is looking gorgeous, and I had a great time there...************* 80…. Not out! Buffet bats hard for Team India… and himself! Warren Buffet exhausts me. I’m sure he exhausted several other people on his virgin trip to India. At 80,he is still at the crease, batting away… and going by his energy levels, he’ll hit his century effortlessly. It is just not natural for an octogenarian to be jetting half way around the world at such a hectic speed. He described his quickie chakker to India as a ‘Better late than never’ trip. And came up with a booklet full of quotable quotes, starting with philanthropy being much harder and riskier than business. At around the same time, another American Billionaire buddy of his , Bill Gates, was also floating around the countryside telling us what to do with our money ( earn it – and donate it!). Why do I get the feeling India is being sent on a massive guilt trip by these two guys? And why do we need to take lessons in charity from anybody? Least of all super rich Americans who have made their pile. One of whom has an established business here, (the other wishes to establish business in India)?Declared the Oracle of Omaha in Bangalore, “We want to be where the action is, and the action is here.” No kidding, buddy!Someone obviously forgot to tell these two guys our approach to philanthropy is different. ‘Daan’ has always been an intrinsic part of our culture. If the present generation has callously ignored the message from the shastras – that’s their business. The thought of being lectured to by people who represent the land of milk and honey, and scolded that we are not doing enough, is a bit much. I think it is condescending and patronizing in the extreme for anybody to preach charity. To each his own. And decision to give or not to give, or even how much to give and to whom, is a very individual one. We keep hearing wonderful speeches on Corporate Social Responsibility, and there are enough people cashing in on the glory attached to it. But give me a break. Warren Buffet is obviously a very , very generous chap ( he has pledged 99 % of his fortune, mainly to the Bill&Melinda Gates Foundation). Well, good for him. And I am sure the angels in heaven ( where his seat is guaranteed) will compose a special song for him when he gets to the pearly gates. But right now, what he is doing in India is scouting around for fresh opportunities to make still more money. He has his ‘brother or son” Shri Ajit Jain, to help him invest in the country via Berkshire Hathaway ( more chewing gum, anyone?). We are cool with that. We are also cool with more fizzy drinks ( thanda matlab…?) hitting our stores, what with summer around the corner and over a billion parched throats to quench. Buffet says he hasn’t come her with an ‘elephant gun’ loaded for acquisitions, but hey – we are cool with that, too. India is original elephant country. I am confused. Perhaps I am too ‘retarded’ ( Buffet’s word to describe the delay in his coming to India) to get it. But the man is here to make even more money – right? And after he has made it, he will donate it, right? Meanwhile, his share holders will be a happy lot, since Buffet has assured them he is scaling up and looking at big markets like India, China and Brazil. He also told overwhelmed, gushing reporters that he feels he has more money than he needs – he eats well, takes vacations, watches movies… the regular stuff lesser mortals indulge in even without those billions and trillions. So, the logical question to ask him is this : “Why do you want to make more money, Sir?” His answer will be : “ The more money I make, the more I can give.” Noble. Our Mr. and Mrs. Money Bags are being prodded into following the Gates-Buffet pattern of giving. They are being coerced into parting with large portions of their wealth, because they are told it makes them look good. Heaven knows how convinced they are about all this giving-shiving of their paisa, and God knows what their children think about it (“Grrrrrr…. Dad! Mom! Ab mera kya hoga?”). But ‘Giving’ is the new a la mode statement to make. And all these ‘new’ ‘improved’ charity drives amongst loaded desis have a lot to do with Keeping Up With The Buffets. How can you hope to sit at the High Table in Davos if you haven’t announced a humungous donation to a pet cause ?Without knocking these magnanimous gestures of our do- gooders, it is amusing to note the publicity machine that goes into overdrive when these grand donations are made. There’s nothing quiet or discreet about charity these days. And perhaps Gates \Buffet will argue the more you talk about it, the more it inspires others to reach for their wallets. I dunno. I have seen some high profile charity auctions at which dodgy millionaires have crept out of the woodwork for the all important photo- ops … only to creep right back again… zero follow ups, zero money . Where does all that lolly go?? Any answers?? The second and third richest men in the world doing zabardasti with the 55 desi co-Billionaires featured on the Forbes 2011 list, are definitely pushing their luck. Coaxing these guys to sign The Giving Pledge followed by a public statement and letter is really a bit much, as pressure tactics go. The Chinese are smarter. After a similar initiative in China last September, not a single Chinese billionaire who showed up for the banquet bothered to sign the pledge. That’s what is called the ultimate Oriental snub. Let’s see whether the multi-course Indian buffet piles on more on the table than the Chinese one. Or else, the world’s most famous philanthropists may go home hungry and disappointed. No such thing as a free lunch… perhaps India is not the moveable feast Bill and Warren expected it to be!
This appeared in a few editions of the Sunday TOI yesterday. Why just a few? Because of Holi! Don't ask me how it works, but some cities celebrated Holi on saturday and got their newspapers on Sunday. Mumbai went paperless.... and my Sunday morning was so very empty without my Sunday fix ( newspapers + upma+ coffee). However, it was the super moon weekend... and I made the most of it later in the night - took my daughters for a moonstruck drink at my favourite bar - DOME - from where we watched the moon hungrily, and looked at countless hotties clad in LBDs, as they tottered in on impossibly high heels.
This morning, my coffee tasted so much better with the daily stack of newspapers next to the tray. I read a wonderful piece on Holi ( not my best festival - I find it vulgar and filthy) in The Speaking Tree. It's written by P.C.Jain and Daljeet and talks about the origins of the festival .The part I liked a lot described Holi as nature's own 'utsav'. While the ultimate Holi was played by Radha when she dyed herself in Krishna's 'shyam rang' - thus becoming the first one to celebrate Holi in her entire being! Utterly romantic!!
I tried uploading two new interviews - with zero success. Aparna, I need your help!
****************
Batcha – Gotcha!
“There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza,” sang Harry Belafonte, many moons ago, and all those of us who grew up singing along with him, generally chorused, “Then fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry.Fix it!” Right now, there is a gaping hole in the Congress bucket – but who’s going to fix it, dear Sonia, dear Sonia…? Not Manmohan Singh, for sure. He has finished ‘owning up’ – remember? As a bewildered and increasingly frustrated nation watches the muck flying around, there is a disquiet building up within a certain section, which needs to be paid attention to… or else. Or else – what? The cynics will ask. Or else… or else, the hole will get bigger and bigger, and nobody will be able to fix it, till it’s too late. With all the leaks doing the rounds, it’s time to just say it out loud – India is in a mess. A gigantic mess. And unless we acknowledge that, nothing is likely to change in the near future. Recently, there was a front page photograph of a middle- aged, portly, pot- bellied ‘Youth Congress’ protestor holding a cut out of Rahul Gandhi, while getting hosed down by the Chandigarh police. It was a telling image. In a country that keeps touting its youth status and reminding the world we have over half a billion young people to fall back on, it would be interesting to ask politicians to define youth. Is youth a mind set or an age? We seem to fail on both counts. Eons ago, we used to laugh at 50- year- old ‘Young Turks’, grey at the temples, and bent in the knees, who would insist on posing as jawan politicos ready to overthrow the oldie goldies ( true blue geriatrics, several years older). Today, the same saga continues with 40+ fellows still playing the youth card. It’s a carry forward of the Bollywood story, where say, a 46-year-old Aamir Khan can get away playing a college student ( ‘3 Idiots’), and nobody cares because Aamir is Aamir and so bloody good at what he does. Rahul Gandhi ( a late and reluctant entrant in the big, bad world of politics) is still treated as a bachcha - a novice, a newbie, an apprentice…. someone who needs at least ten more years to learn the ropes before he emerges as a full fledged politician. India is waiting patiently for the boy to grow up.
Meanwhile , there are Big Boys like Balwa ( handsome, aggressive and all of 36), who are teaching a trick or two to the veterans and threatening to take a few down with him. This week’s boy-victim is A.M.Sadiq Batcha (37) whose body was found hanging from a ceiling fan by his wife. This is yet another incredible story about a lowly door-to-door salesman, who used to hawk readymade garments not that long ago. In two, short decades, Batcha swiftly became a globe-trotting M.D. of a company with a turnover of 750 crores. A mind boggling, but increasingly familiar scenario . Was Batcha’s death murder or suicide? Well… our super brilliant investigating agencies are on the job. Which means we shall never find out, and by this time next week it will be a stale, dead story. His mentor, former telecom minister A.Raja, must be relieved that the dead man was considerate enough to leave a suicide note giving the tainted telecom player a clean chit and declaring his old boss “ innocent”.That was pretty thoughtful of him. Batcha is conveniently dead and out of the way ( rumours of Batcha turning approver were highly exaggerated – right?).He has taken Raja’s dirty secrets to the grave with him. Perhaps CBI sleuths are equally relieved… one less person to grill. The story , which was hotting up… will cool down predictably, just like the world hopes will happen with the Fukushima reactors.
But the more puzzling question continues to persist : where have all the asli young ones gone? The hot blooded students of India? Why are they so indifferent, so passive? They claim piously on various platforms to want to be the change they wish to see. But hello! It isn’t happening. The only change one sees is in their hairstyles. The famous ‘attitude’ is restricted to fashion and sex. They remain an obstinately apathetic lot when it comes to politics. They also insist there isn’t a single leader they can connect with. Which is largely true, given the average age in parliament. The few young politicians ( mainly sons and daughters of netas) are seen occupying front row seats during fashion week far more often than doing anything worthwhile in their own constituencies. Their presence is regularly established in cutting edge photo shoots for glam mags where they preen and pose in the latest designer gear, while those who elected them in the first place, keep wondering where their saviours have disappeared. If there is indeed any genuine angst, anger, disenchantment with the current political scenario, it stays strictly below the radar. At this point, it is hard to visualize a gathering of incensed, young protestors at India Gate or the Gateway of India. Maybe, for this generation, Tahrir Square remains a far off destination that has nothing to do with us or our concerns. Libya and Gaddafi? Bahrain? Oman? ‘Dil to Batcha Hai, Ji?” Ummm… cool movie. Chill guys…. have some Bhang and groove to Rang Barase…. pass the pichkari…pump up the volume. Holi Hai!
This morning, my coffee tasted so much better with the daily stack of newspapers next to the tray. I read a wonderful piece on Holi ( not my best festival - I find it vulgar and filthy) in The Speaking Tree. It's written by P.C.Jain and Daljeet and talks about the origins of the festival .The part I liked a lot described Holi as nature's own 'utsav'. While the ultimate Holi was played by Radha when she dyed herself in Krishna's 'shyam rang' - thus becoming the first one to celebrate Holi in her entire being! Utterly romantic!!
I tried uploading two new interviews - with zero success. Aparna, I need your help!
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Batcha – Gotcha!
“There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza,” sang Harry Belafonte, many moons ago, and all those of us who grew up singing along with him, generally chorused, “Then fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry.Fix it!” Right now, there is a gaping hole in the Congress bucket – but who’s going to fix it, dear Sonia, dear Sonia…? Not Manmohan Singh, for sure. He has finished ‘owning up’ – remember? As a bewildered and increasingly frustrated nation watches the muck flying around, there is a disquiet building up within a certain section, which needs to be paid attention to… or else. Or else – what? The cynics will ask. Or else… or else, the hole will get bigger and bigger, and nobody will be able to fix it, till it’s too late. With all the leaks doing the rounds, it’s time to just say it out loud – India is in a mess. A gigantic mess. And unless we acknowledge that, nothing is likely to change in the near future. Recently, there was a front page photograph of a middle- aged, portly, pot- bellied ‘Youth Congress’ protestor holding a cut out of Rahul Gandhi, while getting hosed down by the Chandigarh police. It was a telling image. In a country that keeps touting its youth status and reminding the world we have over half a billion young people to fall back on, it would be interesting to ask politicians to define youth. Is youth a mind set or an age? We seem to fail on both counts. Eons ago, we used to laugh at 50- year- old ‘Young Turks’, grey at the temples, and bent in the knees, who would insist on posing as jawan politicos ready to overthrow the oldie goldies ( true blue geriatrics, several years older). Today, the same saga continues with 40+ fellows still playing the youth card. It’s a carry forward of the Bollywood story, where say, a 46-year-old Aamir Khan can get away playing a college student ( ‘3 Idiots’), and nobody cares because Aamir is Aamir and so bloody good at what he does. Rahul Gandhi ( a late and reluctant entrant in the big, bad world of politics) is still treated as a bachcha - a novice, a newbie, an apprentice…. someone who needs at least ten more years to learn the ropes before he emerges as a full fledged politician. India is waiting patiently for the boy to grow up.
Meanwhile , there are Big Boys like Balwa ( handsome, aggressive and all of 36), who are teaching a trick or two to the veterans and threatening to take a few down with him. This week’s boy-victim is A.M.Sadiq Batcha (37) whose body was found hanging from a ceiling fan by his wife. This is yet another incredible story about a lowly door-to-door salesman, who used to hawk readymade garments not that long ago. In two, short decades, Batcha swiftly became a globe-trotting M.D. of a company with a turnover of 750 crores. A mind boggling, but increasingly familiar scenario . Was Batcha’s death murder or suicide? Well… our super brilliant investigating agencies are on the job. Which means we shall never find out, and by this time next week it will be a stale, dead story. His mentor, former telecom minister A.Raja, must be relieved that the dead man was considerate enough to leave a suicide note giving the tainted telecom player a clean chit and declaring his old boss “ innocent”.That was pretty thoughtful of him. Batcha is conveniently dead and out of the way ( rumours of Batcha turning approver were highly exaggerated – right?).He has taken Raja’s dirty secrets to the grave with him. Perhaps CBI sleuths are equally relieved… one less person to grill. The story , which was hotting up… will cool down predictably, just like the world hopes will happen with the Fukushima reactors.
But the more puzzling question continues to persist : where have all the asli young ones gone? The hot blooded students of India? Why are they so indifferent, so passive? They claim piously on various platforms to want to be the change they wish to see. But hello! It isn’t happening. The only change one sees is in their hairstyles. The famous ‘attitude’ is restricted to fashion and sex. They remain an obstinately apathetic lot when it comes to politics. They also insist there isn’t a single leader they can connect with. Which is largely true, given the average age in parliament. The few young politicians ( mainly sons and daughters of netas) are seen occupying front row seats during fashion week far more often than doing anything worthwhile in their own constituencies. Their presence is regularly established in cutting edge photo shoots for glam mags where they preen and pose in the latest designer gear, while those who elected them in the first place, keep wondering where their saviours have disappeared. If there is indeed any genuine angst, anger, disenchantment with the current political scenario, it stays strictly below the radar. At this point, it is hard to visualize a gathering of incensed, young protestors at India Gate or the Gateway of India. Maybe, for this generation, Tahrir Square remains a far off destination that has nothing to do with us or our concerns. Libya and Gaddafi? Bahrain? Oman? ‘Dil to Batcha Hai, Ji?” Ummm… cool movie. Chill guys…. have some Bhang and groove to Rang Barase…. pass the pichkari…pump up the volume. Holi Hai!
Thursday, 17 March 2011
Manoj Kesharwani is quite a character. I like to describe him as India's pioneering paparazzo. He was way ahead of the pack, and managed to beat all his rivals when it came to clicking exclusives - especially of Bollywood stars visiting Delhi. Perhaps it was his over enthusiasm that cost him his job! He was somehow blamed for alerting other lensmen in the Capital about Bipasha Basu's presence in a 5-star suite. What followed was not pleasant. Bipasha insists those rowdy photographers nearly broke down the door of her suite at some ghastly hour of the night, and she felt traumatised enough to summon local help and somehow flee the premises at 4 a.m.All I know is, it got messy for Manoj. Pity! I have always enjoyed working with him - as is evident from this shot, taken three years ago at an event in Delhi. Just yesterday he sent me a whole bunch of great images - from Bill Clinton, Anoushka Shanker to Priyanka Chopra and Shah Rukh Khan. He really deserves to do well - he is enterprising, cheerful and good at his job.
Let me know if you want me to share his assorted images and I shall try my best to upload a few.
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My wrist saga continues.... am willing to give hynosis a shot. Or acupuncture. Since I am headed to Singapore for a literary salon, perhaps I should try and get an appointment with the legendary Doctor Po.
Tuesday, 15 March 2011
This is a remarkable story about a remarkable young person. I met Bharti at a 'sangeet'. It was my friend's daughter who was getting married the next day.... and there were lots of beautifully dressed young people letting their hair down on the dance floor. As the dj pumped it up, I noticed a lovely young girl in a wheelchair. Her gal pals were encouraging her to participate and she was doing just that! With a brave smile on her face, she was waving her arms around to join in and be a part of the celebrations. Initially, I thought she may have fractured a leg and would soon be back on her feet. Unfortunately, the story was vastly different. It is a story of gross negligence, neglect and sheer callousness on the part of the guilty individuals who robbed a young, talented woman of her legs.... her life.... her livelihood... and her love.And to think this happened at a popular night club in a 5-star hotel in Juhu, which was owned and promoted by a celebrity DJ and his partner. Despite her best efforts, nothing has happened so far. Forget responsibility or any talk of compensation, she has yet to receive even an apology.
Read on.... and if you want to know the identity of the guilty, ask me. The magazine that ran the story didn't wish to identify the hotel or the well-connected DJ. Bharti herself is not a VIP's daughter.... so, basically nobody gives a damn.
Well, Blogdosts.... let's show her, we do!
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