It's all in the Jeans!

Says Shantanu Das about his award winning picture, "Ëverybody loves glamour."

Blogdosts, do you agree? Do you like the image? I do! There are so very many stories in the photograph. Check out the guy on the right, clicking the glam gal on his camera. It happens all the time. Can celebs do anything about it? Naah. Not really.

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Tomorrow afternoon at 5 pm, Mr. Amitabh Bachchan will be kicking off a global initiative when he launches Parikrma's unique Jeanaration programme at the Taj Land's End Hotel, Mumbai. It's interesting to see how this drive finally pans out. The idea is simple: Parikrma, a Bangalore-based NGO headed by the dynamic Shukla Bose, gets top stars to donate a pair of signed jeans for a worthy cause. These jeans are then auctioned on e-bay at the celebrity site. All the money generated goes towards providing world class education to the poorest, under-served kids, who would otherwise languish without the slightest hope of a better life. Parikrma has already seen over a 1000 kids through school and college during the 10 years of its existence. With this fresh impetus, many more will benefit.

Mr. Bachchan was kind and generous when I approached him, even though he is shooting non-stop for KBC, leaving home at 8 a.m. and often getting back at 10 p.m. He works much harder than people half his age. I felt guilty asking him to carve out time for Parikrma. We deeply appreciate his good will. And the kids haven't stopped smiling!

The Big B turns 70 this October. A little bird tells me there are major plans afoot to celebrate his landmark birthday in style. One of these involves 70 artists and 70 artworks. Ssssh! My lips are sealed... but going by what I have seen, this one is going to be a whopper of a birthday! Why not? Which other mega star has earned it in quite the same way?

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How was Dilli? How CAN Dilli be? I had a one point agenda - to meet the new U.S. Ambassador - the first lady to be posted as the American Ambassador to India. It marks an important first and sends out the right signal, given her interests in women and child issues. I enjoyed meeting Nancy Powell - and welcome to India, Madam Ambassador!

There was a bonus thrown in as well. I met Manushi founder and passionate champion of women's rights, Madhu Kishwar, at the American reception, and invited her back to the hotel to have dinner with me. Over a two hour meal ( I had a brilliant foie gras omlette at 'Machaan'), we discovered we had several similar concerns. She has just won an important case defending the rights of cycle rickshaw pullers to ply their trade fairly. Well done, Madhu.

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Hai! Hai! Now funerals as events!

This is a picture I keep going back to.... the magnificent Fort in Lisbon. It was a terrific evening.... and I couldn't stop clicking.

Am in Delhi for two days.... may or may not be in this space.... you have been warned!

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My column in Bombay times today...

Hai! Hai! Now funerals as ‘events’…

“Itna sanaata kyun hai, bhai?” could well be A.K.Hangal’s epitaph. Such is the irony and tragedy of life. When the senior actor passed away at age 98, after dedicating over 50 years of his life to movies and theatre, merely a handful from the film industry showed up to pay their last respects. Hangal’s one liner from ‘Sholay’ ( “Itna sanaata…”) must have reverberated in the Vile Parle crematorium where his last rites were performed by his grieving son, surrounded by Raza Murad, Ila Aroon and a few others. Such a poor showing for a Padma Bhushan awardee, who had acted in more than 200 films! Expecting major stars to turn up at the funeral, the Mumbai police had arranged for a bandobast… but obviously, the big guys had other priorities. However, it has to be said that when funds were required to pay Hangal’s mounting medical bills, and it became known that the actor was leading a life of penury, several large hearted stars like Amitabh Bachchan, Aamir Khan, Salman Khan and Mithun Chakraborthy, generously came forward to help the family. All the more distressing that the turn out at the Grand Old Man’s funeral was as low…. Even if the tributes were lavish.

It’s now come to a point where we make zero distinction between ‘events’. Everything has been converted into an event. And numbers say it all, whether it is a movie premiere, fashion show, birthday, music launch, book launch, film preview,success party, shaadi …. or funeral. It’s only about the celebrity turnout. Another line from ‘Sholay’ comes back to haunt us today, “Kitney aadmi thhe?” Hungry for content, media wallas wait for hours , often in awful conditions, for the big names to show up. When that does not happen ( as in the case of poor Hangal), features’ editors holding up a page for the all important celeb images, tear their hair out in frustration. All that blank space has to be filled! A film star funeral generally guarantees several photo- ops . Look no further than Rajesh Khanna’s. There were enough images and quotes at his blow out of a funeral to cram into several supplements. Poor Hangal was not as blessed.

This is the way the cookie crumbles, not just in Bollywood-crazy India, but in Hollywood as well. From Michael Jackson to Liz Taylor and Whitney Huston, the coverage of their spectacular funerals was flashed across the globe for days and weeks , focusing as much on their achievements as on the celeb quotient at the ‘events’. P.R. firms have started to recognize high profile funerals as valid image making ( or breaking) opportunities. These days , it is not unusual to receive calls from assorted p.r. agencies crassly asking, “ So…. will you be attending so-and-so’s funeral?” The time is not far off when there will be show stoppers at crematoriums and fashion designers will create ‘looks’ for funerals, same as they create lehengas for weddings. Sounds horrible – but it’s happening!

A.K. Hangal will be remembered with love and respect by his Marxist colleagues. For a humble tailor from Karachi to make it in Mumbai’s film industry and contribute to over 225 films, is by no means a small achievement. Rahim Chaacha lived and died, as a brave and proud worker. Thank God, his funeral was not converted into an event.

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Somewhere over the rainbow....

Two cities. Two cheerful images. The near perfect rainbow was spotted by my daughter Arundhati over the tennis courts of the Bombay Gymkhana. She interrupted her game to click it over her phone. The other image was clicked by our Blogdost Nitin Rai ( theyoginme) capturing the spectacular fireworks in Chicago. I found the pictures uplifting and inspirational on an otherwise unexceptional Sunday...more from me tomorrow... a hectic Monday beckons.

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Raj ki Aag! Thackeray's comeuppance....

This picture was taken at the Citadel Awards' function in Pune recently.

This appeared in Asian Age today....

Raj ki Aag - Thackeray presents a new face…

Can a Tiger change his stripes… a leopard, its spots, a shark, its fins? No, na?But the ‘new’, ‘improved’ version of Raj Thackeray which was dramatically unveiled on 21^st August at Mumbai’s historic Azad Maidan, took everybody by surprise – friends and foes alike. Perhaps his game plan was only known to key aides. But the man known for his choice expletives and insults, stumped everybody, especially the Mumbai police, when he refrained from flashing his characteristic rabble rousing , abuse spewing , fire breathing persona, choosing a more mature and restrained approach instead. I’d call this tactic a political master stroke. In one swift move , Raj acquired a new face and repositioned himself . He also sent out a super calibrated signal that said : I am the boss!Raj shrewdly picked the perfect platform to announce his elevated status. Mumbai was still reeling from and perplexed about the frontal assault earlier in the week that had seen two protestors dead, and several people ( cops included) injured. In an unprecedented development, rampaging mobs had targeted policemen and women constables, besides the media. This shocking and audacious attack on authority had shaken Mumbai, more so because the cops had been converted into passive sitting ducks, their rifles boldly snatched and their very dignity stripped. Raj Thackeray found his moment. And his speech. Raj talked about Maharashtra being his only dharma. It was a moment that could have been seized and exploited by any other politician. But wasn’t. This is where Raj scored. Critics called it political opportunism. Admirers hailed him as the Saviour Of Mumbai. Yes ! The same Raj who was routinely damned for destroying the city and attacking innocent ‘Outsiders’ was suddenly being praised for speaking up on behalf of concerned citizens Forgotten were his old disruptive rallies, his threats and aggression. Raj acquired a halo overnight. The Dark Knight had risen. All was instantly forgiven. But wait a minute - Raj had done what any smart player should – he had used the State Government’s vulnerability to consolidate his own position. Mumbai had been left quaking and worried. People expected the Raj rally to paralyse normal life. Citizens had taken all the necessary precautions, schools and colleges had shut early, shop keepers had sensibly downed shutters. Trouble – big trouble – was anticipated, After all, it was Raj Thackeray… and he was on the warpath. Instead, Raj pulled a fast one - he defied the stereotype, behaved himself, and effortlessly stole the show. The makeover was complete. To understand what this means, one has to deconstruct the Raj image first. Let’s see – what does Raj Thackeray stand for? That depends on who you ask. But, since public perception counts for everything in politics, the bald truth is Raj has a terrible reputation. His image sucks.He has been variously seen as an egotistical tyrant, hell bent on creating trouble, as a narrow minded, nakedly parochial leader unapologetically pampering the Marathi Manoos while terrorizing others, and worse. Raj Thackeray meant trouble. Period .

I’d say it was an image he had carefully cultivated , basing it on his uncle, mentor and Guru – Balasaheb Thackeray’s. Scare tactics, scrupulously adopted over decades of Balasaheb’s rule over the city, were now his nephew’s domain. Fear psychosis became the favoured instrument, and it worked. Nobody wanted to mess with this guy. Nobody dared to speak a word against him, no matter what the provocation. If Balasaheb could bring Mumbai to a standstill by a snap of his fingers, so could Raj. Consider the timing: his main political rival and first cousin Uddhav was dealing with health issues. When Raj decided to drive Uddhav to the hospital, it was interpreted as a pretty loaded goodwill gesture - would the warring cousins make peace and combine forces finally? Or was it Raj’s way of being one up on a weakened adversary ( after all, it was Raj in the driver’s seat – literally and metaphorically)?Well, his rockstar debut at Azad Maidan has been duly acknowledged as the big coming out party before the 2014 elections. He is being wooed by the Congress Party like never before. It’s an alliance made in heaven. If Raj sticks to the script and stays away from maari maari and goondagiri, he may succeed in convincing skeptics that he has grown up, and left his impetuous, hectoring ways behind. That may be a bit too much to expect just yet. While Raj’s urban fans definitely appreciate the latest makeover, his hardcore supporters love him for the old dialoguebaazi and dhamkis that send shivers down the spines of anybody in his path. Today, he has won just half the battle by getting rid of top cop Arup Patnaik , his bête noire, as the police commissioner. So far, R.R.Patil has not budged from his secure perch as Maharashtra’s Home Minister. Raj was baying for his blood , too. One head has rolled. The other may follow.If that happens, Raj’s position as the local Supremo, and Balasaheb’s worthy successor, will be hard to challenge.Till then, Raj should enjoy his current status as a poster boy for a better, safer Mumbai. With his trendy long hair and Aviators, Raj is playing to the galleries as Hero No.1. If for any reason, he loses interest in politics, there’s always Bollywood. Here’s a title for that blockbuster : Raj ki Aag.

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What men want! Hint: It's white,tight and bright!

Shantanu Das is one of our most successful photographers. This was an image he shot at a recent event. I rather like it! What about you????

Am planning to watch a dhoom dhadaka film today...The Expendables. Not my kind of film, at all. Par kya karey? Family ke vaastey karna padta hai... but at least I know the dinner to follow at my daughter's home will be amazing and fun. Last night's dinner at our favourite restaurant The Table, was outstanding as always... particularly the shrimp dumplings in a flavoursome broth. Even on a thursday night, the place was packed and buzzed. I sipped a Perrier after the longest time. I needed to cool off, after a pretty passionate debate on NDTV , dissecting the abrupt transfer of Mumbai's Police Commissioner, Arup Patnaik.

The weekend is looking good. I'll be booking my tickets for Shirin- Farhad. Can't wait to watch Farah Khan on the big screen. I am so sure she'll be brilliant. More roles for the talented Ms. Khan? " I don't want to play anybody's mother," she told me last week. Okayyyyy... I guess being a real life mom to triplets takes care of her maternal instincts all the way...

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I wrote this for The Week....

What men want: White, tight and bright!

Remember how we all mocked the launch of Fairness Creams for women in India all those many moons ago? Outrageous! Feminists declared authoritatively. Nobody paid the slightest attention to our strident squawks of protest. The market for the offensive product grew and grew and grew. It was soon declared the fastest selling cream in India, and before any of us could huff and puff some more, it was joined by its twin – a fairness cream for men! Apparently, the clamour for that product can barely be met by manufacturers.Who can argue against market forces? Or the persuasive powers of the male model – King Khan, himself? Soon, all of us shut up and a myriad brands of Fairness Creams continued to outpace demand on crowded supermarket shelves. One supposes, countless young couples found their dream mates thanks to the miracle of the cream. They also found glory in their jobs. And great success in any other equally stupendous activity they subsequently undertook. After all, their skin was now ten shades lighter than the one God had given them.

Not satisfied with lightening facial complexions, manufacturers discovered a fresh , new area of female insecurity that needed not just whitening, but also tightening. Thus was launched a brand new cream that promised to lighten the delicate skin of a women’s vagina. While that was happening, the cream promised a tighter private part that would impress future husbands. How? Well, the idea was to replicate a virgin’s non-violated, untouched orifice as faithfully as possible. To get this revolutionary product off the ground, the manufacturers of 18Again roped in starlet Celina Jaitley ( mother of twins, and a self- declared Gay Rights’ spokesperson) to endorse the controversial cream . If that dismayed her constituency, it hardly mattered. The dodgy product was launched anyway, amidst great fanfare and media coverage… plus, get this - nobody blushed. If anything, there were animated debates about the efficacy of the cream. Women asked, “Does it really work?” Tough question. Who can certify that? Think about it - a women’s face turning twenty shades lighter is visible to the world. But….her… errr….never mind!

Then came another wonderful product… this promised to bleach a women’s underarms! The advertising campaign was inspired and inspiring. It encouraged women to wear sleeveless garments now that their underarms were suitably white and worthy of close scrutiny by hawk eyed mothers-in-law. The bottom line remained the same – a white and tight vagina, in addition to smooth, fair underarms were the best ways to bag a good husband. But what about the man’s underarms and privates? Why not launch a bunch of products to address these key aesthetic issues that – hello! – do bother women? A lot! Or is that of zero importance in the marriage mandi? Does anybody really believe a young bride is blind? That she does not observe her brand new husband’s body…. armpits and other vital organs included? Should she also not insist on a more pleasing appearance when the moment of truth finally arrives? In all ‘fairness’, what if she turns up her nose at assorted anatomical details of her bridegroom’s jism being less than snow white? Or droopy? How can a sweet, trusting bride tell on her wedding night that she’s the one – the only one – her husband has ever touched? She can’t – right? And she has to lump it – whatever the shade of his skin in whichever area of his less-than- Adonis-like body. What’s the bet, canny cream makers are hard at work addressing this problem? If Shah Rukh Khan and Shahid Kapur could endorse a fairness cream for men and nobody sniggered. If Katrina Kaif can display smooth , hairless legs ( hair removing cream, along with a Fairness one) and Anushka Sharma shows off whitened arm pits … let’s just say we should take Celina Jaitley’s word for it that the 18 Again cream works big time. But… but…. what if it doesn’t? Will crest fallen hubbies demand their money back and send the bride packing? Pay close attention, girls : the future is bright only if you are white and tight where it matters. Got it???

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Bollywood's 100 Crore Club

Meet 9- year- 0ld Nolan. Have you seen a handsomer boy.... a more calm and beautiful one? I haven't! Not for the longest time. Nolan was in Pune last week to celebrate his 'Munjha'( thread ceremony). Going by his tranquil, Buddha -like expression, he really understood the significance of the ceremony and enjoyed himself. Take a bow, parents ( Nolan's mother is one of our Blogdosts), grand-parents and sister....

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This appeared in Bombay Times today....

Bollywood’s 100 Crore Club

Bollywood’s latest obsession with movies that gross 100 crores in record breaking time, is both amusing and somewhat alarming. It has given birth to a brand new caste system in which the film industry is neatly divided into those who belong to the elite club and those that don’t. The latest entrant is ‘Ek Tha Tiger’, a movie riddled with so many absurdities, it’s pointless to list them. Not that it matters. It has crossed the magic number and who cares about anything else? The Box Office is king. And nobody argues with that. The problem is not with mass entertainers like Ek Tha Tiger raking in the big bucks, it is with the less than enthusiastic response to the real gems that fail to make this kind of insane money. Also, because of this 100 crore divide, movie makers have started to judge talent and success using this single yardstick and scoff at those who disagree. The 100 crorewallas really don’t care a damn what anybody thinks of their films. Most have taken to mocking movie critics who don’t gush over these crazily successful blockbusters. I have read interviews in which producers / directors sneer, “Who cares for critics?We pay zero attention to reviews and reviewers… we only look at the box office returns.” In such a complacent environment, there is no room for healthy debate, which is a pity. Given the profile of movie goers, there is ample space for all sorts of films… as the modest success of several indies has convincingly established. But so long as we only measure success using the 100 crore benchmark,we will be stuck with movies like ‘Ek Tha Tiger’ or ‘Bol Bachchan’ , which are fun,but certainly not brilliant on any level. Tiger is not Chulbul Pandey, and Ek Tha is not a patch on Dabbang. But its stupendous commercial success will be thrown in the face of anybody who displays a less than ecstatic response to the movie . The pressures on any ambitious film maker now is to aim for that 100 crore target – that’s it. And stars who have been a part of this 100 crore phenomenon are suddenly throwing attitude and jacking up their fees. Even if their performances have been lousy… and their roles, idiotic.

I watched Gangs of Wasseypur-2 inside a half empty hall at a multiplex. This was on a Saturday night. A few hours earlier, Mumbai had been ravaged by rioting mobs, and the atmosphere at the multiplex was tense. I attributed the thin attendance to the fear factor. There was a red alert in the city, and I had been advised by concerned friends to stay home. As the movie unfolded, I started to get goose bumps – the violence on the big screen was as grisly as the one Mumbai had endured a couple of hours earlier. An eerie case of life imitating art – or the other way around? I was totally riveted from the opening scene itself and found it difficult to breathe normally. Every aspect of the movie was powerfully dealt with – from the characterisation, dialogues, costumes, cinematography, music ( Oh! What music!) to the gory dance of death during the climax. Despite the bloodbaths that splatter across the screen at regular intervals, there was no gratuitous violence… and that’s preciselywhat made the film so chillingly real. As for Nawazuddin Siddiqui’s Faisal Khan , it is one screen role that will go on to define the genre. Much like Bhiku Mhatre or Langda Tyagi. Zeeshan Quadri as ‘Definite’ is an amazing find, and will go places really fast. But it is Huma Quereshi’s raw sexuality that sets the movie on fire. Huma makes most of our Bollywood’s 100 crore ladies look like insipid , sexless nannies. She is earthy, voluptuous and effortlessly gobbles up the screen. By any standards, GoW-2 is superb cinema. A must watch just to observe how seamlessly one gets drawn into the most terrible tale of revenge and retribution. But will it ever crack that 100 crore Club? Naah. And that ‘crime’ will be held against it while a pretty shallow Ek Tha… will keep the industry folks rocking till the next monster hit comes along at Diwali. If great movies were only about great destinations, would we need the ‘Discovery Channel’?

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An evening with The Boys....

That's a rather sweet family pic clicked by my daughter Arundhati, with Aditya, my son, taken at one of the most glamourous parties ever hosted in Mumbai.

The Boys launched their lush, extravagant 10 kilo tome at what qualifies as the MOST lavish book launch in India... and possibly, the world! As the weight of their combined genius was weighing me down ( my Abu-Sandeep saree must have weighed 7 kilos, minimum), I sensibly decided not to move from my seat. The beautifully designed book with its deliciously homo-erotic images of nearly nanga British male dancers , is absolutely exquisite. Yes, there are several gorgeous women featured in it , too. Alas, they don't stand a chance! The men are just tooooo beautiful. But it was only after carefully going through the monumental tribute celebrating 25 years of Abu-Sandeep, that I realised just how important their contribution has been in the still far-from-mature fashion industry in India.

The long evening at Antilia, started well.... and got progressively better. Nita Ambani, along with Amitabh Bachchan, were the knock out show stoppers.The fashion show featured some of our veteran models like Anna Bredmeyer and Noynika Chatterjee - both, class acts. But oh.... it was the divine, heady music that completely captivated me. I asked The Boys for it ... and voila! I now have it. It's a Sony Music CD, Classic Bollywood,Shaken not Stirred. By the Bartender. What a medley,,,, what a remix! Seductive all the way.... especially, the dreamy version of Khoya, Khoya Chand and Babuji Dheere Chalna. How clever of The Boys to pick silky nostalgia for their immortal garments. An inspired stroke of genius.

This is what I wrote for their book....

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Simply put: ‘The Boys’ are the best. There is a rare eloquence in all that they create, which is rare and unique. I use the word ‘eloquence’ and not ‘elegance’. Several designers in Indiacreate elegant garments. But only Abu-Sandeep manage to make their garments speak! Mind you, it really is the garments that do the talking… the wearer is merely the vehicle. When you are an Abu-Sandeep loyalist, you don’t have to say a thing! You merely float into the room for conversation to stop and the clothes to take over the rest of the communication! That’s how it has always been for this talented duo.

I can’t call myself an Abu-Sandeep loyalist, alas. But I do possess two outstanding examples of their work that bear ample testimony to their refined design sensibilities. Where does such inspiration come from? Can quiet, understated good taste be taught at a reputed international school of fashion? Does anyone really acquire such deep and abiding knowledge of craft skills going back centuries working in a Parisian atelier with a genius designer? Can a similar passion for all that is beautiful in the world be passed on by someone else? Impossible! Their aesthetic is distinctly their own. And one only has to recognize their immense talent for what it really is – a divine gift. ‘The Boys’ are blessed. Their art remains as ethereal and undiminished as it was when they began their fascinating voyage into the unknown, eccentric, egotistical world of fashion 25 years ago. How fortunate are they! And it is because of this precious gift that their label has seen the sort of appreciation only a few designers experience during their life time. The only reason why the two have been able to maintain their supremacy in the brittle and highly competitive world of couture, is because of their unshakeable self-belief and commitment to their art. It is indeed a sign of true confidence when senior designers like Abu- Sandeep refuse to go along with whatever is au courant or trendy, preferring to stick to their métier, and still succeed in holding their own, leaving panic attacks to lesser beings!

Their work is their meditation. It shows in the meticulous attention to detail that remains a hallmark of their label. Perfectionism always pays. Experts may spend hours deconstructing the Abu-Sandeep magic and analyzing their various ‘periods’ according to the cuts and craft skills they show- cased along the way. But the truth of the matter is more basic : Abu-Sandeep are timeless. I possess precisely two sarees designed by them, and I love both. I love them enough to be really, really possessive about them. Which means I deny access to my own daughters who otherwise have a free run of my wardrobe. I own some other equally wonderful sarees , but the Abu-Sandeeps remain special. One day, I shall pass them on to Anasuya Devi,my grand-daughter. Better still, maybe she will acquire her own sarees and kalidaar angarkhas painstakingly created by ‘The Boys’. Imagine that ! Three generations draped by Abu-Sandeep. Perhaps that really says it all!

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