Mumbai--meri jaan!!!!

Of all the metros in India, the place where I feel most at home is in Mumbai. Being a diehard Kolkattan, I find remarkable similarities between the two cities. Of course, Kolkata does not have the financial clout or a comparable film industry. Neither does it have a seacoast Marine Drive or the multiple flyovers and skyscrapers. But below nestling beneath these imposing structures, there is a life and a spirit which is so similar.People live in abject poverty, but still make their living. They occupy every inch of space and start a shop--very much like here. India has the highest number of shops in the world!!! Cricket is a pastime like nowhere else, as it is here. And some of the hospitals are so similar, that it is difficult to find out where one is. Mumbai is a place where  theatre survives--as it does in Kolkata. And many a time people just get together to chat or browse a bookstore. One can get the right product that you want from dingy stores as you can here--and in spite of Raj Thackeray, it is a place where anybody can come and make a living, if you have the talent and determination--as you can do here in Kolkata. Almost every locality has a bakery outlet where you can have the most delicious pastries, and the roadside foodstalls sell the golgappas(called phuchka here), best devoured one after the other with a bent head, with a breath allowed after every ten pieces!!!!!

Mumbai has taught commercialism is possible without crudity. Kolkata portrays a unique perspective of the world via art and music. Both portray that life is hard but enjoyable, a struggle with definite rewards by the wayside, and that strangers could be friends and helped.

So when the terrorists attacked with their grenades, I felt the splinters in my heart. For something has changed irrevocably--the stranger now is not to be trusted , nor is to be helped. They knocked at the door of a shanty of a poor hospital worker (Thakur Budhabhai Waghela, 33, a sweeper employed at GT Hospital) and asked for a glass of water. After drinking it, they shot him. They swaggered into the VT station and shot at people who regarded them curiously. Old, young, men and women fell to their murderous bullets without knowing why. They ran into restaurants and fired indiscriminately at diners enjoying their day out. They fired into roadside crowds and passer byes and shop owners. The dead and injured were of all religions and nationalities--Hindus , Muslims, Christians, Jews, Parsees, Marathis and non Marathis. What type of religion, what type of mentality teach these people to be so cowardly? The answer is --none. Religion is used as a cover for obtaining power. Horror and outrage is used for destabilisation and creating a society bereft of trust---the vital step for destroying it.

While the knee jerk reaction is to blame Muslims for all this --(all the terrorists were of that religion), one has to remember that blaming all for the faults of a few is the easy and dangerous road. I have many Muslim friends, enlightened and good human beings who shrink a little bit at these outrages. Blaming a religion or punishing all of them blindly will only add to the increase of fundamentalism, and the downgrading of these voices of reason. The time has come for these voices to be heard more loudly and frequently and unequivocally. The flag bearers for peace and reason HAS to outshout the divisive forces and overwhelm them by their numbers. That is my plea to those Muslim friends. Now is the time to be strident and be heard. Your silence will destroy mankind and all the things that you and I have been taught to believe in. You will face the wrath of these cowards and may become their victims, but if you do not, you will be victims like Aziz, Haji, Amina and Sohail  lying dead in  St.George's Hospital anyway. The most important battle for justice has to be fought by you.

Tomorrow I will write about the terrorist methodology. Luckily teardrops do not smudge an electronic page for today, I will write no more--only  cry for Mumbai--meri jaan.

Yuvvraaj

The much hyped film by Subhas Ghai attracted about a 100 persons in the Sunday 2PM show at Inox Forum. And as usual with the INOX people selling us Rs 230 buck tickets even though the newspaper ads stated Rs 160 on Fri-Sun, the value for money quotient was negative.

There is a story line but that seems to be incidental. The focus is more on the locales, the stars, the props and sets, the music,the choreography---in short the look of the film, rather than the content. Subhas Ghai prides himself in being a showman, and he is unable and unwilling to shake off the tag. Everything has to be subservient to that. That is the biggest asset of the film and also its biggest shortcoming.

There are 3 brothers--Anil Kapoor the eldest by the first wife, and Salman and Zayeed by the second. Anil is autistic but a musical genius, which is uncovered in the middle of the story.He gets bashed up by bad boy Salman in childhood, resulting in Salman being banished to boarding school . Salman returns , and promptly bashes up Anil again, resulting in him being chucked out of home and inheritance. He carries a chip on his shoulder because of that and confesses he is a bad boy frequently. He breaks violins, gets angry, drives rashly,and is invariably late for rehearsals in an orchestra, where he is supposed to be a chorus boy, but they all wait for him to come, and then he sings the lead songs and is the centre of the dancing troupe---some chorus boy this!!! Salman plays himself, and brings his real life idiosyncrasies to his role which is tailor written for him. Katrina is sugary sweet, and a violinist in the same orchestra and is in love with Salman. Katrina's father is an eccentric Cardiac Surgeon(wonderful role by Boman Irani--so impressive with his timing and gestures), who hates Salman, and wants his daughter to (as usual) to marry a rich businessman's son.

Salman has to be a millionaire to marry Katrina, and his chance comes when his father dies. He dashes off to London, where he finds in the will read by Mithun Chakravarty(the family lawyer), that everything has been left to Anil Kapoor. The scheming Mamababu, his wife and children etc are all present as per the traditional Indian film plot. Salman and Zayed plot to get the money and become "Partners and not brothers".In the process, Katrina and her orchestra discover Anil Kapoor's sensational musical talent, and rope him in for their great show.

Salman and Zayed discover their brotherly love for Anil via 2 incidents. Anil takes the rap for Salman's rash driving--and the phoren police officers are surprised as to why anyone should do that. Salman says,"He is my brother. An Indian brother." Zayed loses his memberships to the clubs and then his girl, and then his car breaks down on a fascinating lonely Austrian road(in that order). His brothers rescue him , and naturally Indian brotherly love spills over. There is a murder plot, and after Salman's plea to Boman Irani, Anil Kapoor is saved, and Mithun ends it by saying "Sons may be independent, but they have to be United as a family."

Subhas Ghai has carefully kept it as THE FAMILY MOVIE. There are no exposures, no raunchy scenes, and the crudest word you here is "Frigging". The curses are "Monkey, Donkey, Flunky etc" "Now it is well done. Wait for it to be done-done". Unbelievable really!!! But then this an unbelievable movie. Thankfully there is no harping on  communal harmony, or patriotism, or car chases and fights or shootings.As Salman said, "It is a Suraj Barjatya story ,with David Dhavan Humour". A Subhas Ghai film is now only a compendium and not a pathbreaker. All the new film makers, and the recent cinema buffs must be gaping in disbelief that such an amount of money could be spent on such a film.

The film is technically sound. Kabir Lal 's cinematography is spectacular, though there was little scope for any innovative angles. The choreography were by different persons from Chinni Prakash to Shiamak Davar. The sets were opulent--(The Great Showman Complex). The music by A.R.Rahaman was breathtaking. With a full blown orchestra in the story, Rahaman lets his musical genius flow. Gulzar's lyrics are his best in recent years.If the songs had been placed in more realistic situations, we would have remembered the video clips. As of now only the music lingers on. The editing is safe--done by Ghai himself.  The script, also written by Ghai, sparkles in parts, but does not have the punch or surprises of greatness.

Yuvvraaj - 08 - Ma...

As for the actors, Salman virtually plays himself-inconsistent, short-tempered,friendly,and a "little crooked". Anil Kapoor does not have much to do, but does it professionally. Katrina has been photographed exceptionally well. Though she is unlikely to be a great actress, she will fit into these not-central roles so long as she retains her looks.

Zayed Khan had better retire from films. He is at best a third role actor, without a physique, looks or acting ability of a hero. The real attraction is Boman Irani. He takes a stereotyped role--and injects life and interest into it with his impeccable comedy timing and delivery.

It is a film unlike any released in recent times. It has come across as an archaic film 20 years later than it should have, struggling to come to terms with modern day lifestyles, with a dialogue and script that flashes in the pan, and leaves behind a great regret of what it could have been but didn't.

Definitely worth a watch only in single screen halls!!!!!!

Meanwhile listen to this hit.

Yuvvraaj-TuHiTohMe...

Gaya

I had to go to Gaya to do Pindadan for my late parents and aunt. We drove down on the magnificent NH2, before turning on to NH83 at Dobhi.We covered the 490 kms in 8 hours including an hour's break for refreshments.
Will describe the very interesting journey in more details later. Meanwhile try out this link below to see the photos.

Gaya

The Loner

In every circle, there is a fringe. In that fringe, there will always be somebody. He/she will be in that group, and yet not there. They will join in the conversation, and yet really not participate in it. And if they do, they will put forward some strange ideas which make people uncomfortable. You will often find them sitting alone. They are at ease with themselves, but not quite at ease with the world. They are not alone, or lonesome. They are certainly not  lonely. They are the loners.

Maybe it is the background they come from. They probably had long periods of being alone, where they developed their brand of thinking. They dealt with themselves, looked inwards--really deep inside--and settled on being themselves. They were obviously moulded by their parents, relatives, schools, colleges and companions. But more often than not--they moulded themselves. Edit, cut, copy, paste, insert.....

(Hillary)

Who then is a loner??

"This subculture that will never, by nature, join hands and whose voices will never, by nature, form a chorus. Some loners are neuroscientists and some are office cleaners. Some are sculptors and some are Survivor fans. Some are law students and some are surfers. No two loners are alike, but all of us have one thing in common: we like to be alone. We like it. Everyone else - nonloners, that is — can't stand to be alone. They squirm. They feel ashamed. They yearn for company when they're alone. They're bored and don't know what to do. They're lonely.
We're not.

Mainstream culture loves nonloners. Joiners, schmoozers, teamworkers, congregants and all those who play well with others scoop up the rewards.
Meanwhile, loners get dissed. All the time. At school, at work, at church or temple, in movies, loners are misunderstood, misjudged, loathed, pitied and feared".

This is from a book by Annelie Rufus called ,appropriately, "Party of One".

Sometimes there is a loner in the midst of plenty--flamboyant, exotic, sought after--and yet the loner. Listen to this song by Peter Sarstedt who never again could match this performance.

Peter Sarstedt - W...

And sometimes, there is a backpacker, an isolated sketcher, a rock climber or a simple parkbench sitter. This is the person Nillsson sang about. I loved Nillsson's singing. He lost the sharpness with age, and then he died relatively young--but he sang of things we thought about but could never quite articulate.

Nilsson - Everybod...

Probably many of us are loners too...........

Bhai Phonta

The Bengali loves Bhai Phonta. Ostensibly, it is an occasion where the sister gives a "phonta" ( a chandan or sandalwood paste circular fingertip impression) on the forehead of the brother, and blesses him with grass seeds, so that the Yama(harbinger of death and evil) is kept at bay.

This is followed by food (there is hardly any Bengali function without food at the end!!)--mainly sweets and a lunch or dinner at home or outside.So two days after Kali Puja or Diwali, brothers dressed in finery land up at the sister's house to do the needful.

 

This festival somehow replenishes the Sibling relationships. It revives memories of a childhood spent together, schoolbooks, Enid Blyton, games on the rooftop, secretly shared achar and potato chops, confidences, parental policies and their unfairness, and later on for advice, assurance and a place to go to where you can stop playing roles.

The empathy, understanding,communication never wanes. There may be bouts of misunderstanding, of sentiments not really appreciated, prolonged absences--but picking up the threads are as easy as always.

Common memories are recalled, specially of parents who have departed, of relatives no more with us. The weddings, the birthdays, the trips, the escapades, the simple pleasures of life relived and recreated for a magical day, at least.

Bhai Phonta is special to all sisters and brothers. So it was also, this time.

Amar Vitor Bahire ...