As we approach another Republic Day, mouthing platitudes about our strong & vibrant democracy, it is depressing to be reminded of the depths our polity has actually plunged to. This latest realization is courtesy two news items in the Indian Express of 24th Jan09, which hit me right in the morning.
The first was about a sweetshop owner in Thane, who has been threatened by the goons of MNS to change the 60 year old shop’s name from “Karachi Sweets”, objecting to the use of a Pakistani city’s name. It would be really hilarious, had it not been so terrifyingly true.
More than the outlandish threat, the unfortunate part is the alacrity with which the owners have gone ahead and already renamed their shop as Jai Shree Krishna Sweets. Is it not shameful that the all-powerful state can not guarantee protection to an innocent person against a madman or two and their bunch of thugs? Surely, a glowing tribute to the Fundamental Rights enshrined in our constitution!
This is neither the first nor an isolated incident, we all know. This outfit (and others of its clan) have been working at it for quite some time now – playing with emotions of vulnerable people, and dividing & pitting them against each other by raking up non-existent issues, in process consolidating their own goonda power.
I really do not understand why the government of the day hesitates to take strict action against such a vulgar mockery of the rule of law.
The second relates to the queen of megalomaniacs Mayawati.
I am given to understand vide a report that a whopping 90% of the UP’s culture budget of this year has been spent on making sculptures, most of them of Madam Mayawati herself.
Notwithstanding all the talk of her being the symbol of Dalit empowerment, does no body of her followers see through this act and realize that this is just part-narcissism, part-get-filthy-rich obsession? How can she fleece her own people of their hard-earned money on these monstrosities which do nothing except feed her own ego? Another Imelda Marcos in the making, is she?
But I remain hopeful. Surely, वो सुबह कभी तो आएगी! Happy Republic Day!!
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Overdose Obama
This morning, you could have been pardoned for thinking you were in America, going by the all-out coverage of Obama's inauguration in the Indian media. (btw, just how does a person gets "inaugurated", I do not understand. Birth - yes; death - maybe yes; but inauguration? Wasn't it something to do with events or buildings or some such life-like objects?) . A clear case of overdose, considering even our own president election did not get this type of coverage.
Me and good friend Kay were discussing why is this happening; why even newspapers with usually balanced perspectives (like Indian Express) featured this event so out of proportion, and we decided it was because of two reasons.
First, the world, and India more so, is desperately in need of charismatic heroes today. And, Obama is, no doubt, one of the most charismatic public figures on the present world stage. His leadership skills and effectiveness remain to be seen, but charisma, he has loads of, and using his remarkable oratorial skills, he has managed to project himself as a beacon of hope in these troubled times. (It of course helps that America's mighty marketing machine is at work here).
Second, like it or not, America does remain the sole super-power, the चौधरी of the global village, who controls most of the economy and decides the pecking order of the world.
But at the end of it, we should not mind it, as long as it is followed by real performance and results, which we look forward to.
Me and good friend Kay were discussing why is this happening; why even newspapers with usually balanced perspectives (like Indian Express) featured this event so out of proportion, and we decided it was because of two reasons.
First, the world, and India more so, is desperately in need of charismatic heroes today. And, Obama is, no doubt, one of the most charismatic public figures on the present world stage. His leadership skills and effectiveness remain to be seen, but charisma, he has loads of, and using his remarkable oratorial skills, he has managed to project himself as a beacon of hope in these troubled times. (It of course helps that America's mighty marketing machine is at work here).
Second, like it or not, America does remain the sole super-power, the चौधरी of the global village, who controls most of the economy and decides the pecking order of the world.
But at the end of it, we should not mind it, as long as it is followed by real performance and results, which we look forward to.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Ghazini
Till about a couple of months back, I thought Ghazini to be a period drama about the (in)famous Mahmud of Ghazni. After watching it yesterday, I now wish it was. At least it would have been some novelty to watch.
Ghazini has been a letdown, and I am frankly surprised at the claims of the record business it has already reaped in.
The concept and story surely have an immense potential to be turned in to a great psychological thriller.
However, owing to a totally un-imaginative treatment, the film remains throughout a prisoner to only brute, physical action, in spite of having an actor like Aamir Khan.
The psychological and mental warfare by the character of Aamir, which could have been the mainstay of the film, is touched upon only tentatively and that too only at the fringes. Murugadoss was probably cautious not to let the film become too obtuse for the masses.
Aamir is his usual perfect self in most of the movie but in some of the scenes, where he is required to scream and generally show his angst, he surprisingly goes overboard. Asin is tacky and school-girlish (except for her final scene) and Ghazini probably needed somebody more sinister to justify the title character.
Take Aamir and the two main songs out and there would be nothing left in it to distinguish it from your run-of-the-mill action films.
All in all, a letdown.
Different takes, any one?
Ghazini has been a letdown, and I am frankly surprised at the claims of the record business it has already reaped in.
The concept and story surely have an immense potential to be turned in to a great psychological thriller.
However, owing to a totally un-imaginative treatment, the film remains throughout a prisoner to only brute, physical action, in spite of having an actor like Aamir Khan.
The psychological and mental warfare by the character of Aamir, which could have been the mainstay of the film, is touched upon only tentatively and that too only at the fringes. Murugadoss was probably cautious not to let the film become too obtuse for the masses.
Aamir is his usual perfect self in most of the movie but in some of the scenes, where he is required to scream and generally show his angst, he surprisingly goes overboard. Asin is tacky and school-girlish (except for her final scene) and Ghazini probably needed somebody more sinister to justify the title character.
Take Aamir and the two main songs out and there would be nothing left in it to distinguish it from your run-of-the-mill action films.
All in all, a letdown.
Different takes, any one?
Thursday, January 15, 2009
जाड़ा
I was rummaging through my old papers a couple of days back, when I came across one I wrote in December 1991. It is about winters, seen from three different perspectives.। I thought it might be relevant to share it with you now, while the famous "Dilli ki sardi"is here:
एक
जाड़ा
सिमटा सिमटा, सकपकाया सा,
घूमता बाहर कोठी के दालान में,
एयर-कंडीशनरों से, और शनील की रजाइयों से बचता बचाता,
शाम को इम्पोर्टेड व्हिस्की से लड़ने को प्रत्यनरत
खिड़कियों में ही अटका,
अन्दर आ पाने को बे-चैन यहाँ पर जाड़ा!
दो
जाड़ा
खुशनुमा
सुनाई पड़ता मूंग-फली के टूटे छिलकों में,
चिपटा गुढ की पापडी में,
पसरा हुआ आँगन ही की धुप ही के साथ
दादी माँ के चश्में में मुंह चिडाता,
शाम को, रसोई के अलाव के बाहर,
चाय के कप पर
भाप का बादल बन कर
उड़ता सा आ जाता है, जाड़ा
तीन
जाड़ा,
भयावह
ठंडी सड़कों पर पड़ा गुर्राता,
और कातर, नंगी एडियों को नोचता, खसोटता,
झपट पड़ता, पागल कुत्ते सा,
टूटे दरवाजे से, खिड़की की झिर्री से,
पैबंद लगे कपडों से आकर
नंगे, भूखे शरीरों को नोच खाता हैं
जाड़ा
I invite your comments.
एक
जाड़ा
सिमटा सिमटा, सकपकाया सा,
घूमता बाहर कोठी के दालान में,
एयर-कंडीशनरों से, और शनील की रजाइयों से बचता बचाता,
शाम को इम्पोर्टेड व्हिस्की से लड़ने को प्रत्यनरत
खिड़कियों में ही अटका,
अन्दर आ पाने को बे-चैन यहाँ पर जाड़ा!
दो
जाड़ा
खुशनुमा
सुनाई पड़ता मूंग-फली के टूटे छिलकों में,
चिपटा गुढ की पापडी में,
पसरा हुआ आँगन ही की धुप ही के साथ
दादी माँ के चश्में में मुंह चिडाता,
शाम को, रसोई के अलाव के बाहर,
चाय के कप पर
भाप का बादल बन कर
उड़ता सा आ जाता है, जाड़ा
तीन
जाड़ा,
भयावह
ठंडी सड़कों पर पड़ा गुर्राता,
और कातर, नंगी एडियों को नोचता, खसोटता,
झपट पड़ता, पागल कुत्ते सा,
टूटे दरवाजे से, खिड़की की झिर्री से,
पैबंद लगे कपडों से आकर
नंगे, भूखे शरीरों को नोच खाता हैं
जाड़ा
I invite your comments.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Slumdog fraternity
The alacrity with which our media and Bollywood have come out to embrace “Slumdog Millionaire” as one of their own, after it has won four Golden Globe awards, somewhat irritates me.
No, I have nothing against the film. In fact, I have not even watched it. And from what I hear and see about it, I would surely not be disappointed once I do (although the book by Vikas Swarup was hopeless, as one of my friends insists).
The film is said to boast of superb direction by Danny Boyle, a fabulous musical score by AR Rahman (congratulations for the award!) and some very decent acting by Irrfan, Anil Kapoor, Dev Patel and others. All great individual efforts worthy of applause.
But it has to be clearly understood that the Indian connection and context, over which our media is going gaga, is purely incidental.
A film is essentially a director’s medium, his vision which unfolds on to the screen. I am sure that the story telling abilities of a director of the caliber of Danny Boyle is not limited by the locale or the back-drop, and it is entirely to his credit that he has utilized the Indian backdrop so effectively.
Notwithstanding, therefore, the well-deserved praise for the craft of this film (I presume), it would do well for us not to rush in to falsely appropriate claims which are not due to us, like we did with Kalpana Chawla, Bobby Jindal etc. We surely have enough other genuinely Indian things to be proud of.
No, I have nothing against the film. In fact, I have not even watched it. And from what I hear and see about it, I would surely not be disappointed once I do (although the book by Vikas Swarup was hopeless, as one of my friends insists).
The film is said to boast of superb direction by Danny Boyle, a fabulous musical score by AR Rahman (congratulations for the award!) and some very decent acting by Irrfan, Anil Kapoor, Dev Patel and others. All great individual efforts worthy of applause.
But it has to be clearly understood that the Indian connection and context, over which our media is going gaga, is purely incidental.
A film is essentially a director’s medium, his vision which unfolds on to the screen. I am sure that the story telling abilities of a director of the caliber of Danny Boyle is not limited by the locale or the back-drop, and it is entirely to his credit that he has utilized the Indian backdrop so effectively.
Notwithstanding, therefore, the well-deserved praise for the craft of this film (I presume), it would do well for us not to rush in to falsely appropriate claims which are not due to us, like we did with Kalpana Chawla, Bobby Jindal etc. We surely have enough other genuinely Indian things to be proud of.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Outlook Jan19, 09
Let's start the year with a heavy dose of self-publicity.
The Jan 19 issue of Outlook - first of this year - carries 2 letters of mine, which I wish to share with you:
The first one is on the article Arundhati Roy wrote after the Mumbai terror attacks:
Arundhati is clearly very rattled by the Mumbai attacks. Her prose, usually so lucid and a treat to read whether or not you agree with her, is this time rambling and repetitive. Along with the form, the function too suffers from a complete lack of new insight. Instead, she has once again propped up her all-time favourite villains—Gujarat genocide, "atrocities" in Kashmir, Hindutva, powerful and sinister politicians et al, which have supposedly led to this (almost justified!) retribution from the Muslims of the world. This is a tad too over the top. Notwithstanding the "decades of quick-fixes and dirty deeds", these terrorists were no disgruntled Indian Muslims whereby these attacks could be explained in the above context. I wouldn’t even term them as Pakistanis. People like them are above nationalities, owing allegiance only to their own pure hatred and warped mindsets, global citizens of the Terror Republic.
The second one is a response to the Happiness Prescription in an earlier issue:
I noted sadly that the list of books prescribed for happiness (Rev Up Your H Quotient) included not a single book in Hindi. Maybe it needed Manjula Padmanabhan, the selector, to be a more pan-Indian author to include gems like Raag Darbari (Shrilal Shukla) and a collection of essays by the great Harishankar Parsai.
R.G., on e-mail
Did they use my initials to convey that we were two different readers writing in?
The Jan 19 issue of Outlook - first of this year - carries 2 letters of mine, which I wish to share with you:
The first one is on the article Arundhati Roy wrote after the Mumbai terror attacks:
Arundhati is clearly very rattled by the Mumbai attacks. Her prose, usually so lucid and a treat to read whether or not you agree with her, is this time rambling and repetitive. Along with the form, the function too suffers from a complete lack of new insight. Instead, she has once again propped up her all-time favourite villains—Gujarat genocide, "atrocities" in Kashmir, Hindutva, powerful and sinister politicians et al, which have supposedly led to this (almost justified!) retribution from the Muslims of the world. This is a tad too over the top. Notwithstanding the "decades of quick-fixes and dirty deeds", these terrorists were no disgruntled Indian Muslims whereby these attacks could be explained in the above context. I wouldn’t even term them as Pakistanis. People like them are above nationalities, owing allegiance only to their own pure hatred and warped mindsets, global citizens of the Terror Republic.
The second one is a response to the Happiness Prescription in an earlier issue:
I noted sadly that the list of books prescribed for happiness (Rev Up Your H Quotient) included not a single book in Hindi. Maybe it needed Manjula Padmanabhan, the selector, to be a more pan-Indian author to include gems like Raag Darbari (Shrilal Shukla) and a collection of essays by the great Harishankar Parsai.
R.G., on e-mail
Did they use my initials to convey that we were two different readers writing in?
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Saal Mubarak
Till late last night, when the year 2008 was inching towards its end, overwhelming despondency was what I felt, I would admit.
What else could one could expect, I consoled myself, when all around we had seen some of the most troubling moments served by fate & nature all the year round – financial meltdown, Bihar floods, temple stampedes, communal & regional riots, along with some murders and rapes thrown in for good measure.
Moments of joy like Abhinav Bindra’s gold medal, N-deal’s passage and Rock On were few and far in between. And, at the end, when it seemed nothing worse could happen, Mumbai was attacked brazenly, the shadow of which loomed high.
I, along with few friends (wife & son were away), tried to shake off this shroud of gloom, gyrating over rustic beats of “Oye Lucky” and “Singh is King” around a small bonfire but in the end, went to sleep as depressed as ever, after exchanging lukewarm wishes of Happy New Year.
This morning, however, as I stepped out, it was a warm & bright sunshine which greeted me, and the gloom of last night suddenly evaporated.
I pride myself on not being a romantic but the sight of beautiful bouqets and a contented, happy smile from the flower-vendor was all it took to instantly fill me up with hope and cheer again.
I now feel strangely comforted and confident of myself. I also wish that each one of us is able to put down one’s demons firmly down, to have a really Happy, Peaceful, Prosperous Year 2009!
Cheers
What else could one could expect, I consoled myself, when all around we had seen some of the most troubling moments served by fate & nature all the year round – financial meltdown, Bihar floods, temple stampedes, communal & regional riots, along with some murders and rapes thrown in for good measure.
Moments of joy like Abhinav Bindra’s gold medal, N-deal’s passage and Rock On were few and far in between. And, at the end, when it seemed nothing worse could happen, Mumbai was attacked brazenly, the shadow of which loomed high.
I, along with few friends (wife & son were away), tried to shake off this shroud of gloom, gyrating over rustic beats of “Oye Lucky” and “Singh is King” around a small bonfire but in the end, went to sleep as depressed as ever, after exchanging lukewarm wishes of Happy New Year.
This morning, however, as I stepped out, it was a warm & bright sunshine which greeted me, and the gloom of last night suddenly evaporated.
I pride myself on not being a romantic but the sight of beautiful bouqets and a contented, happy smile from the flower-vendor was all it took to instantly fill me up with hope and cheer again.
I now feel strangely comforted and confident of myself. I also wish that each one of us is able to put down one’s demons firmly down, to have a really Happy, Peaceful, Prosperous Year 2009!
Cheers
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