Showing posts with label Sarcasm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sarcasm. Show all posts

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Salaam Bombay Mumbai!



Remember?As kids how we came to believe the story of a stork coming down at midnight and dropping in our little sister next to our Mom ? Well, remember the time when you have already been educated about the human angle in the process from the porn mags brought by the year down student at school, and later have this inconvenient moment of seeing a really agonized woman doing a labor scene in some DD1 movie along with your family? Years later,Remember the time when you yourself (The unsung sexologist of your college by then ) impart the same wisdom to your kid cousin in the hospital and share a smile with the refined, sensible adult community in the warmth of a shared secret? And the story goes on!

Pretence!

See, lemme be clear on my stand. I have no objection to kids being told the stork story rather than what-goes-where-to-make-a-baby thing , but with passing years isn’t someday the right day to clarify stuff around the dining table? Do we allow our kids to learn about the basic starting points of their lives from porn movies/Penthouse mags/gossip-Aunty columns/out of syllabus biology chapters? Excuse me , but I wouldn’t fancy my 15 year old to believe his “virgin” dad to be waiting for the stork to do the act, the second time! A sissy ,impotent tale that would sound like for a todays grown up adult of fifteen.

What is it about pretence that we Indians are so ga-ga about? Look at the news we make.
Take for instance the Beijing Olympic Games soon to be and the torch relay preceding it that made such a flash. The torch for the worlds most participated event marched from San Francisco to London to Rome and other major cities amidst lonely police cordoned roads away from the masses, wihtout the very spirit of participation and feeling of oneness to be generated from the run . As it was about to enter India, the whole world waited with baited breath about whether India, the country that has given the Tibet issue and its leader The Dalai Lama so much currency in the world today, would let/let not allow the spirited torch to pass through the Delhi leg of the worldwide journey! I personally thought, the Government of India would at least take a stand for Tibet. But,alas! Leave right, leave wrong,,The Government of India decided to go trendy! Came quick the popular sounding official reply, ”Lets not mix sports with politics”. And since the know-it-all Aamir Khan decided to endorse this view of the GOI, we thought, Jesus Christ, they are damn correct. I said to myself, Aha?Since when?. As was pointed out by a famous commentator , Wasn’t India one of the prime movers of the boycott that kept South Africa (in the apartheid era) from participating in the Olympics. It was largely because of us that the South Africans became pariahs in the cricket world. We ran a similar campaign to exclude Rhodesia (the country that later became Zimbabwe). And till the mid-1980s, we had no sporting links with Israel. And with the upcoming Commonwealth games due in Delhi in 2010, why shouldnt India pretend to play the good piper with China now lest it brings down bloody human rights reports from Amnesty International about Indian forces’ repressions in Kashmir and call for a pullout of the 2010 games. And talk of mixing sports with politics? We are toasting on this very cocktail in world polity for years now! Just that this time around I wanna send a greeting card to the Dalai Lama saying, “I am Sorry, on their behalf". This one was a nice chap.Oh Boy! He is.

Pretence!

While the world watched with hysteria the amount of frenzy generated with the torch relay run in Delhi, one family was busy playing games in its own backyard. The only true family, as it claims, that stands for the common Marathi Manoos, the Thackerays! A monarchial family with a huge misled fanbase fighting against an entirely weaponless and poor army of UP-MP bhaiyyas sounds less than half as exciting as an Ekta Kapoor soap.! And we blame the poor lady for making run Kyonki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu thi for almost nearing a decade, when we happily switch on television sets and watch riots live conducted by the goondas of Thackeray family for over 40 years now? We are a damn pretentious society with impotent people in it that ways(Makes me believe the stork story sometimes, even as an adult).We just let things happen, as long as its happening to someone else, and as far as it makes good TV.

Or what else explains such ridiculous claims of the Thackeray family, and our silent acknowledgement of them down the years. One such Thackeray classic has been laid down here for your inconvenience.
They claim:
1.Any entity using “Bombay “ as its name should change to “Mumbai” with immediate effect.
2.Mumbai is for the Marathis , and anyone else laying any small claim even to it will be shown the door outright.

Now, the argument used by the Thackerays is that, “Mumbai” (derived as a tribute to the local deity here, Moomba Devi!) is the original name of the fishing village that used to exist near the present day city. And that the word “Bombay” is the corrupted version brought to usage by the British whose usage hurts the larger Marathi spirit of the Thackeray family along with the millions native. Fine. Point noted and taken. If “Calcutta” can be “Kolkata”, if “Madras” be “Chennai”, “Bangalore” be “Bengalooru”, why not Bombay? But my problem was with the clause “with immediate effect”. First of all, the present Bombay is no longer a fishing community village anymore, its bloody the most showcased city in India today . It has developed its own psyche, magic, character and personality under the name “Bombay” for centuries now. To unlearn that and start living with a different name, it is but obvious, a slow process in time. But no, the Thackerays’ instead with their do-it-today or else, we will come to you threats, tried to change all those decade/centuries long establishments /institutes/shops from “Bombay” to “Mumbai” overnight. The ones that failed to comply with their deadlines immediately , had to face wreckage, goondagardi,loss of property and lives and a lot of nonsense.

Cmon Mr. Thackeray.Ceylon became Sri Lanka,Persia became Iran but we still listen to “Ceylon Radio”, or pay a fortune to buy an exquisite Persian rug. No one refers to Sri Lanka as Ceylon or Iran as Persia anymore, but it did take its own time in history .So just give it a thought, if “Bombay Dyeing” be made “Mumbai Dyeing” overnight would it feel the same with those linens ? Change is a little more complex than a 2 minute noodle!

And to the second claim that Mumbai is for the Marathis, I have one question and one response to you on your stand. The question being, Okay fine as you say, Mumbai is for the Marathis, but , is Mumbai essentially, "by" the Marathis? And my response to your entire stand is a simple, WTF! ( A silent disclaimer here, i live with a beautiful Marathi family atPune and here i have come to know how peaceloving and graceful a society Marathis actually are!!)
And if nothing works out sane , I have this question for you which a reader of HT fabulously wrote in one of her articles sometime back,
“If he’s so keen on Marathi usage, then he should use his real name. It’s Thakre not Thackeray, in the manner of William Makepeace Thackeray, the author of Vanity Fair. Not only does Thackeray use the anglicised spelling, he even pronounces it like the English author, who, as far as I know, was not a Marathi manoos.”

You are all 86 years young now and I don’t wonder if you have an erring son and a rebellious nephew at home who just simply don’t listen to you. I am saying it now, and Madonna did it long back," Papa dont preach"!

So guys you see, pretence is growing up to be one unifying cult in our national psyche.We dont mind paying our hard owned blings to MPs to discuss cheergirls and their impact on our moral fabric in our parliament but let an important nuclear deal die a cold death due to lack of consensus to even bring it to table. We call ourselves a democracy, dont we? Even US calls itself one. Look at the rigorous US presidential candidature process going on there and think of ours( Do we even have one?). Primary after primary, region after region,Obama and Clinton had to munch words, spin dreams, win millions of hearts, prove their worth to be capable of serving their own people.That is what sounds like a democracy. And here in India, remember the last time a party started on their campaign with someone as their prime ministerial candidature??? That was Rajiv Gandhi in 1984. And none later.After that we even had human beings like Deve Gowda, I P Gujral,V P Singh etc. in our "operational" highest post. And now we are currently toasting over putting a woman up there in Rashtrapati Bhavan and bridging our sexist gaps. But not to be unfair to Honourable Pratibha Patil, i would anyday put all my money and borrow some more on Hillary Clinton for being the first woman in the American history to push all frontiers and win a whopping 1900 + primaries in an all male domain of cowboy-mafiaso politics. Woman equality? Picture that. Our version ?A Karan Johar movie.


Pretence again!!

Barry Humphries once said “New Zealand is a country of thirty thousand million sheep, three million of whom think they are human.”

India, fits in there, just as fine. Jai Hind!

Pretence!











Tuesday, December 18, 2007

I watched Saawariya!




The biggest problem with Saawariya-the movie is the cardinal sin any film maker can make-- the timing of its release.If you are not a film critic who gets his paisa for the Sunday review or one who thinks,since its a Bhansali movie, i would love it anyways,there is no reason as to why one should go to the movie with a Diwali hain ,movie chalo mood! With Shahrukh Khan romancing the six feet sexy siren with daughterly genuineness janam after janam on the next screen who would want to spend three hours and a hundred fifty bucks on a world awash with blue- green light, shot in a city which consists of only two lovers and a few prostitutes,with sequences of uncoreographed pelvic thrusts of the naked hero brushing soft cotton towels against tender bottoms , with people jumping idhar udhar crossing symmetric potholes in gay abandon, and shot in a set which is so timeless, seasonless, dayless and of course lifeless!!

The movie, which is loosely based on the Russian writer Fyodor Dostoyevsky's 1848 story,"White Nights" and is the first Sony venture into Bollywood,opens up with a scene with a where-on-earth-is-this-city strung with a Rani Mukherjee narration about a rockstar farishta, her Saawariya. No brownie points for guessing him to be the new kid on the block played by the Raj Kapoor synthetic look alike,his very own grandson,Ranbir Kapoor!Uncannily named Raj in the movie as well, Ranbir Kapoor plays the ichak daana bichak daana innocent guy who goes into a bar asking for milk (Kareena Kapoor is not the only dumbass amongst the Kapoors i swear!) wherein he stumbles upon Gulab, the overpowering,melodramatic prostitute played by Rani Mukherjee,(perfecting her mega pimp act after the recently released Laga Chunari Mein Daag) who drinks angrezi sharaab, intersperses her words with fake plural goofups, and who recycles the tawaifo ka bhi dil hota hain feeling of Chandramukhi quite frequently quite irrelevantly, in short, the usual Bhansali prostitute!


You have hardly popped your tenth popcorn and up comes the title track of the movie "Saawariya". Its Nice, but not necessary. Hardly is it over when it plays another forgetfull song with a pack of prostitutes and the hero who sleeps on a ball coz he doesnt have a pillow, believe it?A melange of activities follow next.He plays Peter Pan to the whole neighbourhood of Gulab and her pimp friends, an old martinet played by Zohra Sehgal, Raj himself and, well, the chaataawaali heroine, Sakina played by the demure Sonam Kapoor .Prince meets princess over a four feet five inches bridge built over a five feet long canal meant only for the transportation of unspoken feelings by dumb lovers.Russian crap has it that Raj discovers soon ki Sakeena loves some stranger by the name Imaan, a really forgettable role in the movie played by a kohl eyed Salman Khan.Fish!!(I wouldnt have been amazed if he had declined this role for even a Rupa Baniyaan ad!) And night after night( were there any days in the movie btw?)repeated scenes of Sakeena waiting for Imaan to return while Raj, playing the asexual good friend cum second man in her life wanting Imaan not to return makes the audience more desperate than the both of them for this wait to end!! In the end, Imaan comes,reaps his no investment dividends and Raj loses both the women in his life.The end. Name casting. And finissss..


So this was it. Or , was this it??? I think if you ask me now, Did i like the movie. I would say with a silent purr, Probably Yess! And here it is why..

First, when you go to watch a Sanjay Leela Bhansali movie, you go to watch the flamboyant director in action.Just look at it man what he has made the new kids act like. Ranbir has such flashes of brilliance that shook the ground beneath my feet at times. His uncoreographed madness movements, his expressions that have been crafted especially in the last scenes to show the dilemma in this character reminds one of the famous Raj Kapoor and his frames! Sonam Kapoor again is such a fresh breath of air in the movie. She is meant to look demure, virginal and that she does it to neat perfection.A little work could have been done on her speech but think of it, she is just a debutante and remember what debutantes once used to be, the moustached eyebrowed Karishma Kapoor or the deep freezed modellish Aishwarya of yesteryears? So chill.Rani Mukherjee and Zohra Sehgal to me are the acting pinnacles of this movie while Salman Khan better be unspoken about.(All that i can say is the topless expose king might be all jealous about the bottomless Ranbir Kapoor naa?:)


Coming to the ideological centre of the movie , though it looked like a clone treatment of Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam with an opposite ending , I liked the concept of love as portrayed through the character of Raj, the innocent maverick lover who cares not for yesterdays and tomorrows, but just the full fructification of each moment spent with his love because somewhere in his mind he knows,his story wont last a lifetime , it just spans across moments to moments. Just single ones. . Each moment carries with it an urgency to bare his soul for the last possible time perhaps. Sakina's character is so very selfish if you look at it that way..She loved Imaan, yet she started loving Raj.She waited for Imaan, yet she almost gave up near the end. What are feelings if you give them up in the rough weather?What if Imaan hadnt come? Wouldnt she had gone ahead with Raj and lived happily ever after? Either ways she knew to complete her own story.A chaalu sweet woman she is.Makes me wonder whether her life actually had a story or was it always a mere compromise with the nearest best thing available at hand?The character of Sakina is one of the most coyly treated treacherous characters of recent Hindi cinema.Its she, and not Gulab who emerges out as the actual pimp in the story.

And it is with such a pint of chagrin and a soulful instrumental symphony at the backdrop that the movie was coming to an end. As the cherubic Raj traces his way back in memories' corridors, through the same symmetric potholes,alone this time ,in the same flowery frescos of the city, Gulab ends the story as mesmerisingly in her voice as Dostoyevsky does in his actual tale of love and longing when his protagonist looks up to the raining sky and asks the clouds above,

"Isnt such a moment sufficient for the whole of a man's life?"