Thursday, September 27, 2012

Of  Barfi  and  Khichdi...
Indians are the maestros of "Jugaad". It runs in their veins much like blood. I had my first confrontation with this omnipotent Indian phenomena when I was in tenth standard and after that there was no parting ways with it. What does "Jugaad" actually signify? It is an innovatively twisted way to get things done that is illegally legal and foolishly intelligent. While scams and corruption scandals are the most noteworthy children of "Jugaad", hardly any sphere of life, particularly Indian life, has remained untouched by this phenomena. You must be wondering how does the title of this post relate to what I've been saying in the past few lines? Perhaps the following paragraphs might lend you a perspective.

Barfi, Anurag Basu's smartest brainwave, India's official entry to Oscars and one of the finest movies that has touched the Indian silver screens is  reportedly being claimed to have morphed scenes from classic Hollywood flicks. I saw the movie last week with my mother. Surprisingly, I found her sleeping during the movie. I was irate and jolted her out of her nap so that she does not miss the sheer mastery with which Anurag and the actors had brought to life the entire plot of the movie. The unhampered playfulness of a mute Barfi, an Autistic Jhilmil wrapped in innocence, the unabashedness of an affluent girl Shruti, all tossed with those witty intelligent gags,left me awestruck. Though my mother had a second opinion. She complained that the movie had an unappealing and monotonous plot except for the gags. She was correct. The movie without those smart gags would bore you to death. And we least of all, did not expect those gags to be aped versions of some classic Hollywood flicks.

Though Barfi received an overwhelming response the controversies questioning its originality come as a shocker to the average Indian viewer. Indian cinema has always been known more for its volumes and less for its quality. We are the largest film producing nation but when it comes to substance movies we hardly have a handful of movies to our credit. Given all the dynamics, Barfi was being lauded as a welcome change in the stereotypical organisation of our entertainment industry. It was anticipated as a movie true to its genius where the characters would speak volumes through their work rather than their glam avatars. Though the actors did full justice to their roles, the fact of the scenes being morphed does no good to their efforts.

Directors like Anurag Basu are the torch bearers of the new face of the Indian Cinema. They have an inherent responsibility of breaking the norms that have impeded the quality evolution of the Indian cinema. Indians have somehow been programmed to believe that anything of exceptional quality and worth cannot be Indian. Thats what I thought when I saw the movie "Is this movie really a brainchild of an Indian?" Though I instantly criticized myself for being such a cynic, reports of Barfi scenes being morphed have proved my cynical self true. The reluctance to parent something original and the notion of western superiority has paralyzed the creative acumen of our budding artists.

I am completely of the opinion that replication is a medium that circulates creativity. Creativity cannot survive without being replicated but it is also true that replication should also result in multiplication i.e. creativity must get multiplied when replicated. It is a two way process. When you replicate someone's work you also inherit a responsibility of returning something significant in the process. It is high time that India has been on the receiving end. Its time we start giving back. Its time we see Bollywood movies being remade in Hollywood and not the vice versa. I would have been a much happier viewer if the amount of "Jugaad" and time that was invested in creating a Khichdi of the scenes in Barfi was utilized to fabricate a story that could have been worth copying by the Hollywood .


Sunday, June 3, 2012

The cherished cooler is back!

As I write this I so strongly feel as if I'm writing a missing chapter for Santosh Desai's book "Mother Pious Lady".

It is the nastiest part of the year in Delhi. The sweaty, sticky summers when the heat boils you and your body condenses all the steam and sizzle into drops that drip and slip all over it. So I bought a small portable cooler for my room.

Considering the enormous pace at which India's middle class is growing and breaching the levels that define the so called 'middle classness', coolers have reduced to symbols of austerity. It is still not odd to find coolers at homes, but one would mostly find them in the corners that are not ventured into frequently. The journey of coolers from the erstwhile middle class to the contemporary upper middle class is remarkable.

Now just rewind your life to some twelve years back, when the Air Conditioners were looked upon as luxuries of the affluent. Remember the fancy shopping bags that had "Fully air conditioned shop" printed in bold letters upon them? People would flock to the shops to enjoy that gentle and noiseless cooling of the air conditioners, especially because it was free. And the story did not end there. If at all, the stingy middle class woman (not man!) dared to purchase something from the air conditioned shop she would proudly flaunt it in her gossip circle for sometime. Not to forget, the shopping bag would be preserved for sure!

Coolers at that time were the messiahs for the middle class in summers. People who had a cooler in each room were envied. I still remember those summer vacations at home. We did not have a refrigerator at that time so my mother, being a housewife and having the 'jugaad' gene ingrained in her, made an innovative use of the cooler. She used it as a refrigerator! All the summer special delicacies: Flavoured milk, Custard, Mango shake were dearly preserved in that water brimming roof of the cooler. Amused and elated, I used to stare at those colourful glasses full of mango shake, resting royally in a pool of unusually cool water. Remember the odd sound of the pump? It was almost a burp-like sound, which gave me a feeling, that the cooler was mysteriously gulping all the preserved stuff on its roof.

Coolers gave a sense of belonging that was unmatched. My father used to return from his office on a scooter. Smelling of the much touted 'mehnat ka paseena' he would inadvertently sit infront of the cooler. Within minutes the lingering fragrance of the 'khas' consumed his fatigue and the smell of it. I fondly cherish the time, when I would sit infront of the cooler, just to let that gently furious gush of air, rush past my hair and wave them all over my face. At that time, I used to feel no less than the pretty silver screen actress, who was waiting for her prince charming on a picturesque breezy mountain; her hair swinging to and fro her face, much like the clouds that hover over a bright full moon.

Today the ACs have replaced coolers. While ACs are given VIP treatment, by making them adorn, only the bedrooms or the drawing rooms, coolers have reduced to guest house servants. Recall the scene from the movie 'Three Idiots' where Frahan's father proudly declares that only his son's room had an AC. AC is like the rich father who remains away from his children and thinks that his only duty is to help them financially. Cooler is the commoner who may not be rich and advanced but stays close to you and keeps talking to you (Virtually). A cooler is a humble employee, who would walk to its customers to serve them while AC is a sophisticated manager, who wont budge from his cabin and would rather ask his customers to walk to him. A cooler is a little kid, who troubles you by asking for water again and again while AC is a fully grown, expensive to maintain adult. So do you still see the charm in the classical coolers?

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Happy Rebirth-day Birthday Party!!

Perplexed reading those lines? Recently I got a chance to attend a kid’s Birthday Party and it was only then that I realized that Birthday parties have taken an absolutely new avatar.

The kids are no more those innocent little creatures who could be fooled with some silly magic tricks or scared with the famous “daadi waala baba” who would kidnap them if they tried disobeying their parents.

While my eyes were busy flirting with the cake adorning the table my ears just hopped to sneak into the kids’ conversation. “Hey I love your shoes...where did you get them from?” The girl though a bit confused carefully drafted her answer and replied “My mom got them from somewhere.” The other kid instantly reacted “I think they are from Reebok” to which the girl said “No they are not from Reebok, do you see a Reebok signature anywhere on my shoes? The boy was stupefied and so was I! Reebok…I came to know about the brand when I was in sixth grade and it took me another one year to recognize its signature and signatures of some other similar brands. And these kids who have just entered their first grade are almost living with these brands. Wow!! I have always detested the brand fad for robbing the innocents off their innocence.

I was still recuperating from my stupidity when snacks were announced and my stomach was almost jumping with joy though my brain was still feeling starved. Staying away from home it didn’t take me more than a moment to fancy the delicacies that would be treating my taste buds and my growling stomach. I could see the ‘ pooris’, the ‘chhole’ and the ever green ‘gulab jamun’ ornate my plate. That moment I was literally reduced to my childhood version who was impatiently waiting for the best part of the Birthday bash..the food! But what came on the plate was a punch on my greedy fancies. All I got was two slices of pizzas, a slice of garlic bread, cheese roll and french fries all ‘made in Pizza Hut’. The kids were flying with joy with those plates in front of them and I was abusing Pizza Hut. What happened to that traditional old menu of Birthday Parties? Why has Pizza replaced ‘Poorie’? Where did ‘Gulab Jamun’ go missing? I was frowning and it took me a while to

Somehow I contented myself with that ‘somewhat-like-food’ stuff. Now came the time when the kids were leaving but what was I seeing? Kids lined up right in front of the Birthday boy and the boy instead of looking intimidated was wearing a broad smile with a tint of pride . Slowly my eyes floated to a table adjacent to the Birthday boy. I saw a pile of lovely boxes each one having a label attached to it which was supposedly someone’s name. Oh! These are the return gifts and the boy is perhaps taking pride in giving away such quality return gifts to his friends. Birthday parties in my age never had any concept of return gifts. I silently regretted having missed out on an uncalculated number of gifts or more appropriately return gifts. The kids gracefully received the gifts and greeted good bye to the boy. The party had been officially concluded but since I was a family member I still had some more time.

So I ventured into a room that was full of Birthday presents. Boxes of all shapes and sizes wrapped up in shimmering colourful papers piled on top of each other. Once again I felt like a jealous child and I started guessing what all could the boxes contain. My birthday parties had extraordinarily predictable gifts. I could make out the gift without unwrapping it. Geometry cases, sketch pens, Tiffin boxes and at the best a set of a variety of colours. Either I was living with a bunch of misers or with a bunch of absolutely unimaginative people who could never think of good Birthday presents.Anyways I gave up my envy and asked the little one to unwrap his amazing gifts. So he called his dad and a mat was unrolled on the floor. A notebook and pen was summoned for and the presents were lined up on the mat. The child started tearing off the lovely papers and I asked him not to tear them but carefully unwrap them because as a child I used to preserve those beautiful gift wrapping papers. But the kid gave me an obnoxious look as if he was saying you used to do that because you never got gifts good enough to preserve so you quenched your thirst by preserving the papers but I am not under any such constraint. I instantly gave up.

As he continued unwrapping the gifts he continued commenting on them too. “I already have this game”; “Oh this game was on my list !”His dad carefully documented all the gifts and the names of the children who bought them. A part of me was still jealous of those gifts. After the gifts were all out the kid instantly stood up and asked for an iPad. Within seconds he was playing a game on that amazing piece of gadget. And once again I was stupefied.

The kids have changed, the age has changed and certainly Birthday parties have taken a Rebirth. So Happy Rebirth-Day Birthday Party!!!

Happy Rebirth-day Birthday Party!!

Perplexed reading those lines? Recently I got a chance to attend a kid’s Birthday Party and it was only then that I realized that Birthday parties have taken an absolutely new avatar.

The kids are no more those innocent little creatures who could be fooled with some silly magic tricks or scared with the famous “daadi waala baba” who would kidnap them if they tried disobeying their parents.

While my eyes were busy flirting with the cake adorning the table my ears just hopped to sneak into the kids’ conversation. “Hey I love your shoes...where did you get them from?” The girl though a bit confused carefully drafted her answer and replied “My mom got them from somewhere.” The other kid instantly reacted “I think they are from Reebok” to which the girl said “No they are not from Reebok, do you see a Reebok signature anywhere on my shoes? The boy was stupefied and so was I! Reebok…I came to know about the brand when I was in sixth grade and it took me another one year to recognize its signature and signatures of some other similar brands. And these kids who have just entered their first grade are almost living with these brands. Wow!! I have always detested the brand fad for robbing the innocents off their innocence.

I was still recuperating from my stupidity when snacks were announced and my stomach was almost jumping with joy though my brain was still feeling starved. Staying away from home it didn’t take me more than a moment to fancy the delicacies that would be treating my taste buds and my growling stomach. I could see the ‘ pooris’, the ‘chhole’ and the ever green ‘gulab jamun’ ornate my plate. That moment I was literally reduced to my childhood version who was impatiently waiting for the best part of the Birthday bash..the food! But what came on the plate was a punch on my greedy fancies. All I got was two slices of pizzas, a slice of garlic bread, cheese roll and french fries all ‘made in Pizza Hut’. The kids were flying with joy with those plates in front of them and I was abusing Pizza Hut. What happened to that traditional old menu of Birthday Parties? Why has Pizza replaced ‘Poorie’? Where did ‘Gulab Jamun’ go missing? I was frowning and it took me a while to

Somehow I contented myself with that ‘somewhat-like-food’ stuff. Now came the time when the kids were leaving but what was I seeing? Kids lined up right in front of the Birthday boy and the boy instead of looking intimidated was wearing a broad smile with a tint of pride . Slowly my eyes floated to a table adjacent to the Birthday boy. I saw a pile of lovely boxes each one having a label attached to it which was supposedly someone’s name. Oh! These are the return gifts and the boy is perhaps taking pride in giving away such quality return gifts to his friends. Birthday parties in my age never had any concept of return gifts. I silently regretted having missed out on an uncalculated number of gifts or more appropriately return gifts. The kids gracefully received the gifts and greeted good bye to the boy. The party had been officially concluded but since I was a family member I still had some more time.

So I ventured into a room that was full of Birthday presents. Boxes of all shapes and sizes wrapped up in shimmering colourful papers piled on top of each other. Once again I felt like a jealous child and I started guessing what all could the boxes contain. My birthday parties had extraordinarily predictable gifts. I could make out the gift without unwrapping it. Geometry cases, sketch pens, Tiffin boxes and at the best a set of a variety of colours. Either I was living with a bunch of misers or with a bunch of absolutely unimaginative people who could never think of good Birthday presents.Anyways I gave up my envy and asked the little one to unwrap his amazing gifts. So he called his dad and a mat was unrolled on the floor. A notebook and pen was summoned for and the presents were lined up on the mat. The child started tearing off the lovely papers and I asked him not to tear them but carefully unwrap them because as a child I used to preserve those beautiful gift wrapping papers. But the kid gave me an obnoxious look as if he was saying you used to do that because you never got gifts good enough to preserve so you quenched your thirst by preserving the papers but I am not under any such constraint. I instantly gave up.

As he continued unwrapping the gifts he continued commenting on them too. “I already have this game”; “Oh this game was on my list !”His dad carefully documented all the gifts and the names of the children who bought them. A part of me was still jealous of those gifts. After the gifts were all out the kid instantly stood up and asked for an iPad. Within seconds he was playing a game on that amazing piece of gadget. And once again I was stupefied.

The kids have changed, the age has changed and certainly Birthday parties have taken a Rebirth. So Happy Rebirth-Day Birthday Party!!!

Sunday, September 11, 2011

FROM MUMMA'S GIRL TO MEDIA GIRL



From a bachelor of engineering to an apprentice at NDTVmi,I had audaciously attempted to see myself beyond the usual me.Hailing from a small-town middle-class background,where careers are supposedly born in IT industries,brought up and nurtured in business administrations or are pleasantly married and settled with soft-cushioned "sarkari naukari",my bizarre decision sparked a series of mixed reactions.While some panned my decision by calling it ridiculous ,others saw sheer heroism in my pursuit of passion.

Cornering all my doubts and fears;i began my first week at NDTVmi.The ambience of the place was charismatic.While i was wondering about the symbolism underlying the red carpet elegantly draping the floor;for red is the colour of passion,Dr.Nigam entered and kicked off the formal introduction session.I must admit that the session blew me much like a hurricane that wipes out everything that blocks its way.The people around me were adorned with enormous caliber and indefatigable confidence.A sudden realization dawned upon me that I had committed a mistake;that I was at the wrong place.As the week progressed with interns pouring in to lend us an insight into the course ,I kept figuring out my place in that elite crowd .I was working hard to break the ice between my introvert self and my extrovert colleagues.Integral to the day were Dr.Nigam's sessions that had an overwhelming affluence of knowledge and intellect.There were times when I felt stupid but then his abstract concept of "its cool to be stupid" spelled magic for me.

My journey entered into the second week.Things were gradually falling into place.Roof-top breakfast served a delicious,fun-filled beginning to the hectic day ahead.Mr.Sumit Singhal took over the newspaper sessions .His looks indeed defy the very jolly character that he owns,although he turned out to be a pioneer of some very innovative punishments.During the second week I walked through the second floor and got a glimpse of those cabins which were actually the epicenters of creativity to me.I was enthralled by inexplicable feelings and boundless enthusiasm for I wanted to see myself working in one of those cabins one day! Later in the week JR visited and intoxicated the air with his magnificent baritone .Theater session had been the talk of the town since the beginning of the week .I thought about skipping the session for I had always been a stupid shy girl who had never stepped a podium to dance or even speak for a few seconds but I fought my inhibitions and turned up for theater .Although I could not match the levels set by my colleagues ;I had taken the first step towards ushering a change in myself.With many more weeks of exploration to come I hope that I'd rediscover and reshape the self inside me!

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

JAAG RAHE HAIN HUM!!!


Aankhon mein junoon dil mein sailaab liye
chal pade hum...
Saaf seerat ko surat dene
nikal pade hum...
Aaj ek ho gaye hain hum
jo kal tak the juda juda...
Sajda kar rahe hain wo
jo bane firte the humare khuda.
Humare pasine se
jinhone apni duniya chamkaai...
Humari mehnatein lootkar
jo badhate rahe apni kamai.
Aaj kyun hai bebas
garibon k is ANNAdata k aage?
Hazaare se hazaaron ko dekh
fir rahe bhage bhage!!!
Kabhi andaaza na tha unhein
ki hum ek ho jayenge...
Hum bhi na jaan paye ki ;
gandhi k naam pe jeene waale...
Unhi k usoolon se bair nibhayenge.
Shuru hui hai ab badlaav ki jung;
Jab tak chalega karvaan...
chalenge hum sang sang.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

~~God&Religion~~


God has summoned all the religions
Wh
y....its an unending list of reasons
He is agitated with his division into pieces
Humanit
y stands bruised,which religion preaches
Religion now faces the jur
y of Gods;
Humanit
y,its lawyer against all odds.

"Religion wh
y did u trigger ma division?"
Humanit
y said"God,selfishness is the new religion"
Have the people lost faith in religion and its values?
Said defense"The
y turned it into a mirror of their selfish virtues."
How could religion fail in uniting m
y children?
Said defense "The
y see enemies in their own brethren"

Did'nt religion preach that I can never be divided?
It did,but some evil souls left people misguided.
The
y used your manifestations and names
Sentiments turned hostile and the
y played games.
Now spoke religion"I was the path to u almight
y;
I struggled to teach ur children humanit
y and piety."

"I have been defeated and now I stand here,
I was God's
mirror to the people everywhere...
The human creed demonized m
y existence and me;
Turned me into the biggest hurdle to the path of Thee
.
God save the world from this hatred and acrimony
Enlighten
those lost in sin and blasphemy."

The jur
y is in deep shock and despair;
The dama
ge to the beings looks beyond repair
Religion
is not guilty and wont be punished
Selfishness in the name of religion has flourished

One da
y each sin would bear its consequence
Nothing but death and destruction would be the penance.