New sights, new soul?

Well, the annual trip to Calcutta is done and dusted. And while any trip home is always too short, this one was a bit different. Till last year, I still could evidence the romanticism of the city of old. Its values, its middle-class vibe and laid back soul was easy to seek out and see. However, this time around, the difference was palpable. I'll tell you what I mean in a minute. The fact that I was on a schedule from hell didn't help either. Hardly had any time to wander the narrow 'para' streets to really feel at home...
Well, the city seemed to be on the move. No doubts about that at all. There is new found sense of purpose. Clean things up, get rich, development and infrastructure seem to be the new buzz words. I hardly saw a road or a lane where some establishment, luxury condominium, or shopping mall isn't coming up. This of course is stressing the limited infrastructure immensely. However that's something that is a natural outcome of exponential growth. Buying a house was such a big deal a while ago. Today, most are able to purchase a flat with relative ease. I saw smiling faces from billboards saying how easy it was to purchase a property. Loans from banks, easy installments, all the modern day comforts and luxury, superb location etc. A boom seemed to be underway. This was already happening for the last couple of years, but it was only now that I saw the effects of this new found prosperity. All the young people go about from one pub to another, talking excitedly on the latest cell phone, Mp3 players stuck into their ears. All everyone talks about is buying property, some gloating over how they made a killing by buying a flat at a prime location a year ago, purchasing the hottest labels of clothing from the millions of new malls that are coming up in every nook and corner. A wholly new attitude was on display and money and prosperity seem to be the new ideals. New restaurants, glitzy streets and a buzzing nightlife all give evidence of this new growth story.
While I am happy for the city and this should come as a welcome change to Calcutta, I somehow felt a few pangs of loss. Its the same feeling you get when you realise your best friend, who you've just met after a longish gap, has changed somehow and doesn't value your friendship as much anymore. You're happy at your friend's new found wealth, but you want to share the same good times as you did before...without the cellphone ringing all the time, without having to go shopping with him to Guess, Mango, Spencer's and M&S. Just you and him, together, by the riverside on a winter afternoon, sipping a hot cup of chai, discussing something more than which new cellphone or car to buy. I want to be able to walk through the city lanes, see children play sports on the streets, instead of being glued to their Play Stations. I want to see the fast disappearing 'para club' still thriving. I wish to see people take a break from their running about and cell phones and actually take interest in other people. I want to see the new buildings glitter and glow in all their neon glory, but I still want to see a family taking the children out to the book fair, instead of a hurried 2 night 3 day trip to Bangkok. I want to see children at the various community libraries, not at video game parlours and malls.
Perhaps this incident will explain what I mean, best. On the 24th of December, Xmas eve, I was at the Saturday Club with the wife and some cousins. The atmosphere was jovial and upbeat with live music and dancers from some troupe, swinging to all the latest dance floor hits. When the clock struck 12, I expected at least one Xmas carol if not anything else. But nothing of the sort happened. Instead Daler Mehendi's 'Hayo rabba' blared through the speakers, sung by the Anglo-Indian singer, hired for the night (tell me about the IRONY there..lol). No one really stopped to say Merry Xmas or the like. On top of that, there were pesky waiters who demanded tips at any given opportunity. I looked around to see just one Xmas tree, almost covered by huge sponsor hoardings and adverts from alcohol companies. This was an excuse to party, not a Christmas celebration. The only cheer and good spirit was from the Scotch whisky which flowed non stop. As we left the club, feeling let down, we noticed a man in a torn suit outside the gate, paying the saxophone. 'Jingle bells, Jingle bells...'. All we could do was smile at each other and put a brand new Rs. 50 note into his hat which lay in front of him. There were hardly any people on the road (which is unheard of in Calcutta during Xmas) and he seemed to be the only thing that night that reminded us of the festive Christmas spirit. A poor, cold and drunk saxophone player. This was what was left of the old Calcutta. This from a city which had such a large Anglo Indian and Christian community and where Xmas was perhaps the second festival of the city after the Durga Puja. No more plum cakes from Nahoum's for you son, its going to be disco music and pub hopping this time. Father Xmas? Haha, still living in the made up dreamworld huh? Wake up and smell the money. Now he visits only those who have nothing better to do. The 'have nots' or the 'out' crowd. I guess definitions of good cheer and festive spirit have changed. Sigh.
The government may have a role to play here. It must look to keep the cultural scene alive and kicking. Is one connection that cannot be lost. Reinvention of the city's past and the rehabilitation of the quickly degenerating cultural edifices and hubs would help immensely. Going to see the gorgeous, but largely unknown, 'Marble Palace' has to be seen as 'fashionable' again. Currently all I saw was hoards of young people, rushing from one place to another, looking to quickly improve their lot and get rich. Calcutta of old, at least in terms of values, is perhaps getting left behind in this frenzied rush. I would hate see this happen. I'm sure all Calcuttans would. I pride the city's soul more than anything else. I like the body beautiful, but I'm afraid Faust might have just made his deal again.

PS - All was perhaps not lost. I did get the opportunity to see Ravi Shankar and his daughter Anoushka perform at the Calcutta Club. It was a great evening to cherish and remember, with the ailing maestro improvising brilliantly through the various raagas. He had the crowd enthralled all throughout his 2 hour performance. I'm glad I went. Something to tell the grandchildren about.

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Finale 2007

Another year goes past. First, apologies for being hopelessly irregular. New year resolution for sure. Wait, thats what I said last year...Hmm...more action less talk...thats what the resolution should be. Have heard that quite a bit this year... and just as well, because if its not love then its the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb that will bring us together. Whats what Morrissey says anyway. Nope, will work on that. What else, more enthusiasm for life maybe? Go out, duniya dekho...kya bekar kamre mein baitha rahta hai...hmm..point taken. Done, resoultion no. 2. Need to get more health conscious as well...Ok no need to push it. Enough already. Not good with resolutions at all. But lets see this time...

The year was ok...2 months in the UK, property purchase, some half decent films, 1st wedding anniversary, Dada - 239. Well, can't ask for much more. Lol.. really need to start demanding more from life.

Well, here's wishing you all a merry Xmas and a Happy 2008!

Off to Calcutta tomorrow... ciao.

Cheers!

Abhishek.

Got to be Aishwarya

Went for a play after absolute ages. Wasn't really your connoisseur's delight, this Bharat Dhabolkar production. I have seen a couple of his earlier plays, both being bawdy pieces, typical sex comedies. Thankfully, he seems to have matured as a playwright. 'Got to be Aishwarya' deals with father-daughter bonding. Tom Alter plays Neil Kapoor, a Bollywood screenwriter who meets his long lost daughter from his first marriage, Reem (Ananya Dutt), who ironically has come to Mumbai to make it in the movie business. Their first meeting is awkward to say the least, but then over time how the father changes from a care free, cynical, and dry human being to a fretting, worried and doting dad, forms the crux of the proceedings. He is helped in this endeavour by his girlfriend and single mom, Anuradha (the lovely and supremely talented Mona Ambegaonkar, of 'Ambar Dhara' fame). They end up forming a nice little family unit of their own by the end of the play and its a happy story.

The play in itself is enjoyable on the whole, though cliched in parts. Issues like the man's fear of commitment, single motherhood, Bollywood double standards, and struggling in the movie industry are discussed. The set is pretty sparse and the proceedings take place in the protagonist, Neil Kapoor's flat.

Performance wise, Ambegaokar steals the show with her natural performance as the single mother in a carefree relationship with the screenwriter. She is a pleasure to watch in the supporting role that she essays. Her simultaneous insecurity (at suddenly being the second most important woman in Neil's life after the appearance of his daughter), and heartfelt love and sympathy for Neil is phenomenally well nuanced. Alter is good as well, but is visibly stretched during the the emotional scenes of the play. Ananya Dutt is passable and seems to wilt under the most demanding role on display, that of a daughter in search of her father who left twenty years ago. Someone should tell her that shaking her head vigorously while delivering her lines is not necessarily good acting... Anyways, a decent watch. A light, sprightly piece for the entire family.

2.5/5

Cheers!

Abhishek.

Chak De India

Shimit Amin's film has to be one of the best sports films to come of India, though really, that's not saying much as sports films are generally neglected in this part of the world. However, I was keen to see how this product from the US returned director of 'Ab Tak Chappan' would turn out, and I must say I was quite satisfied. Set in the backrooms of the Indian Women's Hockey world, the film is a cliched story about a disgraced India ex-captain, who returns from exile to lead a ragtag, fractional team of no-hopers to the title of the World Championships. Its the treatment, however that should come in for high praise. Fast paced sports action, dollops of emotional drama and a fresh bunch of actors/hockey players make this film enjoyable. The move to enlist the services of hockey players rather than actors (barring a few exceptions), seems to have been an inspired one as it makes the story entirely believable. Most of the stereotypes are revisited - inter state rivalry, the team bullies, girls being stereotyped according to their origins (a scene where a girl from Andhra Pradesh is termed a 'Madrasi') - however, the treatment saves them from getting boring and repetitive.

Special mention should be made of Shahrukh Khan. The star delivers one of his finest performances in recent times. He holds the film together and his quiet confidence pervades the entire film. We hope we see more of this side of him in subsequent outings as well... but with Om Shanti Om in the works, it looks like we might have to wait a while.

A word of praise for the film's music. It remains in the background and doesn't jar the proceedings. The songs are some of Salim-Suleiman's best, all aptly placed throughout the film. I only wish the title track was sung by Daler Mehendi instead! Direction is good as well and Amin shows he's capable of handling completely diverse genres with ample ease. Jaideep Sahani's screenplay is also one of the stars of the film. Tight, smooth and flows like a charm. A high energy outing, worth a watch.

4/5

Cheers!
Abhishek

India's lost generation

In Harsha Bhogle's recent article in the Indian Express, he mentioned a group of cricketers he claimed to be India's lost generation. These were players who flattered to deceive, who showed an initial spark but failed to live up to their potential, victims of their own prodigious talent. He mentioned Virender Sehwag and Harbhajan Singh. To me they are not so much lost generation players, as they are temporary benchers. These players have proven themselves at the highest level and have now fallen off the radar due to inconsistent performances... I highlight a few current Indian players who have always failed to reach their full potential.



1. Ajit Agarkar - It doesn't get more frustrating than this guy. Oodles of talent, yet an enigma. Century at Lords, yet nicknamed the Bombay Duck. Quickest to reach 50 ODI wickets, yet now only a stock bowler. One never knows which Agarkar will show up at the game. Sometimes brilliant, sometimes wayward and most times plain average. Blessed with immense talent with both bat and bat, this lad has failed to realise his true potential with either. Three performances will stand out for me. His match-winning 4-for in Sharjah against NZ, his 6-for in the Adelaide test win and a 142 kmph beauty he hurled at Mark Waugh in Mumbai, in his second ODI, cutting the stylist completely in half, making him look..erm..clumsy, human. He should have been a certainty in both tests and ODIs, but now plays only in the shorter version of the game.



2. Ambati Rayudu - Hailed as the next big batting hope, this youngster has all but fizzled out. A heavy scorer in domestic cricket early on, his form completely deserted him and a couple of ordinary seasons did him no favours. A couple of Challenger Trophies went a begging and his batting form dipped completely. His domestic average of 39.92 does him no justice. This man is immensely talented. His double hundred and hundred in the same match against Andhra Pradesh in his first Ranji season is testimony to that. He was expected to take over the mantle of genius from Sachin Tendulkar, but still languishes in the mire of domestic cricket.



3. Ashish Nehra - Where is Ashish Nehra? His 6-23 against England will always be etched in popular memory. Yet the man behind a few moments of brilliance has completely disappeared off the scene. Dogged with injury and inconsistent form, this is one player who was to be part of India's new found pace bowling plans. Along with Balaji, they are now part of the what could have been plans.



4. VRV Singh - India's fastest bowler he was touted. Given India's current success with the test team in the fast bowling department, his entry into the bowling lineup looks inevitably delayed. He struggles to stay fit, and is inconsistent at most times. Hope we hear more of him in the future.



5. Akash Chopra - A steady opening bat who was the perfect foil for the exuberant Sehwag. Their opening stands in the tour of Australia were crucial in drawing the series. it was one of the most determined opening stands in the history of modern Indian cricket. Chopra's stonewalling allowed the the batting galacticos to come in play fluently. His contribution as a close in catcher should also not be forgotten. However, the establishment at the BCCI seems to have forgotten him. Dropped by Ganguly to accommodate Yuvraj Singh, a bad move, no doubt, he never could fight his way back into the test team. He and S. Ramesh remain India's best opening hopes who fizzled out after a spark.



Players from the past - There have been a few immensely talented players in the past as well who didn't go on to fulfill their potential - Sadanand Vishwanath, Laxman Sivaramakrishnan, Utpal Chatterjee, Rajender Goel, Padmakar Shivalkar, Raman Lamba and many more.



Cheers!

Abhishek.

Maximum City: Bombay lost and found - Book review

Fucking brilliant!!

Cheers!
Abhishek.

The Bong Connection

Anjan Dutta's 'crossover' effort is not entirely crossover, neither does it offer anything entirely new to the viewer. Yes, a decently packaged product, but that's about it. It will please the Bengalis a bit, but might leave most others a bit bemused about what all the fuss was about.

The story moves on two parallel tracks. Andy, an NRI musician, returns to Kolkata in search of some musical inspiration, a muse of sorts. Apu, a software engineer on the other hand is waiting for the first opportunity to leave Kolkata, a city he thinks has permanently stagnated. He leaves for the US and is quite oblivious of some of the resistance from his girlfriend and his family. He harbours NRI dreams of big money, fancy cars and the high life. For me the Andy track is the more interesting one...Kolkata befuddles the young man... its laid back attitude, the work culture, and this richness of its culture. He sees the youth blindly following western trends, without once turning to the rich and vast cultural heritage of Bengal. He visits a pub, the hallowed Someplace Else, and on hearing the band perform Dylan, he comments, 'How come they're all singing English songs, this is Bengal isn't it, why don't they sing a few Bengali ones as well?' He gets increasingly frustrated with it all. To add to that, all is not well with his own family in Kolkata, his cousin beats up his wife, while the elders chose to completely ignore this almost daily ritual. His retired uncle wishes to sell the family house for a lot of money and settle down to a hum drum life, surviving off the interest. The buyer would probably turn it into a hotel...Andy asks, 'Why can't you run a hotel? You abuse the Marwari for ruining the Bengali and then sell him your house to just to take the easy way out?' The facade of the Bengali Bhadrolok is shattered. The end sees Andy succeed in his musical endeavors and move back to the US, with an offer to score the music of Mira Nair's 'Namsake'no less!

Apu,on the other hand has a more difficult time of it. When he has spare time from bouts of vomiting (as a result of an old Bengali affliction of not being able to hold much liquor) and nodding his head, he works, befriends a Bengali-American girl and an illegal homesick Bangladeshi taxi driver. He has his fun times, falling in love with the Bengali American and drinking (and vomiting again) with his taxi driver friend. However, he is unable to completely come to terms with the life in the land where his dreams are supposed to come true. He is shocked at discovering that his flatmate and coworker is gay. But then stands up for him when he is fired by their homophobic boss. His own frustrations, coupled with his deep rooted Indian grounding, sees him head home to Kolkata, not defeated, but disillusioned. This track is entirely unremarkable, the only highlight being a Bengali party he attends, where every Bengali stereotype is poked fun at. Is Netaji still alive or is he dead? Does Jyoti Babu still drink Blue label? Rabindrasangeet or Nazrulgeeti? How were the pujas this year? This year the hilsa harvest hasn't been good! Its all good fun.

In essence, similar to most 'crossover' NRI-returning-to- India', ABCD-type movies. A light, mildly refreshing little film, with good music (Neel Dutt), average to bad dialogues (more suited for reading) and decent direction. However, the film belongs to the husband-wife duo of Shayan Munshi and Peeya RaiChoudhury. Shayan as Andy is believable and is surely Munshi's best performance to date. Peeya is great as well, both of them having visibly worked really hard on their American accents. Parambrata Chatterjee as Apu is adequate. The supporting cohort of Mamata Shankar, Victor Bannerjee and June Maliya are good. Raima Sen is sincere as usual and turns in a decent number as Apu's girlfriend and Andy's love interest. GOd only knows why Soumitra Chatterjee decided to partak in this venture Andy's paralysed grandfather. All he does in the few minutes he gets is blink twice. The actor playing the Bangladeshi taxi driver is spontaneous and one hopes to see more of him.

So there...for those of you curious enough, or game for a quiet chuckle on a lazy Sunday afternoon, a sample of this may not be too bad. It will obviously help if you're a 'Bong'.

3/5

Cheers!

Abhishek.

Wham! Bham! (or is it Bam!?)

Leaving Bricket Wood this week. Will miss the place and the people. Made new friends, dispelled myths, overcame cultural stereotypes and learnt that all that matters in an organisation are people, and more so when they come in with the right attitude..."all in all its nice to be out..." not sure why I have the Stereophonics on my mind all of a sudden. Hope nothing happens to poor old Kelly or Richard. Last time I had "Sgt. Pepper" playing non-stop in my head, George Harrison died. Coincidence for sure. Or do I have the power to kill musicians off just by playing their records in my head in an endless loop? Watch out Himesh. Crazy made up words were the highlight of the day. Someone almost got away with 'distinctify'. Sounded about right. Who cares. I was supposed sort myself out on this 2 month long training thingy. Going back largely the same person. Only a tad more confused. All this psycho-babble has messed me up a bit..."if you could rewind your life, would it change your mind?". Kelly Jones, time to be scared. Why isn't the brain playing "Imagine" or "Hey Joe"? But I don't want to rewind my life. I like it the way it is. Or do I? Ah, thoughts...thoughts. Power to kill, I tell you. You don't think so? You never know, even long shots make it, sometimes.

Bricket Wood in pictures

A pictorial guide to my employer's best kept secret. Bricket Wood is an hour away from London, in the county of Hertfordshire, in the town of St. Alban's. A small, typical English village almost. Its such a pleasure to get away from the big concrete edifices of the city, and this place is as good a getaway as it gets. All around, you find green fields, grazing giant-size cattle, horses and happy people. And the pubs have the most wonderful names. 'The bat and the ball', 'Hare and hounds', 'The Blacksmith's arms', 'The Whiteheart tap' and 'The merry minstrel', just to name a few. Narrow, small streets intertwine themselves all through the town, almost taking you on journey to a time long gone. If not long gone, then simpler for sure.

The bank's training college in Bricket Wood, was actually the estate of the stately Yule family. Before that it was part of a Roman settlement around 40-60 AD. It then grew in importance for the next few hundred years till the black plague caused all the settlers to relocate. The Yule family bought it in 1900 and patronised it as an estate as well as to entertain Lady Yule's film friends and to breed horses. HSBC purchased the property in 1994 and it has been used as the Group training college ever since. The old buildings are still retained in almost their original splendour, with the Hanstead House being the pick of the lot. While many cottages line various parts of the training campus, the Hexagon Bar and the adjoining building exudes the most old world charm, with their dated but exquisite wooden panelling and high ceilings. The campus contains a football ground, a cricket pitch and a Community recreational premises, which the other residents of the area can also use. Another highlight for me is the beautiful lake on the premises, complete with its family of swans. A sight to behold on a bright summer's day. The pictures should tell their own story.


Trivia on the campus -


- The river Thames used to run by the sight, till the glacier 'Anglian' rerouted it.
- Gladys Yule built a pet cemetery on the estate, which still exists.
- Hanstead House's garden has a mulberry bush which is 400 yrs old!
- Hanstead House once had its own private zoo. Bears were a-roaming...
- Nearly 85 films made by the British National Films company were premiered at Hanstead House.
- Sir David Yule was the richest man in the Empire when he died in 1928.
- Reports exist of sightings of the ghost of Lady Gladys Yule!

Cheers!

Abhishek.

Block... Chakka jam

Finally... writer's block has set in... nothing interesting to blog about at all... or nothing I can dress up as interesting because of the inability to actually write it. Shite.. I'm hamming already. Well, to save some grace here I'll just say that for the last 3 weeks I've been in Bricket Wood, north of London, on work stuff. Another month to go. Its kinda boring, but fun at times. Its a lot like coming back to university. Campus, multicultural crowd, drinking binges and lots of work. Good overall I guess, though I do wish London wasn't so bleedin' expensive. Planning a Twenty-20 game here amongst the lads on Wednesday...lets see how that goes. The wife meanwhile is having a darm good time travelling around England and Scotland. Some people have all the luck... oh well.

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Shubho Nobobarsho!

Hi All,
Heres wishing you all a very Happy Bengali New Year! Shubho Noboborshor preeti o shubhechha... and heres wishing you all a happy 'Baisakhi'. Oh, and happy Malayali and Tamil New years as well...

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Eklavya -The Royal Guard

Drama. Lots of it. Vidhu Chopra's latest effort is heavy on drama. Its a weighty film that questions the age old concept of 'dharma'. Set in a royal family in Rajasthan, the film revolves around a family secret which changes the lives of all those living in the castle, still holding on to an era, long made irrelevant by independence. Each scene is incredibly well shot and high on emotion. But is the end product satisfactory? Not entirely. A script of almost Shakesperean proportions is let down by the slow and ponderous pace of things. And the self indulgent Chopra also uses footage of his 'Parinda', albeit in one of the film's finest scenes. The ending of the film is cliched and succumbs to the commercial requirements, which is a departure from the rest of the film. In the end a significant film indeed, but a film difficult to classify and difficult to declare a classic.
The acting is top rate though. Amitabh Bachchan, as the titular character is perfectly cast and does a bang up job as the hurting and duty-bound Royal guard. Saif Ali Khan as the prince is good as well. So are Boman Irani and Sanjay Dutt. The women are incidental, with Raima Sen having a meatier role than the heroine, Vidya Balan. Boman Irani is fantastic as the impotent, eccentric king. Jackie Shroff and Jimmy Sheirgill do well in the limited scope they get.
The music of the film is good, with only one song from Shantanu Moitra, Chopra's current favorite. 'Chanda re' is worthy effort. The background music is suspiciously familiar. A Peter Weir film springs to mind. Oh well, you can't have it all...
Worth a watch. I would have loved to praise this film to the skies, but, my soul is lacking, just like the film's.

3/5

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Happy new year

Happy new year to you all! My apologies for the delay in posting here. Well, the new year has brought with it some developments...for one my status is now 'married', I have changed roles at my work place and the Nanyang Business School debuted strongly into the Financial Times (FT) MBA rankings at no. 67. Its all good. Oh and did I forget, who was that fellow Sourav Ganguly everyone wrote off? Yup dada is back! As I said, its all good.
Here's wishing you all a belated happy new year. Hope 2007 is a good one... promise to be regular now.

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Mandatory marriage message

Well folks, next week same time, the goose is cooked. Carefree days of fun and frolic will change to fretful days of responsibility and worry. The 'baccha chele' will become 'bhodrolok' or 'korta'. Phew! The pressures, I tell you...
But some good things do come about from unions like these. For instance, the contrarian natures of both parties can sometimes conspire to serve them immensely well, leading to a happy and engaging time spent together. For instance, the fiance is a cleanliness freak and counts it amongst her favourite pass times. I, however, like to leave a trail of filth and general disorder in my wake, something like a statement of my presence. So I dirty and she cleans. And we're both happy. Fantastic.
However, similar traits in both parties can be quite negative in a relationship. The fact that neither of us can cook is quite a downer. How we shall survive to help ourselves and our future flock grow and prosper, is quite beyond me. So to all my local friends...please be prepared for unwanted guests...especially at meal times. We promise to bring gifts.

Well, I'll be off now and shall not be updating this space for atleast a couple of weeks. Fret not, as pictures shall be up soon.

Cheers!
Abhishek.

A Good Year

From the ferocious duo of Ridley Scott and Russell Crowe comes a benign, sappy romantic comedy which fails to impress on many counts. Set in London and France, the story traces the journey of a irreverent investment analyst Skinner (Crowe) who inherits his favourite uncle's vineyard and estate in France. Eager to sell it off immediately for good money, he heads there after he has been suspended for dodgy deals on the bond market. Things get a little complicated when an illegitimate child of his late uncle shows up, looking for her father. Skinner, however, promptly falls in love with a charming local waitress and after a while finds the sleepy and beautiful town to be quite agreeable. How he takes the decision to give up the bustle of his city life and the material attachments of money, fame and position, to settle into this dreamy place in France for a more sedate lifestyle forms the crux of the story.
In a lot of ways the story seeks to explore the meaning of modern city life, what its truly worth and our inability to find true happiness and inner peace and tranquility, even when it it right under our noses. In part it is also a treatise on the journey of boy to man, and lessons that life has to offer, shown beautifully in flash backs through the many conversations between young Skinner and his uncle Henry (Albert Finney). These are by far the best parts of the film, rich in language and cinematic effect. The performances are good, especially form the supporting cast. Crowe is of course much more convincing as the 'tough as nails' bond trader. As a romantic lead he tries hard, but is just about adequate. He should leave that to the Hugh Grants and the Mel Gibsons of the world and focus more on bashing people to death with 'Gladius Hispaniensis', and other Roman weaponry. Which Ridley Scott, too, may consider for his next venture.
'A Good Year' is just about watchable fare and ends up being light, mishy-mashy, some what feel good and in the end nothing unique. Save yourself the $10, rent the DVD or download off the net, if legal in your neck of the woods.

2/5

Cheers!
Abhishek.

"Suddenly they are not sure who they are. Carl Jung called this state mid-life crisis. You are in the trap of mid-life crisis, Jung said, when you are discontent with life, bored with people, feel dangerously adventurous, question the meaning of life, about who you are, or where your life is going. When this happens, you try to create a self to meet the expectations of others. But that puts life on a bumpy ride and the 'who am I' question turns more complex. They all want to be 'myself', but they are just not sure what that is..."

Blighmy! I've been in a mid life crisis practically all my life...

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Book reviews

After a hiatus from the literary world, I have hit back with a vengeance...devouring paperbacks and hardbacks alike, with all the zest of a possessed bibliophile. I have read quite a bit over the last month and briefly review here, three of the most readable titles I've leafed through:

1. Calcutta - A city remembered by Jug Suraiya

Quite possibly one of the few cities to have so many books dedicated to it. A hopelessly biased selection, I chose this book because it was made out to be a collection of essays about the sights and sounds of Calcutta, and not a prolonged and detailed history of the city. And i wasn't disappointed. The book is a poignant look at the images one naturally associates with the city...Rajiv Gandhi's 'dying city', Mother Teresa's home, the Howrah Bridge, the rickshaw puller, the football, the cultural melting pot, the 'Bengali' and the famous 'adda' sessions. The city evokes such strong and diverse feelings, both emotionally and culturally, that everyone has their own Calcutta and the author has his, and my, isn't it just fantastic. Vivid, funny and insightful, the book is a series of essays on the stereotypes associated with the city. He takes a look into the city's glorious past, its British heritage, its famous gentleman's club culture and its lost opulence and heads onwards in time into the turbulent 60s and 70s and ends with a note on its eventual decline and current resurgence. And at 130 pages, it leaves you thoroughly satisfied and yearning for more.

Extract - "In many ways, Calcutta - or at least, the Calcutta I knew - found an apt metaphor in a derelict, tuneless piano in my aunt's attic: once grand and imposing, but now consigned to cobwebs and memories; difficult to accommodate in any practical scheme of things, yet defiantly enduring; pathetic to some, poignant to others, sufficient to itself. "

2. From Balham to Bollywood by Chris England

A book that marries 2 of my keenest interests, cricket and Bollywood. Also a fun light read, this book is part travelogue, part cricket tour and part Bollywood movie. Chris England was chosen to play the role of Yardley, the fearsome Larwood-esque fast bowler from the British army team who lose to bunch of rag tag village cricketers in Champaran in a Bollywood movie. Yes, Lagaan. The book takes us on his journey into India, experiences with both Indian film making, the star system and the cricket. This laugh a page marathon will keep you guffawing right till the end. A great companion on a flight or a train journey.

Extract - " Within about fifteen minutes of Mela, however, 1 was utterly at sea. Aamir and his mate were involved in a fantastic fight scene, and then we cut away to a musical number. In a Hollywood musical the songs by and large seem to grow out of the story. Characters burst into song, which is not a particularly realistic thing to have happen, but the song takes place in the same location as the surrounding story, and pushes the plot along, or illuminates a character's emotional state in some way. In this, though, we were wrenched from a countryside scene on to a huge theatrical stage, where the characters were suddenly all clad in black leather, and surrounded by neon lights and a bewildering number of dancers. It was as though the Young Generation, the Younger Generation, the Second Generation, the Nigel Lythgoe dancers, the Jeff Thacker dancers, Pan's People, Legs 'n' Co, Hot Gossip, the lads from Michael Jackson's Thriller video and the Kids from Fame had got together to form some kind of almighty synchronised pelvisthrusting supergroup. They did their funky thing, and then it was back to the plot, and a bit of comic relief."

3. A bowl of steaming rice or a mere ghost story - Sunil Gangopadhyay

One of the finest collection of short stories I have read in a while from any Indian author. While this collection is a translation of the author's Bengali works, it does to a degree manage to hold its own in the English language. 15 stories, set both in the villages and in the city, present the reader with the opportunity to look into the the lives of ordinary people, living ordinary lives and facing ordinary problems. The author seems more comfortable with rural life and the stories set in the villages are the better ones, dealing with issues like decadence, hunger, superstition and fear(The goings on at Keshtopur). The title story, is by far the best and the most intricate. However, the stories dealing with city life are not far behind, and tend to delve into subjects like alienation, competition, morality(For acertain woman, The meaning of Bijon's life) and personal loss. Each story highlights some facet of daily life we have certainly encountered and or some emotional upheaval we have definitely been through. A book written from the heart, this is my first brush with Sunil Gangopadhyay and it has made sure that it will not be my last.

No extract available.

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Goodbye Shoaib?

Oh well, controversy's favorite child is in the dock again. A sad ending for one of the great cricketing entertainers of our time. A 2 year ban for the 31 year old tearaway fast bowler could effectively end his career. He could be guilty as sin, or it could just be a case of a monumental cock-up by the PCB...but that is now irrelevant. The bans have been handed out and though Shoaib can appeal, he appears pretty much out of it. Which is a pity because he was one of the genuine south Asian superstars of the game. His thundering runup, whippy action, hyperextended or not, and flying celebrations after a wicket, will all be imitated by bowlers to follow and will be stuff of legends. While his controversial career had branded him a bad boy, his exploits in the cricket field were consistently good. It had seemed as though the phoenix had finally risen...oh well...
As Kamraan Abbasi says in his article about the issue, 'what an almighty waste!'
I would dearly hope the fastest bowler in the world can bounce back for one final curtain call...
Thank you Shoaib, for being a cricket lover's delight.

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Many many reviews...

I've managed to catch up with loads of films in the last 2 - 3 weeks. Here are some brief reviews -

1. Khosla Ka Ghosla - A breath of fresh air. Amidst all the fanfare of the big budget films, remakes and sequels, this punjabi middle class story about a family protecting their plot of land from evil land sharks is a little gem. Natural performances, great script, genuinely funny at times and perfect casting...I would recommend this to all..quite in the Mukherjee/Chatterjee tradition. The second half tends to slow down and that perhaps is the only downer. Watch out for a surprisingly refreshing performance from Ranvir Shorey. 3.5/5

2. Jaan-e-mann - Old wine, new bottle. Starts well, some funny moments, and an interesting premise. Loses steam going forward and turns into the same old three way love story we are used to seeing. Sappy and melodramatic. Performances are nothing to write home about. Run of the mill stuff. Something of a return to form for Anu Malik, though. Some decent numbers. 1.5/5

3. Don - Don circa 2006 is a slick action thriller set in Malaysia instead of Mumbai, like its predecessor. Its a remake, so it is going to be compared to the original. People will want to be thrilled with the same scenes and dialogues that thrilled them in the 78 cult film. Some work and some don't. Akhtar tries hard and succeeds to a point, but the film drags in the second half. While the original didn't let up at all, here some situations are easily avoided. The songs seem to get in the way, baring a couple. Shah Rukh is good as the evil Don, but is unconvincing as Vijay. Some characters are given another dimension, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Om Puri appears for a screen time of 5 minutes... Arjun Rampal mumbles through his role and Isha Kopikar has nothing much to do. I did like Akhtar's plot twists in the end, but it could have been handled better. The middle part of the film lets it down badly. And Boman Irani should stay away from villainous roles for a while. Unconvincing as De silva and Vardhaan. Mixed bag. 2.5/5

4. The Departed - What a film! Martin Scorcese's best effort since Casino. A tight script and great performances from the cast, take this cops and robbers film about 2 moles on either side of the law to another level. Di Caprio puts in his best effort since 'Gilbert Grape' and Nicholson gets enough scope to showcase his hedonistic side..which is what we like about him in any case. Wahlberg and Damon are pretty good as well..with the latter giving an understated performance as the bad cop. Two hours plus just flew by during this gripping police drama. 4/5

5. The Prestige - Based on the novel of same name, this tale of two rival magicians in the early twentieth century is as gripping as it is inexplicable. Beautifully shot, good performances, some great magic, and some conspiracy theories thrown, this film seemed to have it all, till the end. The end takes away all the good work done till that point. A tragedy dealing with the bitter battle between friends turned foes trying to outdo each other with obsession of madmen progresses perfectly till the very end. Full marks for that...and Jackman and Bale do well. Scarlet Johannsen is used as eye candy. Not perhaps Nolan's best, but pretty good all the same. Worth a watch. 3/5

Cheers!
Abhishek.

The Nanyang MBA series - 5 (Rankings)

The Economist's MBA 2006 rankings are out. MBA rankings are tricky animals. They are based on pre determined criteria, which generally vary from ranker to ranker. Hence, what is an important criteria for determining the quality of a full-time MBA programme in one publisher's ranking, may not be as important to another. So, to a degree it does veer towards being a subjective exercise. I would recommend students, who generally tend to read too much into MBA rankings, to take these with a pinch of salt. The rankings can at best be indicative of a school's standing, not the final word on its competence.

The Economist's (EIU) rankings are based on the following criteria:

A. Open new career opportunities (35%)
1. Diversity of recruiters (Number of industry sectors)
2. Assessment of careers services (Percentage of graduates in jobs three months after graduation)
3. Jobs found through the careers service (Percentage of graduates finding jobs through careers service)
4. Student assessment (Meeting expectations and needs)

B. Personal development/educational experience (35%)
1. Faculty quality (Ratio of faculty to students/Percentage of faculty with PhD (full–time only))
2. Student quality (Average GMAT score/Average length of work experience)
3. Student diversity (Percentage of foreign students/Percentage of women students)
4. Education experience (Student rating of programme content and range of electives/Range of overseas exchange programmes/Number of languages on offer)

C. Increase salary (20%)
1. How much did your salary increase after graduating? (Salary change from pre–MBA to post–MBA (excluding bonuses))
2. Leaving salary (Post–MBA salary (excluding bonuses))

D. Potential to network (10%)
1. Breadth of alumni network (Ratio of registered alumni to current students)
2. Internationalism of alumni (Ratio of students to overseas alumni branches)
3. Alumni effectiveness (Student assessment of alumni network)

The rankings did throw up surprises this year. IESE continued its march at the top, with a host of US and European schools following suit. Dartmouth came in at 2, with Stanford and Chicago GSB bringing up 3 and 4 and IMD at number 5. The hallowed Harvard slipped to number 7 this year. Though the list is dominated by American Schools, the number of European Schools (IMD, IESE, LBS, INSEAD etc.) and Asian MBAs (IIM A, The Nanyang MBA, NUS, HKUST etc.) have been steadily increasing. The highest ranked Asian school this year was HKUST (37) followed by The University of HK (39). The Nanyang MBA moved up a few places this year to land in at 77, up from 83 in 2005 and 92 in 2004. Without getting too emotional about the alma mater, I would say that it is good progress indeed for a newish program. IIM A fell from a position in the 60s last year to 98 this year. This will disappoint the management there, especially after having gone on record with the fact that they would not participate in local rankings and focus only on foreign rankings like EIU's or FT's. NUS broke in at 99.
A lot of the Asian MBAs like CEIBS and Chinese University of HK went unranked, but this is no indicator of any shortcoming of the programmes. It might have resulted as a consequence of non participation of the schools or any other reason.

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Glimpses - Sharodutsav '06 Kolkata

The pujas have come and gone yet again. Only this time I was in Kolkata after a gap of two years to enjoy them in the flavor it is meant to be enjoyed in. So did I go all out? Not really... 'Pandal' hopping was restricted to south Kolkata alone, though the north has more to offer both in terms of heritage and craftmanship. However, the spirit and zest was there to see and it was fabulous to see that it had not waned at all...people braved the rains, be it to pay visits to the various 'pandals' or to generally enjoy themselves with friends and family. The atmosphere was one only Kolkata can provide. Another highlight of this Kolkata trip was the family gathering at home to mark the 100th birth anniversary of my paternal grandfather. While this is not a remarkable event in itself, the highlight for me was a citation received from a gentleman researching the origins of my fathers family in East Bengal. He happened to see the advertisement in the newspapers, where it was mentioned that my grandfather was from Barisal in East Bengal and immediately wrote in saying that he was from the same family, another branch from my grandfather's cousin's side which had settled independently in Calcutta (then). He confirmed names from his grandmother and sent in the citation in time for the birth anniversary celebrations, as he himself could not be present. The citation was read out at the gathering of almost all of my father's relatives. You could almost sense a longing for this new found relative on the faces of the slightly more aged family members, even though they hadn't a clue who he was. Getting the the whole family together there that evening was special indeed.

I attach some pictures of the colorful puja pandals which I visited this Durga Puja.

The Pandal at Shinghi Park The pandal at Raja Basanta Rai Road

The Maddox Square pandalI couldn't resist...opposite the Maddox square pandal

Cheers and Shubh Bijoya!

Abhishek.

Read fast...

Busy busy busy...stuff to finish at work. Tight deadline. Also helping in recruitment at work this year, so extra hours. Also a small debt to pay. Drinks money so nothing emotional. Old friend down in Singapore for a week. Need to put in some quality time there. Setting up two friends from different worlds. Lets see how that goes. Cupid gets the heat from both ends if things turn ugly. Shopping pending for Kolkata trip. List lies untouched, except for some non essential items. Planning son, planning. Packing also gloriously uninitiated. Don't even know where suitcase is. Sigh...all before Friday 5 pm.
I shall be back soon with some pictures of the Durga Puja from Kolkata...hasta manana until then..

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Songs of a lifetime - 8 (is it?)

This post will again bring me back to my favorite muse, Kolkata. With the Durga Puja approaching in about two weeks time, both mind and heart are happy in a way they haven't been in a long time. I shall be in Kolkata to experience the Pujas after a gap of two years. About time.

I also happened to find this article on the web by Manojit Mitra... not specific to the Pujas or anything, (for that you can read this) but what the heck, I'm hoping you'll forgive me the over-enthusiasm and read it anyway...

"The more Kolkata changes, the more it remains the same. How do I justify a statement like that? I don't. You go and find out for yourself. As for myself, I am quite happy to be saying what I want to say about Kolkata. Because I belong here, own it and am proud of this wonderful hellhole. Don't believe there's a better one. However, if you are too insistent, I'll tell you that it's like one of those clowns in the plays of yesteryear -- looks funny, acts ludicrous but is a good chap at heart, wishing everyone well, accepting his own fate without batting an eyelid and carries on when everyone else has left. Do me a favour: don't take it away from me.You can't, because Kolkata's heart never changes. You have brought so many new-fangled things into it, but under the surface, it's heart goes on beating in the same old rhythm. It all started from the mid-seventies when its skyline began to change and high-rise apartments reared their heads. The television arrived, and the indolent Calcuttan (read Kolkatan) took to it gladly. For years, they messed up the entire place, building the second bridge and the metro. More buses, more cars. More and more people. The naxalites slit some throats and went into oblivion. The youth Congress stampeded about for sometime, and fell back. The marxist took over and have been bossing it over, but I am told their stars have dimmed too. It seemed people were desperate to change the Kolkata I knew. Enter globalisation, and new slogans were raised. Posh hotels, restaurants. Food -- continental, Japanese, Thai. Discoes -- all-night dancing. An entirely new vocabulary emerged -- investment, downstream units, infrastructure. Then computers, dotcom, toggling, nerds. The fragrance of millions in the air. Overnight prosperity. Fly-by-night operations. The whole works.In front of me lies a letter from my school buddy, Atin Bose, who's made it big out there in the pomised land, the US of A. What with one thing and another he hasn't been able to visit Kolkata in the last twenty years. "Tell me," writes the sick-at-heart Kolkatan, "has Kolkata changed? Does College Street look different? What about Basanta Cabin..." Rewind to the mid-fifties. The era of innocence. When we were young and the world was green. The buses were crowded even then, but other things were different. The walls bore political slogans. The revolution, we were told, was long overdue.Occasionally, they set fire to trams at the crossing of College Street and Mahatma Gandhi Road. Tear gas, lathi charge, shooting. Run for it. Get into the Coffee House. A haze of cigarette smoke. Endless talkathon in progress at tables. Wodehouse, Eliot, Satyajit, Kamal Majumdar. In a dark cubicle in the ground floor of the Presidency College, professor Tarak Nath Sen taught Hamlet. His thin, artistic fingers shaking in excitement as he explained the scene where Hamlet tells Ophelia, "Get thee to a nunnery -- why should'st thou be a breeder of sinner...". Across the street, Gauri Nath Shastri walked up and down the classroom, in Sanskrit College, lecturing on Ahhijnanshakuntalam. We fooled around. Kabiraji cutlet in Dilkhusa restaurant. Toasts and tea in Basanta Cabin. Radhaballavi and dal in Putiram. Off to Esplanade, for ten paise on the bus. Two aging Anglo-Indians stood at the entrance to Chung Wah restaurant, strumming a guitar and a mandolin. They sang, "When the swallows come back to Capistrano / That's the day, I pray you would, come back to me". Those were the days of of Pat Boone and Dean Martin, Elvis Presley and Harry Bellafonte, Hemanta, Sandhya and Lata. At the centre of New Market was a small coffee shop with a juke box. You could listen to Jailhouse Rock for 25 paise. On Chowringhee Road stood Firpo's. Rich couples relaxed with drinks on its sprawling first-floor balcony. Tangawallas fed their horses where the metro's Esplanade station stands now. Vans of the Tea Board and Coffee Board stood near the tram goomty in the evening, selling cups of fine tea and coffee for 25 paise a cup. Phoochakas? ofcourse, a dozen a rupee. And those glorious all-night jalsas of adhunik gaan. Hemanta, Sandhya, Shymal, Satinath, Manabendra, Utpala. Those fabulous Uttam-Suchitra starrers. We tried to emulate Uttam. Every girl believed she was Suchitra Sen. Those furtive meets in YMCA cabins, walks down the strand, hand in hand in dark cinema houses. Romance!I am told that young people these days have no time for such things. Too busy planning their career, savings pennies to pay for the computer course. That would be sad. But I still find young couples sauntering slowly down lonely streets, lost to the world around them. Can romance die? In Kolkata? I don't believe it. What about those chattering, bag-slinging boys and girls in the Rabindra Sadan complex? The lonely, bespectacled young fellow who goes about singing "Aaj jyotsna ratey shabai gachhey boney"? The blind harmonium player who threads through the jostling pavement walkers on Chowringhee? The frentic Addas at road intersections? Unemployment and insecurity? Closed factories and empty promises? Kolkata will survive it all. I am inviting Atin Bose to come and stay with me. We shall storm the city together, like we did forty years ago. Let the self-exiled brother come home and see. Home is still home."

Oh, I almost forgot the song in all of this...this one is by a Bengali band called Chandrabindoo, known for their satirical, colloquial and humorous (often 'nonsense') lyrics. Their tunes are generally heavily influenced by western music and finding an original tune in their repertoire can take more effort than getting me to wear anything other than white, black or blue, but the lyrics more than make up for it sometimes...ah..I forgive them. I'm not sure who this song was dedicated to when originally written, but I shall take the liberty of dedicating it to the phenomenon of the Durga Pujas...

"Eita tomar gaan
Tumi loadshedding er chander alor shor
Tumi jhorer sheshe shurjo dhowa ghor

Aaina bhora din
Rup shaior er jol
Aalga chhutir rod
Rokto jholomol
tomai dilam
Ei khatar bhaje gacher patar naam

Eita tomar gaan
Tumi norom thote shechcha bethar neel
Tumi onno mone ekla pakhir jhil

Aina bhora din
Rup shaior er jol
Alga chhutir rod
Rokto jholomol
tomai dilam
Ei mayar poshom haat debar araam

Eita tomar gaan
Oi anchol ghera brishti chhater gham,
Rege mege shishu giyeche bhashan"

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Goppo... (Story)

The theatre hall was old, hallowed. Many a famous performance had been staged here. Today was another play. Of course, theatre was no longer the most favored art form and Tantu had reluctantly agreed to buy tickets for this event. He knew a few members of the cast, so he felt obliged to watch the show. Hmm...obligation...it never lay easy on the chest, did it? He made his way to the back rooms of the building, where the performing artistes were getting ready to stage a famous Tagore dance drama. He hadn't been to a play in a long while, so strangely, coming didn't feel like a complete waste of time. A re-acquaintance with a dying art form, so to speak, even if Tagore appreciation did not come naturally to him. The smell of the semi-lit corridor that winded up towards the green rooms hit his nostrils, and he smiled...Dettol. A few steps on and the corridor opened into a hall which had three doors. He knocked gently on the first before calling out, 'Babai da?' His peering eyes were met with stares from four men dressed up in bright green and golden kurtas. The room itself was littered with plastic swords, make up kits, trinkets and bright cloth. A box of black mustachios lay open in front of the large mirror that saddled the wall in front of them. A fifth man was was attempting to paste a rather large curly mustache onto the upper lip of one of brightly dressed men. On Tantu's entry the man standing immediately to his left, smiled and waved. "Tantu! You came!!" Tantu, smiled in return and waved back "Aah, Babai da, of course, I made it a point to come! I wouldn't miss this for the world!". This was of course only partially true. Tantu, in his head, winced.
Babai da, meanwhile, proceeded to introduce the others in the room. "This is Bhai, that one there is Buro, this is Babushona and the distinguished gentleman who is fixing Babushona's whiskers is Tito babu." Tantu folded his hands in the traditional Indian 'Namaste' and smiled. Babai da and the others had to be on stage for a sound check before the show, hence excused themselves and made their way out, leaving Tito Babu alone with him.

"Sit down, they will take a while", he said.

Tantu sat down on one of the wooden chairs, one on which Babushona had just been sitting. The seat felt warm and that was always a good thing.

"So you are a student?", Tito Babu asked.

"Not anymore, I was till a year ago, now I make short films, you know, like documentaries."
"Films...you are an artiste then, like all these people.", he carried on.
"Films yes, artiste I don't know. Just finished filming a documentary on wolves. Its not great money, but I like what I do." Tantu quipped.
"Money isn't everything. You need to do something that you enjoy. Something that marries passion and profession, you know?" Tito Babu was old, probably in his sixties. His faced was wrinkled and weather beaten. He looked sad. Maybe he couldn't marry passion and profession and wound up doing something he despised. Maybe not. Tantu chided himself for thinking too much. An awkward silence followed.
Suddenly, "Jana Gana Mana..." blared from the sound system, just outside the green room. The Indian national anthem was not a part of this Tagore dance drama, as far as Tantu knew, so he let a frown escape his brows. Tito Babu smiled and hummed the tune. Just then the song stopped as abruptly as it had started. Tito Babu stopped humming a second or two later. He seemed disappointed at its sudden end.
He looked at Tantu and asked, " You're a film wallah, correct?" Tell me, which popular Sachin Dev Burman tune is inspired from the Indian national anthem?"
(SD Burman was one of the great music directors of Hindi films. Though he passed away in the 70s, after three decades of great music composition, his tunes remain popular to this day.)
Tantu was taken by surprise. He wasn't expecting a quiz at a theatre performance. Besides, he was a young man, brought up on techno-pop, electronica and heavy metal. SD Burman was something his grandfather and father listened to, on those vinyl records and obscenely large gramophones.
"Not sure really. Which one?" Tantu wasn't really bothered. His brows arched into a frown for the second time, only this one feigned interest. In his head he winced again.
Tito Babu smiled and carried on, and hummed "Punjab Sindhu Gujarata Maratha, Dravida Utkala Banga...", and then hummed again "Humne to jab kaliya mangi, kaaton ka haar milaaa...".
He stopped, smiled and said, "laste pench diye ghuriye diyeche...see? kaliyan maangi...SD Burman er churi gulon dhora khub mushkil!" (It is extremely difficult to catch SD Burman's tune lifts!)
Tantu smiled. There could be truth in the old man's words, but he wasn't sure. "Aah..we learn something new everyday, don't we?" he said. "Thanks for the interesting titbit. I think I should be moving on, the show is about to start."

Tantu wanted didn't want another quiz from him. What if he asked him what the capital of Burkina Fasso was or which Indian music director lifted Procol Harum's 'Whiter shade of Pale'? It would be too much to handle. Besides the show really was going to start.

"Oh its time already? Sure, carry on, I wont keep you...you will need time to find your seat."

"Right, Mr. Tito, hope to meet you again."

Tantu winced in his head for the third time. He didn't want to meet this melancholic quiz master cum part time make up man ever again. He turned around and started his walk back into the corridor, only to turn around after a few moments.

The last thing he saw before he turned around again was the image of a sad old man, standing in the corner, back stage, watching the dance drama from the side line, behind the scenes, with a smile on his face, thoroughly enjoying the Tagore song and dance extravaganza. He was engrossed. His hands were folded behind his back and and his lips moved along with the stage singer's songs. He seemed happy, enjoying something he really liked. Maybe passion and profession had finally tied the knot.

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Lage Raho Munnabhai

First lets get the inevitable comparison with the first installment out of the way. 'Munnabhai MBBS' was a more complete, more intelligent film. 'Lage Raho' is more feel-good and commercial than the first part. It packs in more gags and laughs to play up to the gallery. So is the effect diluted? Not entirely. 'Lage Raho' still retains the goodness of the 'Munnabhai MBBS' film and builds a different message into the narrative without getting too preachy. I'd rate the first part marginally higher than the sequel.

However, the film is a great ride! Replete with fun, frolic and some Gandhian philosophy. The film doesn't start from where the first movie ends, but is a completely new episode in itself, easily holding its own. Sanjay Dutt and Arshad Warsi are back in their lovable avatars and this time are aided by Dilip Prabhawalkar, Boman Irani and Vidya Balan. The story involves Munna's experiences with Gandhi's teachings and his bid to live by the great man's ideals. He takes on a corrupt builder, Irani, in this episode and how he wins his lady love's (Balan) heart while helping distressed people along the way forms the meat of the story.
The gags in the film are good and this installment packs in more laughs than ever. In this regard, the duo of Dutt and Warsi do an exemplary job. Warsi especially deserves a pat on the back for his comic timing. His sudden lack of screen space in the second half is unfortunate. The film is sugar coated in its goodness. Of course if you have that man Gandhi woven around the story line it can't but be helped. Jimmy Shergill, Dia Mirza and Parikshit Sahni make appearances as beneficiaries of Munna's newfound mantra of 'Gandhi-giri'. This is the new catch phrase as against 'Jadoo ki jhappi' in part one.

The Munnabhai series is one of those rare comedies which live up to the great Mukherjee/Chatterjee tradition. They will be well remembered as classic comedies in years to come. Hirani's direction isn't too bad. Shantanu Moitra's music is tuneful but just about passable. Nowhere in the Parineeta or Yahaan league. He even lifts Cliff Richard's 'Theme for a dream'.
All in all a good movie to be enjoyed with friends and family and one which leaves you feeling good after the show. When was the last time you were able to do that?

PS: Ladies, watch out for Bachchan Jr. in a cameo!

3.5/5

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Khamosh Paani - Silent Waters

I had heard about this small Pakistani-French production at the time of its release and since the film had a limited release, it had not moved up on my 'to see' list. I chanced upon its CD the other day and at first sight, pounced on it. And I wasn't disappointed.

'Khamosh Paani' is a great film. Easily one of the best films in the 1947 partition of India genre. It examines the issue from an entirely different perspective and reinforces the possibilities of this genre, which I had thought, till I saw this film, been done to death. Sahiba Sumar as the director sets the film in a remote village in Pakistan's Punjab. The visuals are breathtaking. Its little, desolate, crumbling minarets, white-walled houses and lakes create that wonderfully alienated but content atmosphere. The residents of this village are a happy, content bunch of people. Among them is Ayesha (Kirron Kher) and her son Saleem (Aamir Malik). Ayesha teaches the Quran to the children of the village, while her eighteen year old son Saleem is an aimless, dreamy, charming and simple young lad, who's only ambition is to woo the pretty Zubeidaa (Shilpa Shukla). Zubeidaa, loves Saleem, but is eager to study in the city and build a career for herself. The year is 1979 and General Zia is about to enforce the Martial Law. This leads to the rise in Islamic fundamentalism through out the state and a few workers from the city come to the village to recruit some young hands to work for their misguided and deluded cause of Islam. Saleem is easy prey. He starts to get drawn into the quagmire of Islamic politics and begins to share the fundamentalistic ideas of the party workers, believing that he is doing the country a great service. Needless to say, in the process, he begins to alienate his girlfriend, who tries to get him to find a job and settle down. Things get complicated, when a group Sikhs arrive to pay respects to a holy shrine, from across the border. One particular gentleman, Jaswant, arrives at Ayesha's door looking for his sister, who he had lost during the partition. Ayesha turns out to be his sister, much to the annoyance of her son, who's transformation from gentle young lover to hardened fundamentalist is now complete. He is now shameful of being her son, a Sikh's descendant.

The story is compelling from a number of aspects. First, the film explores, through flashbacks, Ayesha's (and many other women's) trauma during the Partition, where families from both sides of the border would kill their own mothers, sisters and daughters, lest they fall into the enemy's hands and shame the family honour. Ayesha was one such girl, who was left to die by her Sikh family, only to be adopted by a kind Pakistani Punjabi man. The film captures her pain beautifully from the point that Jaswant comes looking for his sister in the village. Ayesha's final outburst at her brother for abandoning her years earlier is a very well done scene. Her pain at being rewarded for staying a true Pakistani Muslim, with only hate from her son is again very evocatively brought out. The scars of Partition are many. We see another side in 'Khamosh Paani'.

Another great aspect in the film is the transformation of Saleem. Aamir Malik holds you with his performance as the young misguided youth. You love him at the beginning of the film and then start hating him towards the end. His disregard for both his love and his mother are astonishing, but made eminently believable by the actor.

Also, the sequences where the city fundamentalists clash with the simple villagers who do not understand politics, are noteworthy. The scene where Saleem heads a protest against the Sikhs from across the border, with the old village folk watching in dismay is mersemerising.

The screenplay is very good and builds the story steadily. Performances are very good, from both Kirron Kher and Aamir Malik. Shilpa Shulka is good as well, though she looks too old be a school girl. The flashbacks of Ayesha suffering abuse and trauma are not its best parts. Perhaps if Ayesha had herself confronted her son with her ordeal, it would have had greater impact. But a very good watch all the same. I would recommend this film to all.

It has got me looking forward to more good cinema from Pakistan.

4/5

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Aajkal ke naujawano ko dekhkar mujhe badi mayoosi hoti hai bade baabu...

A cinematic luminary has passed away. Hrishikesh Mukherjee was perhaps Bollywood's cleanest and simplest story teller of the last century. His films have delighted us time and time over. Some of his films will be remembered as classics. He was not Ray, Ghatak, Sen or Gopalakrishnan. Neither was he in the Johar, Chopra mould. He was the quintessential man in the middle. His stories dealt with the joys and sorrows of the middle class. No one understood this class better than him and Basu Chatterjee. I remember reading an article which said that Hrishikesh Mukherjee's films are like our fondest photographs in our picture albums. How true. I'd frame them.
Of course, Mukherjee's body of work did have blemishes. He did get repetitive in theme at times and made some average cinema with films like "Kisi se na kehna" and "Jhoot bole kauwa kaate", where you could tell he was trying to paste Amrish Puri onto Utpal Dutt, Anupam Kher onto David and Anil Kapoor onto Amol Palekar. He also got a little too ambitious with "Bemisaal". However, one doesn't really care about the blemishes of the man who gave us "Anari", "Anand", "Guddi", "Abhimaan", "Golmaal", "Anupama" and "Naram Garam". His films were all about normal people in abnormal scenarios. The joys and foibles of people like you and me. He was our film maker. They don't tell stories like this anymore. I'm sure if he saw today's big budget, candy floss, music video cinema he would repeat Utpal Dutt's classic line from Golmaal.

And now the answers from last post's Quiz -

1. RD Burman and Swapan Chakraborty sing 'Golmaal hai'. Amit Kumar was also in the recording studio at that time, but I find it hard to figure out his lines in the song.

2. Amitabh is shooting for 'Jurmana'.

3. Mukherjee used the same green and white school uniform to dress up 'Guddi'.

4. Gulzar, Bharat.

5. That Bhawani Shankar is Bengali in the film is clear from the slang phrase 'Daat kelani bancharam' (teeth bearing/laughing idiot?) which he uses twice in the film.

6. Swami Vivekananda.

7. There are a total of 8 sportsmen mentioned in the film: 2 Pakistan Hockey players (Samiullah Khan and another I cannot remember right now), Pele, Sunil Gavaskar, Vishwanath, Amarnath, Bedi and Chandrashekhar.

8. In the scene where Deven Verma wears make up (mustache) the mustache curls upwards. However, when Amol Palekar has to make the excuse and introduces his twin brother to Utpal Dutt, the flashback to the same scene shows Verma pasting a mustache curling downwards.

9. Kishore Kumar and Amit Kumar.

10. 15%, but only 12% passed.

Commendations to Gaurav for his fine attempt. Well done sir.

Cheers!
Abhishek.

The Great 'Golmaal' Quiz

A classic comedy indeed. Uptal Dutt, Amol Palekar and Hrishikesh Mukherjee got it just right in this one. I know loads of people who have seen this film millions of times. I know people who know all the dialogues and can recite them backwards. This is one of those films that has continued to gain monumental popularity years after its initial release. But how well do you actually know 'Golmaal'? Take the quiz and find out! Answers in the next post.

1. In the first song of the film, 'Golmaal hai', who takes up the playback responsibilities?

2. In the scene where Deven takes Ram Prasad to Mohan Studios to get him a 'kurta payjama' for his interview, they meet Amitabh Bachchan, who is shooting for one of his films. Which film?

3. In the same scene (mentioned above), Amitabh is then accosted by autograph hunting school girls who are in their uniforms. This identical school uniform was used by Hrishikesh Mukherjee in another of his well loved films. Which?

4. Fill in the blanks - "Bacchu, pehnoge sirf dhoti kurta to lagoge Mr.____, tum pehnke dekho dhoti, kurta aur jacket, tum lagoge Mr._____.

5. Bhawani Shankar (Utpal Dutt) uses a Bengali slang phrase twice in the film. Can you identify which one?

6. Bhawani Shankar has the bust of which famous Indian philosopher/social reformer in his office?

7. Bhawani Shankar hates the fact that the youth wastes itself in sports and other related activities. How many sportsmen are mentioned throughout the length of the film?

8. There is a serious continuity problem in one of the scenes of the film. Did you notice which?

9. Who sang the song 'Sapne mein dekha sapna'?

10. What percentage of candidates were expected to pass the Chartered Accountancy Final examination the term Ram Prasad appeared for the exam?

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Happy Birthday to you...

Well, its been a year since this blog started and boy, hasn't time flown! When I started off, I didn't see it this far into the future, quite frankly. Congratulations to me and Happy Birthday to the blogspot.
As a new year resolution perhaps, I would like to be more regular with my writing here. I had almost lost touch with the written word after school as college and B-school don't really stress on natural writing skills and ability; they tends to promote business writing more than anything else. Natural self expression gets limited opportunity. This space gives me scope to write as I want, about the stuff I want to write about. Perhaps I also need to broaden my horizon a little bit in terms of subjects...perhaps diarise it a tad. Lets see.
For now, I'm just glad I got this far.

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Snippets

The fish-loving Bengalis will be deprived of their favourite Hilsa this year owing to a paltry catch even in the peak of the Hilsa season. “Though an unpalatable truth, the supply of Hilsa to the city markets is low this year. We blame unfavourable climatic conditions for the low catch,” Mr Kiranmoy Nanda, state fisheries minister, said. He said that owing to frequent depressions and cyclonic conditions in the Bay of Bengal, the fishermen, who venture deep into the sea for fishing, had no option but to stay anchored. Also, he said, this time the onset on monsoon was not accompanied by any easterly breeze ~ which is responsible for the diverting the shoals of Hilsa to move from sea to the river for the purpose of breeding.This year, supply of Hilsa from Bangladesh has also been as low as 574 metric ton till July as compared with the 3,375 metric ton supplied during the same period last year. He said that even Bangladeshi fishermen had had a bad season this time around.

Bugger! Anyways...I haven't had a decent meal of 'ilish' maach in more than two years...atleast this year I won't be alone in my misery...

Allen Heckard filed a lawsuit in Hillsboro, Ore., in June against Michael Jordan and Nike founder Phil Knight for $416 million each, charging that they are responsible for his "pain and suffering," and his "defamation," in that nearly every day for 15 years, people have mistaken him for Jordan. Heckard admits to being a pretty good basketball player (though 6 inches shorter than Jordan) and to wearing Air Jordans, and in fact curiously told KGW-TV that, all in all, being recognized as Jordan was a "positive" thing. He said he arrived at the "416" figure from multiplying his age by seven (though he appears to be in his 30s, not 59). (Needless to say, Heckard filed the lawsuit without benefit of a lawyer.)

Umm...what do I say, they've been weirder lawsuits!

Stressed-out Chinese can now unleash pent-up anger at a bar that lets customers attack staff, smash glasses and generally make a ruckus, a Chinese newspaper reported Monday. The Rising Sun Anger Release Bar in Nanjing, capital of the eastern province of Jiangsu, employs 20 muscled young men as "models" for customers to punch and scream at. "Customers can specify how they want the models to appear -- they can even appear as women -- and then they are free to give them a sound beating," the China Daily said. The bar charges from 50 yuan ($6.25) to 300 yuan for the pleasure. If violence does not work, counselors - students from local universities - are at hand to dispense advice, the newspaper quoted the owner of the bar, Wu Gong, as saying.

Can we do something similar at work??

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Omkara

A few posts ago, I had likened Vishal Bhardwaj to Gulzar. I was a little off the mark. Vishal is a much better story teller than the great man. In his second Shakespearean venture, he exhibits remarkable ease while handling the camera, and every frame is worth its weight in gold. I have very few bad things to say about the film. From Makdee to Maqbool to Omkara...this filmography alone can put him in a league all by himself.
I assume here that everyone knows what Othello is all about. A tragedy filled with lies, deceipt, love and bloodshed. Omkara stays very true to the original, in fact Vishal doesn't include any fictional characters to adapt the story to fit the Indian landscape. And what a landscape it is! Set in political Uttar Pradesh, a menacing, hostile jungle of violence, political intrigue and feuds, with its dusty villages and golden fields, the surroundings keep you captivated from start to finish. The backdrop itself is as strong as any of the characters. Ajay Devgan as Omkara is powerful, Kareena as Dolly is very good as well, Vivek Oberoi as Kesu and Bipasha Basu as Billo don't get much scope. But Konkona Sen takes your breath away with her vibrance in a smallish role. She is a fantastic actress and its frightening to imagine what she could accomplish after a few more years in the business. But all said and done, this is Saif Ali Khan's film. Iago (Landga Tyagi here) is a difficult character to play, but Saif makes the scheming, hurting, jealous lieutenant come alive in a way that you hate and like him at the same time. Award winning stuff.
The music of the film is good as well. 'O Saathi re' and 'Omkara' are the stand out tracks for me. The others are situational and are not bad by any standards. One item song too many though. Gulzar's lyrics are fantastic.
The only possible drawbacks of the film could be the language of the film, which is very UP ite and hence might be difficult to grasp for people not versed with the accent and dialect in that part of the country and the editing, which uses the fade out technique too often, which slows down proceedings considerably. A few expletives could have been avoided, but its not really something I'd whine about.
Dark, brooding, menacing, delightful.
Omkara could well be a classic in the making.

4/5

Cheers!
Abhishek.

Convocation '06: the real story

TO,
Aroon!, Spookie, Capt. Suppi, Candy, KK, G2, Santy, Raju Chacha, Sachin, Rishi, Aande, Arun C, Balaji, Ekta jiee!, Sandeep, Bhaagaah, Pranava, Bean, Bawa, Ram, Sudheer, Mayank, Kaiyo, Cuong, Zoltan, Chris R, Chris K, Melly, FM, Wee Ping, Afia, Linh Thy Vu, Emlyn.

Congratulations!
I love you guys. Couldn't have asked for better company.
To us.


PS:
Ashok - To him goes the best senior award. Thanks bro for being there.
Aroon - Dude. Hate to see you go. I'll see you in Pecos someday. Till then, the memories remain. Brij, Bean, Kayo, Sandeep and Ashwin - Missed you guys!
G2- Thanks for coming sir. Wouldn't have been the same.
Maa, Dad and Stuti - Take a bow. I wouldn't be here otherwise.

CHEERS!
Abhishek.

Songs of a lifetime - 7

A moment from our lives to remember those innocents who lost their lives in the Mumbai blasts. India, having been a victim of violence for a while now, is used to these kinds of situations. So much so that we don't even cringe at the news. Desensitised, i guess. As usual, all this will soon be forgotten and life will continue as usual. There will be no concentrated results to beef up internal security. Bribary, lapse and the 'chalta hai' attitude will continue. Correct me if I am wrong, but cities like Bangalore, Chennai and Kolkata are sitting ducks w.r.t security, high alert or not. One shudders to think what the effects of a similar attack would be, in these areas. In the meanwhile the 'mumbaikar' will steel himself, pick up the threads of his life, mourn the loss of his loved ones in unision and move on. The world will forget soon enough.
A tribute to the great city of Mumbai.

Aye dil hai mushkil jeena yahan
Zara hat ke zara bach ke,
Yeh hai Bombay meri jaan

Kahin building kahin traame, kahin motor kahin mill
Milta hai yahan sab kuchh ik milta nahin dil
Insaan ka nahin kahin naam-o-nishaan
Zara hat ke zara bach ke, yeh hai Bombay meri jaan

Kahin satta, kahin patta kahin chori kahin race
Kahin daaka, kahin phaaka kahin thokar kahin thes
Bekaaro ke hain kai kaam yahan
Zara hat ke zara bach ke, yeh hai Bombay meri jaan

Beghar ko aawara yahan kehte has has
Khud kaate gale sabke kahe isko business
Ik cheez ke hain kai naam yahan
Zara hat ke zara bach ke, yeh hai Bombay meri jaan

Bura duniya woh hai kehta aisa bhola tu na ban
Jo hai karta woh hai bharta hai yahan ka yeh chalan
Tadbeer nahin chalne ki yahan
Yeh hai Bombay, yeh hai Bombay, yeh hai Bombay meri jaan
Aye dil hai aasaa jeena yahan
Suno mister, suno bandhu, yeh hai Bombay meri jaan

Duniya mein nahin dekha tune aise yeh nagar,
Aasoon ki nadiyan hai, par kisko hai fikar?
Bombay ko hai salaam mera,
Yeh hai Bombay, yeh hai Bombay, yeh hai Bombay meri jaan

PS: My apologies to Majrooh Sultanpuri for adding my vile words to his sublime creation!

Cheers!
Abhishek.

The shepherds

Some people to whom I owe a lot to. I wish I could find more time for them. People who shaped my thought process, inspired me, frustrated me and unconsciously helped in nurturing whatever minimal talents I have. You deserve more than you get. A big thank you!
NIHIL ULTRA...

Cheers!

Abhishek.