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.