Yeh Ho Chuka hai??

‘Does committing a crime make you a criminal?’

Sanjay Gadhvi surely doesn’t think so. Hey, lifting off ideas is no crime. In bollywood it’s called inspiration. Don’t believe me? Ask Sanjay Gupta, Guddu Dhanoa, Anu malik (or is it annu malek?), Pritam, the list goes on longer than the Nile. These fine men take inspiration from international films and music and whatever and ‘indianise’ it and bring it to us lesser Indian mortals. In fact, they are doing us a favour. Opening up the world to us.

Okay, now coming back to the question ‘Does committing a crime make you a criminal?’

That’s the BIG question on which Sanjay Gadhvi’s yet to be released film, Kidnap treads on.
Vikrant Raina, net worth 51.7 billion dollars. No more pachchaas tola and do peti roles for Sanju Baba. In Kidnap he is, in his own words, “The richest Indian in the world” . They say, in advertising there is no such thing as an ‘original idea’. Whatever there is to be said has been said before, done before. ‘Yeh ho chuka hai’ are the four goddamn words an advertising person dreads the most but is subjected to, everyday. But Sanjay Gadhvi of course had no such problem. So he is bringing us a film, which by the look of it doesn’t look like it’s been inspired by just one film, but a motley crew of films. One look at the promos and one can tell he is a big ‘fan’ of Korean films, so what better way to pay homage than to take inspiration from a whole lot of them. Looking at the promos one can tell that there is a bit of ‘Save the Green Planet’, the directorial debut of Korean director Jang Jun-Hwan, about a guy who kidnaps a rich entrepreneur who is responsible for his misfortune. And then there is a bit of Korean director Chan-wook Park’s ‘Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance’, a story about a young girl’s kidnap gone wrong. Only in Sympathy the young girl drowns in the water, unlike Minissa Lamba who takes up the oppurtunity to get into a bikini and do a little song and dance. I told you guys about the Indian ‘touch’, didn’t I? And then there is a bit of ‘The Cut’, another film by Park. It’s about a couple held hostage in their own home by a man, who makes the guy follow his instructions or else see his wife killed by the kidnapper. So there, at least 3 juicy stories concocted to make one wholesome indian offer.


And the inspiration doesn’t just end there. Imraan Khan’s look is inspired by Travis Bickle, who in my opinion is the most human hero of all times. Now that’s too much. Imran Khan is a promising guy, but jaane tu ya jaane na Mr. Gadhvi, Imran can’t hold no candle to Robert GOD De Niro. Or anybody can for that matter.

It’s Friday morning and in some time people will have a first public screening of the film. The eternal supporter of indian films that I am, I would be delighted to eat my words and see Mr. Gadhvi dishing out a ‘fresh’ film instead of a cheap rehash of some really brilliant international films. But I have a feeling he will not disappoint me, or should I say he will.

Cholo Pal(t)ai!

Once again, revolution is in the air in Bengal. And no, I am not talking about Mamata di’s resistance movement to thwart Tata’s “evil plan” to set up a car plant. No. The mamata-tata issue is way too nano compared to what I am talking about. I am talking about the cry for change by a new bangla channel, Star Jalsha. The new dawn is here. And the world better know it. So we sing and dance and celebrate the Notun Bangali, fronted by the most original of them all, drumrolls…err…I mean dhakrolls…Pritam. Bengal is changing and what better way to showcase it than a spanking new channel. This channel, believe me you my friend, is the true face of the new Bengal. Modern, yet rooted in its authentic Bengali roots. Look at the house and attire of people in one of the soaps, as authentic and as real Bengal as it gets. That’s how the women of Tollygunj Rajbadi dress and that’s no set but their own house, mind you. True to the old adage, what Bengal thinks today, India will think tomorrow. So what if the programs look like they are borrowed straight out of one certain Ekta Kapoor’s factory. Remember, she borrowed it from the famous bangali genre of entertainment , Jatra. Jalsha is only reclaiming back what rightly belongs to them. Needless to say, such a noble cause has phul saaport from all the ‘notun’ bangalis of the world, from Bombay to Bansbagan. So we have a host of Bengali celebrities asking the bangalis to ‘cholo paltai’(Lets change) in such joie de vivre that it fills one’s heart. And when Ritu da(?) asks for the change, one chokes with emotions unexplainable. If Bengal ever goes to war, all we need is Ritu da to ask in his inimitable style, and a generation of bengalis will lay their lives on the line like kamikaze pilots. So sit back and enjoy whatever they have done of the ‘modern’ Bengali. But if you ask me whether this is the modern Bengal, then I’d rather put my best running shoes and guru, cholo palai!

In case you wondering which song and dance i am talking to you about, here's the link
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NO5feg558vY

The Unholy War

They did it again. The murderers, whatever fancy name they like to call themselves by, are actually nothing more than that. Bloody murderers. They strike again and again and we do nothing at all. Politicians give their customary ‘khed hai’ and ‘kadi ninda’ and ‘compensation’ for the dead and injured number. The ruling party and the opposition will dig their nails deeper, roll their tongues and relish the moment they got yet again to settle personal scores. And we do ‘tut-tut’ and get back to our daily business, happy and content that it didn’t happen to us or those close to us. The so called spirit of Delhi (Ahmedabad, Bombay or any other city) will be back and rolling. Let’s not romanticise a serious problem like this. It’s not spirit, its indifference at best. Tomorrow, we will go back to our offices and try to meet our deadlines for a soap or a dessert ad, as if nothing happened. But for how long? And why?

Sure the root of discontent is too deep and convoluted to be discussed in one single post. It goes deeper and is steeped in bloody history which started much before our independence and has been hounding us for the last 61 years. Different clans of people have fought between themselves for long. Our history is full of shameful and unfortunate incidences of communal riots before the independence and after it. But this organized attacks against people is more shameful and heinous. Why should innocent people die? Why should people be bumped off just as numbers? Oh, we got 25 of yours! How was that?!! Wait till we get 30 of yours. How long will this go on? What is most chilling is the apathy and aloofness we have about the blasts that happen in our city. People are so distant when they talk about it. One will typically hear things like ‘abki baar toh sirf 5 dhamaake hue, peechhli baar toh 14 hue the’, ‘ab dekho kahaan hota hai’. It has become a way of life for us. Yesterday, after the blasts, Barkha Dutt was on TV, reporting from GK. She kept talking about the people who must have come to the market to grab a bite or to buy a pair of jeans. Hell, that guy could have been me. I would have been there in GK buying a much needed pair of jeans, had I not felt too lazy to walk around after lunch. It’s chilling. Its shit scary and but more than that it makes me angry as hell.

What exactly will it take for us, as a society and a nation, to wake up and do something concrete about fighting terrorism and suppression. Nobody has the right to take the lives of common folk, be it hindu extremists or islamic radicals. They are fooling themselves with their ideas of jihad and ramrajya. Why should we pay the price? Its time we did something, its time our government shed its cowardly please-all-and-keep-ruling policy and sock the extremists right where it hurts the most.

Paisa Vasool

Ever realised that cinema halls are a great place to catch up on all the latest ringtones and all the happening gossip? I mean, whats wrong with people?? Why don’t they have simple public place propriety??? Okay, three sentences ending with a question mark. But seriously why don’t they shut the fuck up???? Another one ending with a question mark and yeah, I finally used the f word in my blog. But these people get on my nerve so much I can’t help it. There I am, spending as much money as the person next to me, to have my unadulterated cinema experience. But the person sitting around me always has other plans for sure. Somewhere in the middle of the film, a girl’s phone rings around me. I know its a girl because she picks it up, (c’mon that’s what mobile phones are for no matter where you are, yaar!), and then goes on to tell Rahul on the other side of the phone that she is watching a ‘good’ film with Chetan. And when she is done with Rahul, she turns around to Chetna, her girlfriend sitting next to her and they have a good laugh. You naughty girl, that’s what we call ‘Ek teer se do sheekar’ in hindi. You, my bright friend not only made your ‘guy’ jealous of a crossdresser sitting next to you, but successfully disrupted our film too. But then c’mon, somebody’s having fun. And if I am at all uncivil enough to ask them to talk softly ( I’d be a moron to take away their democratic right and ask them to shut up), either they go, okay(giggle-giggle), yes (like we mean it) or a plain ‘what’s-your-problem-i-paid-for-my-ticket-too-dude’ look which you can’t miss even in the dark cinema hall.

And if they are not talking on the phone, people talk amongst themselves. Somewhere down the line, they decide the film is not engrossing enough but then hey, they’ve paid for the ticket too, so what do they do? Simple, they catch up on gossip. And if that’s not enough, some go ahead and do the ‘cool’ things like throwing popcorns at each other. Its so disheartening to see that people don’t know their film. They just come to catch a flick. Once I was watching Dev, a Govind Nihalani directed, Amitabh starrer. A family which obviously ventured into the hall expecting a full blown amitabh movie got a surprise when they found out that it wasn’t exactly what they came in for. But they didn’t lose heart. So while the prosecution scene was happening on screen, the 8 year old of the family decided to recite a poem. He faltered at some point but his loving mother right on time corrected him. And the father? He must have dozed off. One happy family there.

Another time we were watching Mystic River, a poignant film about a father looking for his daughter’s murderer. Again there again was a gang who would talk non stop and their phones kept ringing through out the film, which they kind of stopped after some of us asking them to shut. And then in the film, a phone rang and pat one of the kids says, ‘ab usko band karne ke liye bolo’ and all of them laughed their heart out. You are too funny, man!.

Another time, another film. Monster, a woman serial killer’s story. A group of college kids, who came into the hall expecting a horror film, were so disappointed that one of them says aloud, ‘she is not a monster, she is a bitch!. And good time was had by all.

But jokes apart. Why people do this to others? How can they be so insensitive? Why don’t people learn some etiquette? Is it too much to ask?

What's in a name?

This is another post on me. Yeah, I am self obsessed. But I think it’s not just me, others are obsessed with me too. They can’t get enough of me. How else would you define the numerous names I have been adorned with over the years? We all give each others names, some in zest, some to just pull somebody's leg. Whatever be the reason, we just love calling each other names. Like my copy partner Anshumani is forever been ‘Ladiz’ to me!! A name coined by Nima, our boss, as she was the only ‘lady’ in our group. And then our friend Anirban, who we call ‘Baadi’(Bengali for home) because at 5.30-6 in the evening he would want to go back home, which is the utmost luxury you ask for in advertising. He eventually did go back home( Anirban is back in Calcutta). Mihir is Manchu(rian) Chanchu for his love of Chinese food. Biswajit is called Khecha, god knows why. Enough of you people. This is my blog. Let’s get back to my favourite subject.

So yeah, I have been called so many names, I thought I’ll list some down. The most common is mota-motay, take your pick, no need to explain why I am called that. Then Rohit coined the name Burger for me, which became big mac and now maharaja mac, which people love. Do I love it too? Does it really matter?? Kanishka calls me a Barrel, and a Big Slab Of Meat. Tarannum thinks I am The Thing of Fantastic Four. Not exactly flattering. But then…

But of all the names that I have been called by, the one I find most creative is given by Marina, an Anglo Indian receptionist at my last office in Calcutta. She called me PHATNOM. I love this one. Makes me sound like a superhero.

Peeping Tom, Pinky and Harry

Just when you think that it can’t get any better (or worse or perverse), the reality TV scene in India has taken a whole new turn with a new show on Star called The Moment of Truth. It’s an American ‘reality’ show where a person is asked the most intimate questions about his or her life. Prior to the show, the contestant is hooked up to a polygraph and asked more than 50 questions. Without knowing the results of the polygraph, he or she is asked 21 of those same questions again on the program, each becoming progressively more personal in nature. The questions vary, increasing in difficulty and degree of personal nature of the questions. Sample this, “Have you in all these years of your marriage ever cheated on your wife?” or this, “Have you gambled away any of your kids’ college fund?” Sometimes, a "surprise guest" - such as an ex-partner or a good friend - will come on the stage and ask a particularly difficult question. The more you answer the more you go on winning and the jackpot amount is $500,000, which no one, by the way, has won so far. You can imagine how popular the show is that we have it beamed in India now.

We humans are voyeuristic and we, the Indians, have forever been a pretty nosey and voyeuristic society. From the mundane “who’s daughter is going out with whom” to more serious nosey business, we just think it’s our right to know. The idea of ‘private space’ was never there. It still is not. No wonder the reality TV format with its camera shoved into people’s bedrooms works wonders in our country. Be it an adventurous Roadies or the very stupid, very perverse Splitsvilla, where 2 losers get to ‘dump’ girls on their way to choosing the ultimate girl for them (though it’s a different thing that the girls on the show are no better) to song and dance competitions to the Indian version of Stand Up, reality TV is there on all channels.

Another reason for the popularity of reality based programs is that anybody, be it a post office clerk from Jabalpur or an automobile workshop owner in Jalandhar can be on TV and have his 15 minutes of fame. I had read somewhere that each of us have our Oscar speech. Reality based programmes gives people an opportunity to read that out to the world. Reality TV churns out celebrities every week, every episode. People come on TV, they sing and dance, and if that doesn’t work, they cry and do everything in the world to garner support and sympathy. Perverse, you might say, but it’s working. Contestants find a launching pad, people get their voyeurism satiated and a sense of pride that their vote made the contestant win (no matter what the reason for voting, no matter how good or deserving the contestant actually is) and channels laugh all the way to their bank.

Pornography is the biggest form of voyeurism. In the eighties the porn industry fought and adapted and eventually boomed manifolds on the internet. So now, a Jenna Jameson ends up fighting for attention with an aunty from Lajpat Nagar thanks to the MMS craze. People want ‘live’ action, they want to know what’s happening in their stars lives, or even in the lives of others. The more we become insulated and isolated as a society, the more we want to voyuer into the other people’s lives. We might not be friends with our neighbour but we surely would love to anonymously be privy to what’s going on with them. What more it even gives us a chance to simulate their action, control their fate, however much of a make-belief control it actually might be. And Reality TV provides us with that opportunity. Call it perverse, intrusive, entertaining, immoral whatver you may, but one thing is for sure that Reality TV is here and it is here to stay.

Jaya He!

Words fail me. A cynic that i am, i didn't think i would see this day. Well, F#@* me!!

India wins it's first Olympic gold ever in individual performance. What an amazing feeling. What a moment!! It's so overwhelming to hear our National Anthem on the international podium, and to see the tricolour hoisted higher than other flags. Thanks, Abhinav Bindra.

I am a believer again. And a little greedy as well. One of my wishes is to watch India play world cup football final one day and sing our National Anthem. I'd die a happy man if i drop dead the next moment.

Thanks again Abhinav. A heartiest pat for your achievement before the Cola and Eye care and other such people corrupt you and turn you into a media circus.

You can watch the moment here

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8GT42jMdgZo