The curious incident of the boy in the night time

Warning: may contain ingenuous stereotyping

About a month ago, I had occasion to attend a Sindhi wedding of a former colleague. If memory serves me right, this was my first North Indian wedding after my post-hOsh sambhaalanaa (someone has to invent a proper English synonym for this phrase). Previous to that I had only done the Tamil/Maharashtrian/generic ceremonies, so I couldn't help but shiver at the possibility of being placed in the midst of Hum aapke hain kaun or Monsoon Wedding. But at the apparent insistence of the groom, it was a more subdued affair, and as it happened we didn't quite participate in the hardcore religious rites.

The problem at such ceremonies that gives me the creeps is the insistence of having to dance. Martin Henderson could take some tips from me in this cross-cultural shock. It simply isn't in my blood to shed inhibition and give windmill-impersonations. I am used to sleepy & distinguished looking mamas in their silk vEshTiis and maamis discussing pa.TTu puDavais in mellow voices. We conduct weddings, in comparison to our northern brethren, in almost funereal tones. It would give me quite a shock to see a beloved aunt doing the latest disco number. But North Indian shaadis aren't so repressive, which is fine by me. As long as they leave me alone. (Side note: when invited to "northie" weddings, people like me do one of two things: (a) they, being in a place where no maami is within a 300 km radius, let their hair down and produce the most hilarious leg-shaking routines known to the animal kingdom, or (b) they try and blend into the background waiting for the dinner queues to plunge into).

But this is not about me. This is about every Sindhi mother's worst nightmare. A sort of "Rosemary's baby" for the Ramchandanis.

'Twas a pre-wedding ring ceremony. The night was clear and pleasant. Among great festivity, the rings were exchanged between the beaming groom & bride. Aha! What was this? Sections of a floor beside the stage started to light up. I don't know what the technical term for them is, but squares of light in different colours went red-green-yellow, indicating that the dance floor was open for the taking. Also my cue to make myself scarce. From a distance we observed. People were yet getting warmed up and were generally milling around. Which is when the action (or lack of it as we shall see) began.

Every other wildlife programme on Animal Planet consists of mommy birds teaching their young to fly and lionesses expounding on the art of swatting deer to attentive cubs. One lady in the party evidently had corresponding ideas. Her young heir was cajoled onto the empty floor to get some basics in the long tradition in the performing arts. She had a camcorder to record his first dance steps. What happened next would astound all of us.

You see, the kid simply refused to budge an inch. It would be fair to say that the Rock of Gibraltar ceded its #1 spot to him. Mum attributed it to a nascent stage fear that few in the khaandaan had exhibited before. The music began and soon picked up a tempo that had even my legs tapping. But our young hero moved not. He could've been method acting for a role as the Fevicol Dabbaa, that's how firmly he stood his ground. Mum shut the 'corder and came over closer. Words were said but to no avail.

An elderly relative, who had no doubt seen this rare strain of non-performance in the past, came over. Together they tried to move his little legs, but the child on his own refused to generate any self-locomotion. Mum sighed and her hanky hid her feelings. They tried a mass movement to dispel the lack of disco spell. Girls filled the floor and jived away to the latest hits. But our boy stood beside the turning deck - immovable, unyielding, with magnetic feet on iron floor. He stood like that for 15 minutes, fully concentrating on preserving his inertia, which was obviously dear to him.

Mum was a picture of stoicism. But her mind raced. O God, how could this happen to him? It must've been something on the husband's side, some latent streak that had been hushed up at the time of the marriage. How would she survive this embarrassment? As she pondered on this, all around her, balding grandads & toothless grannies along with mums & dads who'd rocked discotheques in their youth and kids of all descriptions rushed past her to display jhaTakaas & maTakaas of total enjoyment.

It isn't quite clear what happened next. I'd like to think that Mum went back to the nursing home and demanded to know if there'd been a switch. If any Tamil Iyer moms near the Agra area are puzzled by their little son's eagerness to shake a leg at the drop of a hat, they may want to get in touch with her.

Selection of the fittest

Wheels turn, time flies, runs flow, wickets fall. It hasn't happened in a long while, definitely not as frequently as it used to, but now Indian cricket finds itself in a spot of bother that wouldn't be so alien to it.

Scribes, especially those inclined to emotional descriptions of the previous day's play, will be calling for refills of hemlock. Obit composers will turn their attention to the sports pages for a change. The public will exchange glances of "told-you-so". Nothing like a mortifying loss to energise a mythic population of "knowledgeable cricket fans".

Irrespective of what happens at the Wankhede, most will classify the current series as a debacle. Like the all out attack philosophy of Steve Waugh has been swapped for a less in-your-face but a more smiling efficiency by the visitors, this series could finally spell doom for the home captain's long held doctrine of selection policy, viz. to retain players at all costs. I have always had my reservations against an obdurate philosophy of holding on to players in a team even if they were out of form. However, this is not to suggest that the principle has been a failure, only that it doesn't apply anymore as much as it used to.

Undoubtedly Ganguly's biggest rules has been to back people that he believes have talent. And back he did, to the hilt, often abrasively. The successes of Harbhajan Singh, Sehwag ,Yuvraj & Zaheer in the one-dayers at various times have inspired some of India's most famous wins, and can be rightly attributed to an attitude of confidence undoubtedly derived from the captain's beliefs.

An upward graph had meant that the idea was working, and Ganguly seems to have had what very few captains before him had been able to both demand and obtain: teams entirely of his own. But the principle came with its pitfalls. This seems to have worked best with youngsters of appreciable talent, but less and less with settled players. When a player has had a bright track record & reasonable experience, he is expected to shoulder the burdens that the fickle mistress of form provides. However, with this team, an inverse of the policy, i.e. dropping a player on poor form came to be equated with a vote of no-confidence against the player, instead of merely recognising the need for playing the best in-form players at the team's disposal. A case in the point was the overlooking of Kaif in the first Test at Bangalore inspite of clear indications in the previous months that he was probably the only player striking it in the middle. Repeatedly persisting with Zaheer Khan has meant being a bowler short for a while, though his return to what looks like some form is again a nod to Ganguly's ideas. Every critic atleast has to doff his hat to the strength of the man's faith.

Just how many out-of-form players can be accomodated in the team is a question to ponder. The hard decisions must be taken, for Test matches should not be fought simply on good HR policies. The failure to recognise the lack of winnability has hurt a team that has been lucky or has had the depth (whichever way you look at it) for a couple of individuals to discover an unlikely ejection seat to be rid of peril in the past.

The position that there were too many players out of touch is doubly weak: for not only do you concede that there were too many men in a squad who were unlikely to make a difference, you also reveal a lack of bench strength. Interestingly, India have not suffered this in the bowling department, a traditional Achilles heel. More by fortune than by design, injuries & lack of form has thrown up a regular pool of fairly competent pace bowlers. Kartik was able to fill in, but another spinner would have been tough to nab. The batting, with all its resplendence in the last few years, has in some ways been its worst enemy, for there has hardly been the need to blood newer players. Plus given the selection doctrine, out of form players were shielded until they got back to producing the sweet sound with the meat of the bat.

Indian selectorial politics were a little dormant, atleast in the public eye for some while. I'm afraid that the dice is now loaded back in favour of the wise men from Indian cricket's own cardinal points, and that Ganguly will find his authority, if not his captaincy, eroded considerably. A free-speaking, not to mention openly vituperative, Kirti Azad has fired his shots aimed ostensibly at the 'keeper (while at the same time being quite reluctant to answer questions on the early part of his terms). Thus revealing that hardly anything has changed when it comes to politics & cricket. It may be a little flippant to say that Ganguly has been "Pawared", but if the Maharashtra strongman has lost two political battles in quick succession, the Maharaja from Behala would do well to watch out.

A new coat of paint is usually preferred to hide cracks in structures, and that is likely to happen at Mumbai. But will the behemoth that is Indian cricket pull again in the same direction as it did for easily the most successful era in its history, or will we go around in circles, big or small, in a way reminiscent of what until the other day seemed the Dark Ages?

Let me say no

Some bloggers have this "mood" indicator on their blogs. If I had one, this post would be preceded by a note saying "extremely pissed off" mixed with large doses of "fuming".

One of the biggest weapons that one can have in the social armoury is the ability to say no, whether to refuse or to reject. For people are forever being taken advantage of. I find that the nudniks who put me in the position of having to say no vehemently usually have one large cannon firing - they are adamant in their badgering and they think it as merely being persistent. It seems to constitute the major chunk of their negotiation strategy - pester, and infinitely so.

To which the pestered will usually cave in, not possessing the same obduration as the blistering barnacle. This is where we err. If it comes down to a battle of wills, then we must learn to match their staying power. We give up merely because we want to be rid of the nuisance (several requests turn into precisely this, and no words must be minced here). The opposing party takes this as further proof of his/her persuasion, which is precisely why I think one must relinquish all sha.rm-O-hayaa and slug it out. Which is a policy I had some success at over the last couple of years, for earlier I found myself doing too many things I should never have agreed to, just to please or most often, to avoid "straining of relations".

But there still remain some who cannot be wished away like this. In the above policy, you have to risk losing some amount of politeness. "Be firm" is alright in books. So to some people, you cannot always easily turn your back. You know them somewhat or their feelings will be hurt or some third person you know will take this refusal unpleasantly etc. What I cannot get is the inability of these educated and sophisticated people to accept refusals. How do they know what is good for you or what you ought to do? Really, these social niceties cannot be taught. They must learn that getting someone to agree to them after badgering them hardly counts as a victory. Half the time, the end in question is to put up appearances. I say that even if it was good for me, I wouldn't mind missing out if I didn't want to do it.

It's all fine telling me to learn how to say no, but who will teach these people to learn to accept a "no"? They push the limits, but we idiots cannot - we have to maintain proprieties, including those that they have not. Add emotional blackmail to the pot. You force us to lie as a result, and every time in the future, I'll avoid you like the plague. A more frank world would be less socially amenable, but I'll vote for that today. The only people who are allowed to push us to do something that they think would be good for us would be close relatives & friends. And even they cannot do it all the time. Why don't we listen, really listen to the guy screaming "no" silently!

Thus ends intelligible, general, semi-cathartic rant.

roman X Is The spanish Bow

Over the last four weeks, a very curious phenomenon was recorded by disbelieving career counsellors. They found that more children had said they wanted to be "orthopaedists" than known before, marking the highest percentage increase for any "dream profession" in India since 1974 (where the vocation "angry young man" was popular). Not surprising, for Indian superstars have long influenced not only career choices, but also knowledge of the human anatomy. If there ever was such an award, the Gray's Prize for Improving Knowledge of the Body would go to Sachin Tendulkar.

If this award had been there for a few years, then Sachin would have won this award more than once, surely back (pun intended?) in 1999. Such is the power of the Indian star, whatever field he may be in. Sometimes, I feel that Warholian theories of "15 minutes of fame" must also extend to body parts. But on reflection, I find that, like in life, some have more fame than others.

Cricket fans will be familiar, to the point of being extremely pally, with the likes of the hamstring and the groin. Some may even boast of more than a nodding acquaintance with the webbing (when, employing a "tennis" prefix as is fashionable, it can become the "Ivanisevic" webbing). The keenest may sneer at these and hold intimacy of the "rotator cuff" as a distinction between the pundit and the rest (whom he considers part of the crowd of hoodlums who're there for the bottle throwing). But it truely takes the star to popularise an anatomical adjunct to front page news.

You don't believe me? Oh, you're one of those who wants stats, I see. I'll give you one, Vitalstatistix. Google's Zeitgest reported a sudden increase in search results containing the word "tennis" in the last month. Only Maria Sharapova's Wimbledon crown in July motivated more numbers of Web searches this year (which gives the ITF something to think about - now they need cricketers to make tennis popular). Hardly anyone knows what the tennis elbow is (and I'm one of them), but it's become the in-thing, the prefix of choice. There may be nothing official about it, and it certainly has no feel-good factor associated with it, but it just caught on nevertheless.

Among past hall-of-famers has been the good old Sachin "back". Beckham's something too. How about Vajpayee's knee? Going back about 20 years, Amitabh (and Puneet) made the mid-riff popular, and any kid born in the 60s can still describe the technical differences between the spleen and the diaphragm. Poor Ricky Ponting has to come to India one Test early to get his thumb some footage for nobody gave it a damn in Hobart.

Ending as usual with a few dirty puns, this blog makes no bones about the fact that the print world merely makes hay while the pun shines. A column has to elbow its way among all competition in a 5-mile radius to tickle the funny bone, which cannot be done as a knee-jerk reaction. Armed to the teeth, it has to muscle its way into your eyeballs but will at the end, desist from being the proverbial kabaab-me.n-haDDi between the doctor and his patient.

This blogger sincerely apologises for making humorous mileage of other people's misfortunes, and wishes the celebrities and their specialists well. He knows how they really feel, having suffered a debilitating sporting injury to the right index finger playing Minesweeper, and merely wants to cheer them up

MMI-V: the book

Went and got my copy of Mastermind India Five. Part of the interest is to see what questions from my set weren't asked during the round (due to paucity of time). Also, I can catch up on the one episode that I missed out on, even when it was repeated.

Also, a happy memoir with the names of several friends/acquaintances. MMI-5 curiously had so many people I knew, so it'll be a good reminder.

Why you need not use IE

First things first: this is not an anti-Microsoft tirade. Notice that I don't say you *shouldn't* use IE. There are no moral arguments being made here. This is simply and plainly, a recommendation for switching to alternatives, or more specifically, to spread the word about Mozilla's Firefox browser.

This isn't about displaying tech savviness. I know several people in the software profession who do not use Firefox. I find that on most occasions this is because of plain ignorance. Which is fine. For I'm willing to bet that most people would switch to Firefox from MS Internet Explorer if they knew what was different. So this is a small effort to acquaint people with Firefox and giving you the knowledge to make a choice.

The Help of Firefox has a very clever little page listing the differences (of which many are improvements really) between Firefox & IE. Here are some of them, to which I have added other points:

* Tabbed Browsing: Instead of opening a separate browser window for each site you want to visit, you can open multiple sites within the same window and tab between them. This is the one major difference for most users.

* Pop-up Window Controls: Lets you allow or suppress both popup and popunder windows.. Go back to plain IE after using this for a while and feel the difference.

* Download Manager: Manages all your downloading for you.

* Extensions: Once you are into Firefox full-time, you can choose different extensions (that people contribute) that do a variety of little things. One such is Adblock - something you can so train as to do away with a variety of java/shockwave/image ads. My Rediff or Cricinfo views are now less cluttered as a result. Another popular extension is the ability to add searches for a variety of sites, such as Google | IMDB | Wikipedia etc.

* Searching: A search textbox appears as part of the browser - you don't have to get a Google toolbar (whose privacy issues can be a little discomforting)

* Clean & light: The interface is neat and simple, and you can make it more complicated only if you wish. It also seems "light" (an intangible quality that is somewhat akin to a similar property of one's stomach). It also seems faster

* Easy to install

* Customizable: i.e. make it behave the way you want to. Themes are often available that change the appearance of the browser

* Relatively secure: Considering that miscreants prefer going after IE vulnerabilities (of which a lot has been said in the past). Is open source (which can be a double-edged sword), so if you believe in that philosophy, even more reason.

* Goodies: Hidden here and there (ok, I added this to make a list of 10 :-)). But it does provide a way to get support for RSS Feeds and more. And you have multi-platform versions. And if you have Firefox, type "about:mozilla" in your location bar and hit enter.

Now even the most ardent proponent of IE would not be able to wave away most of these improvements. You can get add-on *ware that provide these additional features on top of IE, but with Firefox, you get them all together. Plus why use a browser that steadfastly refuses to provide these cool features de rigeur ? In my opinion, the only reason most people use IE is because it comes bundled with their copy of Windows. Awareness of alternatives would, I think, definitely lead to users switching over. Perhaps you could choose Opera, but it has ads in its free version.

There is no doubt that most Windows based users still use IE - stats from websites (look at this blog's stats link if you want a quick comparison) clearly show that. But provided access & information, there is no reason why people wouldn't switch. If you still don't want to move over, you might as well turn up at Wimbledon today in long sleeved shirts and trousers with a wooden racket. Or opt for a hand-cranked Ford only because it came free with the house, when you could be driving the latest SUV which is also free. Now sadly, several web content providers put out stuff that is IE-friendly (which in many cases is inimical to other browsers). In that case, it's not really your fault. Even software organisations show such myopia in their in-house software tools, which really is unfortunate. But this is no longer the prevalent landscape (or so one would like to think).

This reminds me of the debates between Infinite Rebounds & Direct-and-Passing: almost anyone who has experienced the former will prefer it over the antiquated version, for the disadvantages far outweigh the advantages. Still, several people still stick to D&P in some sort of extremist zeal, which I find puzzling. I'm afraid I'm digressing there, but unless someone can prove the efficacy of the D&P over IR, and show that IE is better than Firefox, I will remain opponents of both.

It comes down to inertia in the end. Break it. Switch to Firefox. Give it a try.

shEr-é-Hindustaan

It was hot. Heat with pincers. We had just bounced our way to Fatehpur Sikri, one time capital of the Mughals. The physical discomfort was nothing compared to what was to follow. As soon as we arrived within 300m of the steps to the Buland Darwaaza, we were hounded by locals wanting to guide us through the ruins. Even after repeated refusals, increasingly point-blank and rude inspite of ourselves, we continued to be followed and pursued like some renegade governor was by the emperor's men. It was as close to non-contact assault as possible. Sadly, a manifestation of the desparate economic conditions of the area, but in that heat when people are so relentless, then you lose your head a little and don't mind not being historically educated.

Our pursuers finally tired of us and went off in search of the mandatory Japanese/NRI tourists. A little round of the inner courtyard later which consisted of fighting off sellers of chaadar, dOr & assorted memorabilia, and a visit to Salim Chisti's Dargah, we deposited ourselves by the shade watching the wheels of unorganised tourism roll by. It was then that this happened:

Cast of characters: Sridhar, Anupam and moi. Little boy and tinier-almost-infinitesmal brother.

INT. By the courtyard. S-A-M are sitting, a little pensively.

L.B.: Saab, shEr sunOgE? Sirf paa.nch rupayE.
S-A-M (blinking, a little disbelief at what they just heard.): Kyaa? Nahi.n, nahi.n.
L.B.: Me.n nahi.n saab, yeh (points to T-A-I-Bro) sunaa_Egaa.
S-A-M (now beginning to be amused at this novel sales pitch): Eh? Yeh? Yeh kyaa shEr sunaa_Egaa! Nahi.n chaahiyE
L.B. (pulling out the secret weapon in his marketing armoury): Saab, sun liiji_E saab. Yeh dil dhaDakaadegaa!

At which point we just convulsed into laughter!

Postscript
Despite that fabulous USP, we didn't take up the offer. Later, we were hunted down by many mini-wannabe-Ghalibs, but the first one was easily the most memorable...

U.P.S
Seems like a lot of bloggers are recounting conversations these days!

On sEvai and the little pleasures of home cuisine

I don't even know why I want to write this post, but I somehow just had to record my appreciations for the relatively obscure food item called sEvai. Also, I guess non-Tams haven't really heard, let alone tasted this local preparation, so here is some free education for those who haven't.

I don't know how to define it perfectly: to call it a variety of "noodles" would not convey the correct image, and will in all likelihood led you into a side street. But it is noodle-like in that it's made up of long strands (of rice flour), but it has not the thickness or the discrete-ness of the Italian or the Maggi kind. These strands tend to bunch up together and please note: we do not slurp them up one by one.

(But before further exploration: is sEvai wholly indigenous to the Tamils? Right now, I assume so.)

Many people may have heard of the iDiyaapam, and many of those many people think that dish is the same as the sEvai. Apparently, that's not true. After a brief and highly technical discussion on the subject with my mother, I came up with one certain fact: they are not the same. There, I'm afraid, we shall have to leave it.

So what is special about this sEvai, the more impatient among you ask. Well, not much if you have epicurean tendencies of the kind who generally tongue-roll your wine before you eat. But usually, it tastes good. For you see, it isn't eaten by itself, but it is mixed with adequate quantities of mOr kuzamb.u (well, no, that doesn't look so good in English transliteration, and yes, we've heard all the "Give me mOr" jokes). Now, for your lexicon, mOr is buttermilk and kuzamb.u, is, ah... well it is like saambaar but not like it as well. To simplify things, it is a "liquid" dish (for want of a better description) and is eaten usually in conjunction with rice. (Now that I've got grammar in, perhaps it is like a verb is to a noun) (Editor: Terrible analogy).

Now the mOr kuzamb.u isn't sweet, but tends towards the sour due to the buttermilk. It has the usual elements to spice it up: mustard seeds, kaDi pattaa, coconut et al. You mix the sEvai up with this kuzamb.u and serve it up with a fried appaLam (not the Lijjat PaapaD types, but the Ambika Appalam types).

But this is not the best part. Now, it takes a lot of effort to prepare the sEvai. That's because the rice flour is prepared into iDli-like cakes, then stuffed down a specific apparatus whose container is then compressed from above by a spiral press to produce the thin strands that the sEvai is made up of. It takes some effort and in our home, it takes two people - one to press down and one to hold the naazi (as it is called) still. Doing enough to produce copious amounts of sEvai takes all evening, so it forms the nightly supper. But you do not eat it all at once.

That's right, you mix the rest of the sEvai and some kuzamb.u up and leave them all night to get familiar. The result is a slightly sour but extremely tasty (vintage & mature, some may say) dish for breakfast. Add a little warm kuzamb.u to unset the dryness, and off you go to the accompaniment of the appaLam crackle. I didn't like this form when I was young, but now I do - it takes some growing up to realise that, I guess.

Because the preparation takes some time to make, sEvai is a once-in-a-while special, atleast at home. There are variants, most popular being a lemon flavour (eaten dry usually) which I mostly detest.

Now I remember why I thought of all this. I dunno if there's anyone in my generation taking notes from their mums to keep this recipe going. As it is, people seemed to show a marked disaffection for anything that takes over 5 minutes to make, so I fear the sEvai is a little doomed. It is a little sad to think that people may not be relishing the taste of this simple dish in a generation's time, so I really hope someone's listening and watching when the sEvai comes swirling out.

Notes:

* A quick web search yielded very few results, of which none had pictures (you'll have to use your imagination). Amudha's Tamil Cooking Page has a recipe, but it says sEvai is the same as the iDiyaapam, so I'm not so sure. As it usually is, the tricks probably vary from home to home.
* For Tamil-readers, a guide to Tamil ITrans is here, non-Tams will mostly not know what to make of the "z" sound, so please collar the nearest language expert.
* Well, this quarter's sEvai has been made, so I have no samples to share.
* No, I don't think this is usually available in hotels.
* No, it's not the same as semiyaa a.k.a semolina
* I don't know how good the instant sEvai versions are
* More aware Tamilians are encouraged to point out the numerous factual inaccuracies or share in some nostalgic mouth-watering activities.

Prejudiced about the Bride

If you think this is a bald attempt to cash in on the seething resentment against Bride and Prejudice, well, you are right :-). I think this episode is providing some very interesting points of interest that I wanted to milk.

First it was BVHK's fist-waving (in full gory detail), then Navneet's lament and now Daemon's first-hand account that led to some speculation in certain quarters that the stomach upset that's kept him down could've been partially caused by the viewing. To cut a long story short, B&P (subtitled: Baap re Baap) is not coming off a hit among blogging circles.

I usually pride myself on having a decent radar that can spot such "turkeys". If you will lend me an ear, I will, in my best Holmesian impression lead you to the "singular" clues that pointed to this earlier in the story:

* NRI interpretations of Punjabi culture (admittedly the only such film that ever worked was Bend it like Beckham - but that's like saying we can always win after following-on)

* The presence of the Anna Kournikova of Indian films (atleast so far): Ms. Rai (not wanting to crib, but frankly, seeing Gurinder Chadha market this film with that as her primary USP was a sign).

* More tellingly, the presence of Meghana Kothari (of whose "cobra dance" I've heard a lot of and believe it has in itself to be be the next big "cult-ic" item - a JaDe item song perhaps). MK who? Remember Prem Aggan (known in some quarters as "Prem Ugh-an")? She played the female lead.

* Several songs by Anu Malik (who claimed here that people were being "completely bowled over by it". He must be a googly bowler).

Ok, enough aimless disparaging. Yes, I haven't seen the film. But seeing the amount of negative reviews, I feel I'm missing out on something. This is definitely the one film that people are going to huddle together and take apart. Even Shobhaa De hates it. That has stoked my curiosity like nothing else.

On a more sombre note - one more lost to the vast vacuous recesses of commercial banality?

More hum-blog

Some more friends who're tapping away at their keyboards:

Abhishek (whom I always forget to link, apologies for the time it's taken :-)
Kunal T (a.k.a the other Kunal, unless if he was the original Kunal)
Nikhil Marathe (regular partner-in-crime and one of the few bloggers I know who blogs in Marathi - tough thing to do given the current posting mechanisms)

The Media & the Moolah

Now that the Indian batsmen are flopping in a way that John Kerry would be partly proud of, the media has decided to get their knives out. Last week, prominent newspapers and TV channels pulled out calculations to see how many runs the big batsmen were making per their salaries. Which I find absolutely disgusting.

Most people appear to be scandalised by the wages the cricketers make, and are annoyed by the numerous ads these players appear in. It's all swept aside when the national team wins, but otherwise more fingers are pointed at income statements than in the IT department. I find it repellent because the cricketers are not salaried employees of the tax-payers; if we give our money to them indirectly, we do so voluntarily by watching the sport and buying products that the companies believe they help to sell. We are welcome to take our interest & our cash elsewhere if we chose. I don't understand what right any T, D & H has to self-righteously wonder if these guys are worth the money they make. The BCCI pays them what it thinks is reasonable, so do the companies whose products they endorse. I understand that there is a national stake in cricket and its interests must be protected, but I don't see these interests being sacrificed by the particular argument of how much money players make. Ultimately, how much money the BCCI makes will depend on how well the team plays. Remember also that cricketers aren't taking money away from other sportsmen, for the corporate rupee will go where the corporates decide.

I wonder how no one asks how filmstars get paid equally obscene (if you consider it that way) amounts for mostly low quality products and most importantly why people don't debate with more fervour the appalling working standards of our political representatives & government servants where indeed it's our money being squandered. Cricketers continue to remain soft targets for the media who get more and more obnoxious each passing year. They like to fuel astronomical expectations and play jealous executioner as well. I'd like each reporter to end his report with the salary he's making, to give me a chance to work out if he's really worth the words-per-rupee he's making, and if not, to make a racket about it.

DD's Comedy Show

Perhaps I was the only one rejoicing at the prospect of Doordarshan bagging telecast rights to the India-Australia Test Series. For this meant the lip-smacking prospect of the most hilarious TV show on earth, Fourth Umpire.

Monty Python would've come up a sorry second against it, the Marx Bros. would've converted to Maoism, and Chaplin would've thrown away his hat & moustache and retire knowing that nothing he could do would match its heights. The regular cast of Charu Sharma in the lead with his two able lieutenants in Atul Wassan and Krish Srikkanth are the only men in the world to possess only funny bones in their body.

When you watch them, prepare to give your tummy a workout. When Krish Srikkanth says "Noe Noe! This yndian team has every chance to win wonly if Billie Bouden would stop pointing to the skie", you marvel at his sense of comic timing. Atul Wassan's counter punches as a sad-faced ex-medium pacer evoke great humour in sharp contrast to "Chika". Charu Sharma is the funny man who plays it straight, raising a laugh with his keen insights on excessive over-ultra happy appealing by the Indians in the face of defeat. His great comedic talents lie in the fact that he keeps an upbeat face even though everyone else would've lost all remaining hair & sliced off both ears at the mindless (actually ribticklingly funny, mind you) drivel churned out in which ever commentary panel he has to anchor. Which also proves that he isn't an incarnation of the tortured Van Gogh.

But as time goes by, the producers of this epic DD show feel the need for change. They take resort in the greatest television tactic of the last ten years by introducing what is colloquially known as the "Sports B@be".

But, as we all are aware, one of the D's in DD stands for "Different"^*. Unlike other channels who like to invite uninformed TV stars or failed movie item girls, DD prefers a considerably-more-ignorant, completely obscure daughter-of-the-soil. Stringent selection consists of getting all the answers to the true-false questions "Is John Wright usually wrong, According to the Bible, Adam bowled a maiden over at the Eden Gardens and A batsman can be declared out if he makes faces at the short-leg fielder" wrong. The duties of the "Sports B@be" in "Fourth Umpire" essentially consists of remembering the names of the co-panelists, the (full) phone number for asking questions and answering trivia teasers, and being able to read from pre-written "ad-lib" notes written in 20-pt size fonts.

Like a nervous batsman making his debut, the latest DD "B@be" was introduced on the fourth day's play, sitting at the corner to the right of Charu. In her anxiety, she forgot the remaining 8 digits of the DD number (luckily Charu remembered this), asked if India should enforce the follow-on (sadly, I'm making this up) and was forced into a false stroke by the DD typist who rendered the trivia question "Which of the following batsmen scored a hundred on debut against India" as "... debut in India".

By far the most important role of the "B@be" is to profess undying optimism in the face of unparalleled devastation. When the scoreboard reads "India needs 353 to win with 1 wicket in hand" and you ask her who will win, she will say India with a fair & lovely smile. That earns her a performance bonus directly proportional to the losing margin. (In fact, one of the earliest known sports "B@bes" assured US field hockey fans that the team would win the 1932 L.A. Olympics clash with the Indians despite being down by a bit)

Thanks to the BCCI, I can look forward to more of the adventures of Charu & the Boys & the Sports B@be in the next three Tests. I pray to God to give the lower orders of both teams enough hydration to pile on 200 runs each so to push each match into its fifth day to enable me to get my daily shot of stomach-churning comedy.

Note: The other D is usually perceived to stand for "Distressing" among other possibilities

RGV & Pune

Not for the trivially disinclined

I don't know what affiliation Ram Gopal Varma has with Pune, but there have been quite a few references to this city, mostly in passing, in films directed or produced by him. Recall Kaun (I forget the exact reference, but I remember Manoj Bajpai mention it), Ek Hasina Thi (Sarika Vartak's parents are in Pune), Ab Tak Chappan (Sadhu Agashe is given an errand to do there). Now Vaastushastra's trailers obliquely refer to the city in a shot of a milestone.

AdSense question

This one is for fellow "Blogger" users. I'm sure, like me, you would have seen an invite to add AdSense. I wonder if anyone's tried to add this? Any potential problems etc?

Faux News - 8

Faux News bulletin

(You know it's time if it's faux pas nine!)

Page Three does not cut it with paper recyclers
By our Media correspondent

In a strange controversy, paper recyclers in the city are nonplussing sellers with their discriminatory paper rates. The neighbourhood "raddee" shop will now offer you much lower rates for city supplements of a certain newspaper.

Traditionally, paper recyclers offer greater rates on English newspapers over vernacular editions because of better paper quality. However, recently the Pricing committee of the city recyclers association has decided to offer lowered rates on English papers that contain popular city supplements which feature "Page Three" type news. Speaking exclusively to this correspondent, Mr. K. A. Agaji (spokesman for the association) said this was because of fierce opposition from the "Bhel & Other Puris Organisation" whose members were principal consumers of used newspapers. Apparently, the BOPO finds it difficult and embarassing to sell bhel and chana in cones adorned with sizzling snaps of the latest "item" actresses, for families in turn are their main consumer base. These families at the end of the marketing chain are averse to corrupting their children with the same, and the whole shockwave has rippled up to strike at the rates of the "raddeewaalaas".

When contacted, the PRO for the newspaper was nonchalant, claiming that it didn't have any readers in the bhel-eating segment and anyway, their faithful readers preferred to cut out the supplement ("collector's issues" as he described it) instead of selling it where it would be fingered (sic) by some greasy purveyor of cheap snacks. He also offered to run this very interesting story on their First Page with other human interest stories such as the model who sacrificed her all to bring back the trend of bell-bottoms with polka-dots and the TV actress who discovered a cheaper alternative to glycerine.

Right now, the middle class seems the most miffed, but as Mrs. Teena Paan, a faithful reader, put it, she'd wait for direction from the popular celebrities in their responses to the weekly poll on such issues.

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Click here for a free look at the earlier editions.

Marathi cinema looks up

Two Marathi films, Shwaas and Saat_chya Aat Gharaat, have set the box office registers (atleast in Pune) ringing for the last few months, and have produced a possibility of urban Marathi cinema finding commercial stability on its own. This is highly welcome of course, for the film fraternity here boasts of some good actors, technicians & creators, but that hasn't always coalesced into cinema that is both critically acclaimed as well as monetarily viable. These two films, however, have threatened to change all of that.

One may argue that in Amol Palekar's Anaahat began the upward trend. Like it, these two films also benefited from tremendous word-of-mouth publicity (Shwaas now is springboarding on its awards and Oscar entry status). All three films had a certain boldness in their story content that merits applause, for they also boast of good production values and above average quality acting. For Marathi cinema, this is a huge break from the inspid family-sentimentality and slapstick-rural-comedies that tended to plague most plots. The makers of these new films are now taking advantage of a "multiplex" crowd that wants to see alternative cinema in their language, and are able to use the depth of artists that the theatre circuit has always supported.

Incidentally, both films are set in Pune, of which in Saat_chya Aat Gharaat this is a key (background) element of the plot. Directed by Sanjay Surkar, it has an ensemble cast that has managed to use the next generation of actors. If you've been in Pune for about 4-5 years (or any other city going through a similar transition), you'll instinctively react to the idea of the film. Using a real-life incident as its core, it explores which to me has always been the most important dilemma in Pune over the last couple of years - the overt frictional strife because of westernization and the "new age" urban lifestyle that accompanies big paypackets in the white-collar industries. Strife not only among generations, but among people in different strata. A latent animosity against the more hedonistic aspects of such a life comes to the fore when incidents like the ILS ragging incident take place. Pune is churning and that Saat_chya Aat Gharaat is about a certain viewpoint in the middle of this.

Shwaas (dir: Sandeep Sawant) has been commented upon in length by Gaurav & Sarika, so I'll throw in some other aspects. There was a certain singlemindedness in the story that few successful Indian movies are able to demonstrate. No songs were thought to be necessary (Saat_chya Aat Gharaat sadly fell prey to this), minimalism was in play in the length of the story and in small points such as the faceless wife of Dr. Sane (btw, they portrayed Puneri doctors/clinics brilliantly). The expansiveness was reserved for photographing the Konkan coast in all its glorious dimensions, again something that is relevant to the story. Getting real nurses/doctors etc. is something that worked. Interestingly, Ashwin Chitale, the actor who won the Best Child Actor award still seems to have no comprehension of what all this acclaim means, as a recent interview of his displayed.

This is a good time to be making Marathi films for the people are receptive and the financiers may be more inclined than ever before. Since there seems to be no active media funnel for receiving news on upcoming films, we don't know what lies in store in the immediate future, but the opportunity is knocking loudly right now.

Spot the difference

man/woman, young/old, patriot/alien, earthling/ET, north indian/south indian, introvert/extrovert, urban/rural, brahmin/non-brahmin, upper-caste/lower-caste, left-wing/right-wing, msft/unix, democrat/republican, hindu/muslim, mumbaikar/outsider, tall/short, fat/slim, rich/poor, lata/asha, rafi/kishore, vegetarian/non-vegetarian, sane/crazy, hot/cold, shia/sunni, protestant/catholic, shaivite/vaishnavite, iyer/iyengar, indian/pakistani, israeli/palestinian, irish/british, rahman/ilaiyaraja, kapil/gavaskar, wasim/waqar, pele/maradona, man utd./arsenal, ferrari/rest, gandhi/viruddha gandhi, secular/communal, savarkar/anti savarkar, mgr/karunanidhi, karunakaran/nayanar, sachin-can-win-matches/no-he-can't, TOI/indian express, clever/stupid, beautiful/ugly, manager/programmer, editor/staffer, sweets/savouries, hindustani/carnatic, western/desi, aishwarya/sushmita, latif/moin, aamir/shah rukh, kamal/rajni, labour/tory, disraeli/gladstone, 0/1, analog/digital, software/hardware, development/testing, c++/java, blue-collar/white-collar, odd/even, dmk/aiadmk, nehru/patel, nixon/kennedy, true/false, up/down, left/right, left-hand-drive/right-hand-drive, melody/rhythm, matter/anti-matter, happy/sad, many-more-of-this/complete-or-less...

Which minority do I belong to?

Swades - the soundtrack

Much awaited, but I wasn't in town on the day of the audio release. Came back, looked around in the morning, but all shops still closed. Alas. Evening it took to get hold of a CD. Nice cover (T-Series!!). Even better inlay card, with extensive credits and full lyrics. Inserted with anticipation. Nine tracks! Liked some on first hearing. Lukewarm towards the rest. Great lyrics! Second round. The familiar "growing" feeling. Goosebumps felt with some interludes. Listening repeatedly since to get a complete feel. Settled opinion now.

The trailers were very interesting for Ashutosh Gowariker's Swades, especially among those who had been keeping an eye out. With a repeat offering of the Gowariker-Akhtar-Rahman-nationalism combination in store, most were inevitably looking for Lagaan - Redux. Sadly, that hangover is going to influence people's opinions, and given the choice of singers & song themes, that sentiment will not go away.

I found it curious that with this album, different people have reacted positively to different clutches of songs. Also that most have recalled whiffs of older ARR songs, but - and this is interesting - not every recalls the same songs! Perhaps, with a canon that is getting larger each year, this is inevitable. However, this is not to suggest that the score is repetitive. Anyway, let me plunge into some personal reactions to the 7 vocal tracks and 2 instrumental pieces.

Swades is an album that you can soak yourself in. It has a consistent texture (if that is the right word), for which I would primarily credit Gowariker. A music director cannot impose his will on a film's foreground score and contrast it with the possibilities in the script. In some sense Swades is to Lagaan what Lakshya was to DCH, in that the two scripts had (seem to have) music needs that people can (and they're usually dying to) draw parallels between. The lyrics are a huge draw, with Javed Akhtar being in top form in most songs. I say this because of the relative lack of clichés and the richly evocative words, to which ARR has responded well.

Yeh Tara Woh Tara is the pleaser that the trailers have chosen to launch from. A lone strumming begins and is followed by Udit Narayan. A short "mukhaDaa" and a long, early interlude isn't accompanied by the full-blown song, rather there is quiet but rich evocation with dulcet tones. We then get into more heavy strings ( strings & the flute are a preponderance in this album). A little bit of Navin on the flute, quiet philosophical optimism continues, and suddenly! - trademark higher-pitch voice, of a little boy (Vignesh, sounding better than Udit Junior has in the past). This is a lengthy song, and the lyrics on the inlay cover are a good accompaniment. At times, Udit gets a little too saccharine for me, an old failing. Third voice, small girl (Pooja), and now all in part-chorus. Crescendo follows soon.

It isn't surprising to hear people invoke "Mitwa" (with the singer, the strumming, the "type" of song). Somehow, I never felt that even once till date. I liked this instantly, without almost any reservation.

Sa.nwariya is all Alka Yagnik's, and reminded me of her efforts in The Legend of Bhagat Singh. A single, fleet-footed beat accompanies her almost throughout, which sometimes lapses (in my opinion) to a more conventional North Indian beat in the "a.ntaraa"s. It's a really quiet song, with female harmony filling in the spaces. Interludes are quite pleasing. It is one of those that needs some time to grow, but will never attempt to grab you by the collar.
I remember a Lagaan interview, where Yagnik said she liked words like "Goriya/Sa.nwariya" in "O Rii ChOrii". Well, she got to repeat that.

Yu.n Hi Chalaa is the other song doing the rounds of the TV promos. "Lighthearted road" song is pretty much how I label it. It's got a lot of engaging strings and acoustic guitars that strum away in the near background. Rahman chooses to go in with three voices (Hariharan,Udit,Kailash Kher), though we see only two on screen in the trailers. Kailash Kher has the kind of unconventional male voice that Rahman seems to dig, so prepare to hear a lot of him in the future. Here, he'd fit Makarand Deshpande's persona well. Hariharan sounds a little flat and renders it in a western tone, while Kher delves into these "aalaaps", "sargams" and modulations quite well. The song has a pop/rock flavour, which sets it apart from the rest of the album, but is melodious nevertheless. One of my favourites.

Aahistaa aahistaa is my least favourite song in this album. A sort of subdued lullaby, I remain cool to this (though several people seemed to have liked this quite a bit). It has the usual Rahman synths and by now I'm a little weary of Udit. Sadhana Sargam pulls things up a bit towards the end, and their harmony together is a little redeeming. This song is going to remind people of "Cha.ndaa Re/VeNNilavé". Santoor (credited to Srinivasulu) is a focal instrument.

Yeh Jo Des Hai Tera/Swades wasn't my pick of the album at first hearing, but many people instantly took to it. I warmed up to it soon, and can now add it to that selective list of good songs that Rahman seems to reserve for himself, but more in the mould of "Vellai PuukkaL". The song essentially consists of a lone beat, a shehnai accompaniment, a faded chorus and the Rahman voice If ever there was a song tugging at nostalgic heart-strings, this is it. Rahman never loses control, and the lyrics don't pretend to be clever, but fit the situation perfectly. Great conclusion of the vocals with the plaintive shehnaai.

Pal Pal Hai Bhaari came as a surprise to me. Who in this age of filmmaking would have a Ramliila song? But Ashutosh Gowariker wants to have one, and Rahman jumps at the chance. Madhushree's "mukhaDaa" gave me that wonderful aural feeling at "aaO raghuviira O"! As the "Baje satya ka da.nka" piece highly resembles a rhythm portion of "If You wanna come along" (New), I was a little miffed at its reuse in this kind of song! But I'm getting used to it. All this is forgotten at the musical response to the harsh Ravana (Vijay Prakash) interrogative lyrics (a good contrast to the female tones): "gin paayegaa...maryaada purshottam" piece is melodious. The third voice (Ashutosh Gowariker is this male voice, I believe) sounds a little orthogonal, and provides a philosophical counterpoint. But the song is vigorous and engrossing, with its mood of despair & moral defiance leading to a happier outcome - quite like "Sarfaroshi ki Tamanna". Wow!

Dekho Na has appeared before, in the vigorously panned "Baba". I haven't heard the original that much, so I don't carry the same antagonism towards this song. I was prepared to be disappointed, but I found quite a bit to merit a repeated listen. The interludes especially. It tends to be a routine romantic song at many places though. I see a mandolin, oud & harp listed in the credits. Am I right is supposing that the mandolin is used in this song?

The two instrumental pieces are a flute rendition of Pal Pal and the shehnaai piece of the title track, both of which are good.

Swades is an instance for the non-Tamil audience that ARR can create albums with a dominance of melody, without having to resort to heavy (Western) rhythms. I think it's time for that debate to be quelled a little. Moreover, this has been about North Indian flavours in melody, rather than using more southern arrangements. It's definitely not up with his best, but it is above average. Rahman fans will obviously love it, and others may like parts of it. I reckon it would take about three passes around the album to make up your mind - that depends on whether you have the patience to make a special case of an ARR album. I'm not so sure if it will attract the greatest mass appeal, for it has no item/dance numbers and by extension, no lack of apparel. Three listens later, and I think one would be sympathetic to atleast 4 out of the 7 vocal tracks.