One man's primate is another man's yucky wimp

One man's primate is another man's yucky wimp

Radio host 1: Have you read the paper, the Aussies are back into you blokes about being whingers?
Harbhajan: That's because they're winning almost every game they are playing out here at this stage.

Host 1: ... and because they have got away without a guy docked 15% of his match fee and they've got an opener...
Host 2 (cuts in) Why don't they just shut up and play cricket?
Harbhajan: There you go, that's the most logical thing I have ever heard this summer

Host 1: Were you charging Andrew Symonds the other day and calling him 'monkey' as you were batting?

Harbhajan: No, 'maa kii. 'Teri maa kii'.

Host 1: That's offensive apparently in Australia?
Harbhajan: He took offence to that, I thought that was quite funny. I said saale, you should be flattered it's a god and your ancestor.


(Everyone laughs)

Host 2: We need to get to the root of the problem and see why they are all so sensitive? What's going on in their lives.

Host 1: Bhajji probably said that as he took Symond's gilli that day...


Harbhajan: I think it's been a bit of a long battle with Symonds. The first time I ever met him he was the same big obnoxious baal-ki-dukaan that he is now, so... (more general laughter)

Host 1: That's what you got about him from every person who's had a dealing with him?

Harbhajan: The thing is, his record speaks for itself in cricket. It's a certain line that you can go to and you know when you push it - and he just pushes it all the time. That is why it is a surprise he's never been charged more than anyone that has ever played in the history of cricket.

Host 1: Does (Matthew) Hayden, that big, tall, balding batsman, come from the same school as Roy?
Harbhajan: Well I think he's just old and as I have said to him many times, abbey, you're 36, just take it easy. He says, but "Aye'm playin' fa maye country" (mimics Aussie accent). Well we're all playing for our country but at the end of the day you're 36, what about if you just worry about your batting for a while. I actually like the idea of getting him in an akhaadaa. Oye, chak de phatte!

(With help from transcript here. Full original version here. Indian view which I don't largely agree with - I don't see it as conscious sledging. I see the foulmouthedness emanating from a plainly pompous and self-inflated ego in a man who's just used to being a bully. If that's how they talk each day, at least they should have the sense to keep it away a mike. Harbhajan himself comes a region which, in stereotype at least, can be foul mouthed itself. But at least, it's off public air. The aussies don't realise that they can't impose their own cultural standards on anyone and that it works both ways.)

Do I speak South Indian?

Do I speak South Indian?

Venkat sent out a link about more examples of the dumb insular American being more than a mere stereotype. With the Hindi version of "Are you smarter than a fifth-grader" around the corner, we can (and we will!) show the amreekans that we can be as good (or bad) as them. Partly because, the popularity of the show will depend on showing that people aren't as smart as a fifth-standard kid (I've noticed many people say "grade" for "standard". Sigh.)

Well, if the only proof of incompetence needed is that of geographical ignorance, then I would like to send in a candidate of my own. This, a well-educated person, who has spent all his life within India, asked me: "So, you must speak South Indian, right?"

I almost gagged there, not out of horror or something, but since there were so many alternative answers to give there, L'esprit_de_l'escalier prevailed. But the sad thought that the education system seems to have utterly failed this chap did cross by. Now, putting on the self-critical hat, I'll readily admit there are several Indian languages I wouldn't be able to identify. But just as I wouldn't ask anyone if they spoke Maharashtrian or Pakistani or Madhya Pradeshi, all I ask is to be extended the same courtesy.

The music of "U, Me, aur Hum"

The music of "U, Me, aur Hum"

I'll admit that I would not have ordinarily looked forward to the music of a film with an orthographically-challenged title such as "U, Me, aur Hum". But with Vishal helming the baton, here is what I thought.

This film is the most 'urban' of Vishal's output. Though not spectacular in any way, it presents enough points of interest to merit a couple of repeats through the playlist. The lyricist isn't a certain stiff-kurta'd maestro here, but Munna Dhiman steps in to produce a couple of interesting poetic fragments. His highest point is the clever "Saiyaan", where Vishal graciously steps into the background to let the lyrics shine. With "nai dilli me.n bareilly jaisaa saiyaa.n" and "saara din afvaaho.n saa phirtaa udtaa-phirtaa hai galii-galii", this is a great track. Vishal adds the right amount of musical embellishments and gets Sunidhi Chauhan to do the same. Though I didn't like this the first time I heard it, it "chipkoo"-ed on from the next one.

Adnan Sami features on 3 tracks as the male voice. Shreya Ghosal and he combine for "Jii Le", a peppy Spanish number with the usual kind of arrangements (Spanish guitars et al.) that make it so. It's a very nice melody, especially the opening piece. I also liked the guitar riffs and the use of the accordions here. Decent track.

There are two version of the title song. Shreya Ghosal does the female solo, while Vishal himself steps up to the mikes for the male version. The tune has all the trappings of a soothing romantic tune and the English pop-lyrics don't distract as in some other songs. With all due respect to the composer, I really think Vishal ought not to sing. His version, in some places, sounds like a scratch track. Music directors are given the benefit of doubt as long as they have something distinctive to offer. However, as yet, Vishal's voice does not have the earnestness of A.R.Rahman, the zaniness of R D Burman, or the folkishness of S D Burman or Ilaiyaraja. He sounds very flat as well as heavy, especially with a female version to compare against. Nice lyrics again.

I didn't like the heavy Punjjaabbee numbers, especially the very noisy (to me) "Phatte". "Dil Dhakda" is slightly better, again with Dhiman's somewhat offbeat takes. However, on the whole, I haven't bothered to come back to these two.

At the end, I'm still playing four of these tracks, especially "Saiyaan", so that's not too bad for a digression on to the mainstream for someone who hasn't always been given his due in that part of public consciousness.

Update: Lyrics can be found at the Gulzarfans egroup.

Also posted on the Vishal blog.

Shaant Ishant, Shaant

Shaant Ishant, Shaant

Reactions to the Indian Premier League have ranged from the moral to the material. There's one thing I don't like: that Ishant Sharma was one of the highest 'bought' players. Nice for the lad and all, but if he really is the brightest bowling prospect (in a decade full of bright bowling prospects) around, is it really smart to let him be subject to further pressures? I can't see his franchise asking him to take it easy if they have paid so much for him. Bowling prospects for India have a habit of disappearing and not being well looked after, and I wish the BCCI would pay him a crore and ask him to sit at home in April.

Man Se

Man Se

Q. How far was the bus-stand from the MNS activist's house?
A. Just a stone's throw away

The long dark cool tiffin-times of our roohs

The long dark cool tiffin-times of our roohs

It's been four months of winter and each time the Freddie seems to finally begin defying gravity, it dips back down the next day. It makes the mornings (especially in the shade) shiver and the brass balls of the night look for cover. The days are fabulous, especially on Sundays, when the road has enough breathing space for a walk in the polite sunshine. This is the famed Pune climate which we have seen very little of in the last few years.

Many other parts of India have faced the brunt of this extended winter, but we in Pune have been a little lucky to have the temperature just about right. Perhaps, if the climate doom-sayers are to be believed, this is strange but final flourish. So in addition to cutting down your C-footprint, get out a little more and enjoy it while it lasts.

The little saffron handbook

The little saffron handbook

Culturally, I consider myself to be part-Maharashtrian, not because it's expedient to do so, but by sheer force of time spent here, influence of friendships, and habits shaped by my environment. I reckon it'd have been the same had I spent a similar amount of time elsewhere in the country. I don't necessarily see it as anything worth trumpeting about, as there are enough similar examples all around me. I also know a few Maharashtrians who hardly fit the traditional maraaThii milieu.

Since (warning: stereotyping ahead) I do not eat poLii-bhaajii or shiiraa each day, prefer gulping down mugs of coffee rather than glasses of tea and medu-vaDaas to baTaaTaa-vaDaas, I sometimes wonder whether I do behave like the "marathi manoos" that one hears a lot about. I wish one of the Thackerays would pen a little primer on what being a "marathi manoos" entails so that one can measure one's level of conformance. In fact, a little electronic arm-band could be made compulsory for everyone that automatically displays a colour from green to red depending on how dangerous you are to the local climate.

That last kaDi-pattaa

That last kaDi-pattaa

I'm a militant opponent of food wastage at meals. From a young age, it was drilled into me that one should not waste food, that one shall endeavour to have a clean plate at the end of a meal, and that to achieve these goals, one shall only take as much as one needs. The lessons evidently have struck home, and I usually eat everything, right down to the last curry leaf. The people who have to wash the plates at the place where I eat lunch daily must surely want to give me a medal. The food in front of me has just had a severe vote of no-confidence if I leave it behind.

Others around me are not so kind. Particularly at buffet lunches where people invite F&B on to their plates with the courtesy of a cruise yacht's captain, only to turn into an uninterested Pune shopkeeper in the afternoons. I watch in horror as people, with hardly a second thought, put down their spoons, forks and fingers aside while leaving morsels untouched. Admittedly, the food isn't always great in public canteens and lunch cafeterias, but that is no excuse for alighting from the gravy train leaving a mess behind. I have been known to give people, especially in the last couple of years, a torrid time over wasted jam and butter at tiffin-time on the principle that if you can't even predict the amount of jam you need on your toast, then what do you really know?

Anyway, the point of this post is this article wondering whether abolishing trays will reduce wastage. I think not. The only economic disincentive I see is to make people pay by weight for the food that they waste at the end. Very simple. It's hard on the eaters when the quality of the food varies from day to day, but then perhaps you should find a different place to eat. (I told you I am a bit of a radical.)

Aleatory and Grindhouse

Aleatory and Grindhouse

The BCQC is organising two open quizzes this Sunday in Pune. The morning one is a Sports quiz and the afternoon will see a General quiz. All the details here or here.