No i am not starting a novel ala chetan bhagat...though I really liked his latest book on love and parents against love and a win finally. I am just getting 'inspired' from the title of his latest novel to write something which is not about love, nor parents, neither about a win really. It's well more about roads and cars and people and lights and cold and sights and sounds and drivers and passengers and waiting and sickness and well...about 3 states.
Yes, three states.Haryana, Delhi(UT), Uttar pradesh. These are the three states which flash against my eyes when I commute to work and a mere suggestion of this travel plan to my colleagues draws such astonishing looks and physical expressions-which is the only thing that lets me gauge the seriousness of my itinerary.
Well I never think of it as a draining distance. great, yes it is but i think the exertion part of it is more mental than physical and it depends too. Like the days when i am looking forward to work helps me a lot to disengage with the hectic travelling. But the days when i am a reluctant employee, it sinks in...and it sinks in hard.
Sights and sounds greet me. Gurgaon's vast and cold roads, the suburban feel to it, with malls and haryanvi attire dotting the region makes it a splendid place to cross by. Delhi's cosmopolitan atmosphere makes me giddy. so does the serpentine traffic jams in the city, but not before enthralling me with the latest skodas and BMWs that zoom past me or the state of the art buses that ply (without going up in flames) or the costumes that people showcase amidst their hurried steps. I still have not found any affinity for Noida. I am more bruised by the dusty roads and the crime graph peaking everytime there. And well office work is not somewhere where you find solace in. But nevertheless.
There used to be a time when I 'travelled' 3 blocks to go to my school and maybe 300 steps to go to my college. That was in Calcutta. Things changed in Chennai where my college was a good 30 kms away.
During my travel here, I read a book or listen to music or simply stare at the roads and a million things crop up in my brain making me numb to the things outside. Almost everyday I spot the mangled remains of a car lying on the sideway. But reaction has ceased to exist.
Sometimes, i get lost but then the driver knows his way or I ask some helpful people who oblige.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Sunday, December 13, 2009
The Neighbourhood Trilogy
It's amazing. For the 20 years I have stayed in salt lake, never before I have looked back and smiled. Now that I do, I miss those avenues, those boulevards and the brisk walk to my neighborhood...
Part 1: Labony
The closest and the most accessible. I still remember I used to be fascinated by those interesting wall patterns on the boundary which covered Labony Housing estate so intricately. The first memories go back to labony school-my first familiar landmark in the society-no because I studied there but because my aunt used to teach there and had a lot of tales to tell us about it. And who can forget Murari kaku's shop? It's the 'eastern oriental fair' which james Joyce talks about in his short story 'Araby' for me. Still incomparable and of a much much higher class than the glitzy and swanky mall outlets and branded retail stores in any part of the world for me. There was nothing that you could not get from his shop and the most alluring part was the benevolent smile that used to greet me whenever I used to visit it either for the month's supplies or a piece of soap or a loaf of bread. My mother's hankering over a couple of rupees was also met with the most cordial of all expressions and an unending desire to please his customers. Truly, retailing was a piece of cake for him and he succeeded all right! Just around the corner was a sweetmeat shop called 'dool-phool' named after two sisters one of them who got married and came to stay in our locality. It churned out the worst of the sweets but nevertheless, guests in house would mean a trip to 'dool-phool', since there were no other sweets shop nearby. The old dingy alleys led to the greengrocers with all their fresh splendours-potatoes, onions, lettuces, cauliflowers, freshwater fish, mutton, tender chicken and the list would go on and everybody used to have their own advertisements-either shouting to the customers to come to them and check out the freshest of the lot or simply howling their low price varieties. It was unmatched. Who can forget the stationary shop where a jovial middle aged person tended to the time taken by me to decide which pen to buy, with unparalleled patience. Labony variety stores' ambience was perfect, now that I revive, to relax in a shade when the scorching sun was making its presence unbearable for us. It was a welcome relief amidst the fragnance of the freshly grained lentils and the pungent but titillating mustard oil. These sights and sounds and smells transport me to the olden past world of charm and laziness, only to find my existence now in a drab and mechanical world of commercialization and unemotion. Quite a number of times, I have played criclket with the so called 'rival kids' of labony-alone, in thier team,as well as while representing vidyasagar. My record while playing alone, I would like to believe, has been unmatched. There was a day, I faintly remember, i whacked sixes after sixes to a bowler. Trips to Bimal uncle's home for tuition was a reluctant affair but nevertheless, I miss it terribly now, such a goo teacher he was. But most of the days , the ambience in the house was such-with all the curtains drawn and no one in the house, either of us would doze off regularly, leaving the avoidable RD Sharma maths book unattended. Those were the days. The joy of escaping from the drab world of tuitions was a high for me. I used to run back to my home, only to come down and start my evening playing session with my friends. Later on, Arka and me used to go to labony together-if the either of us had something to buy. Or at least cross the estate if we had to go somewhere else on the same route. The stalls of milk, flowers and Fuchkas outside Labony was a great place to stop by and hang out.Even now, when I go to Kolkata, I make it a point to find an excuse to visit it at least once. During pujas, we used to visit Labony's puja, which 8 out of 10 times was better than ours, thanks to the high budget due the number of residents they had. But anyways, we would find a thousand faults with their pandals, thier idol and a host of other things and leave labony with a sense of accomplishment, grinning ear to ear. We used to dance the hardest near labony gate on the beats of the most rocking tune during durga puja immersion procession (the nagin tune) So a relationship of sweet rivalry existed between vidyasagar and labony but an indispensable bond was unmistakable in its presence between labony and me.
Part 2: CA Market
Arguably, no why arguably, DEFINITELY, the best market that I have visited. When I talk about best market it doesnt mean that it has to have cool stores and heavy tech facilities. My idea of perfect markets is that it should have a warm, cosy and familiar feeling with accessible and comfortable marketing facilities. And CA market suited the bill perfectly. It still does in many aspects. And the charm has increased manifold after I and Jaya used to roam around in the alleys surrounding it. But starting from trips to CA market with Bhaisaab to Amma to my parents to Arka, every trip has been so very special that it is altogether a different experience. Mona kaka's shop was a direct substitute for murari kaku's in labony. I liked dipping my hands into the sacks of rice kept outside the shop and also used to enjoy the star treatment meted out to us. SO often my parents were offered a cup of tea and I, a toffee of my choice, which made my trips even more pleasurable. Another attraction was the cassette Cds shop where, most probably, the first Salman khan Cassette was notched up by me before anybody else. The fruit shop, the magazine shop(where the comic magazines laid neatly on slabs of stones), the roll centre outside, the chemist's, Ravi da's shop outside, Sudeepta on the 1st floor(where all the latest He-man and g.i.joe figures used to entice me), the dressers upstairs, the stationers where I used to buy my school books from-so special they are and so strongly they are etched in my memory that I find it very difficult apart from them now. The malls dont impress me. But now Ca market has 'developed'. The advent of modernity is good but somewhere the charm loses itself...
Part 3: EC market
Yeah it was dirty, disorganised and lacked maintenance. It still is and I dont appreciate the dark roads that lead to it. But nevertheless, without EC market, the trilogy wouldnt have completed. Regular trips to the market was a habit. Sometimes for buying the latest russian books, underpriced and exotic, sometimes to buy fresh and hot vegetable chops and out-of-the-world kheerkadamba sweets with flakes of kheer over it from 'amrita piyashi'. Rows of GIJoe action figures used to hang outside SNCL, an acronym for 'essential' used to live up to its name for me. Everytime, I used to nag about visiting the shop and deriving vicarious pleasure out of watching them and 20 other odd toys, showcased so intricately, glistening and seducing me so much as to give me dreams of them. Then there was the brothers shop which I still did not understand sold what? 'Aahar's' rolls were the one of its kind in Kolkata with tender dumplings of chicken golden fried with a dash of lemon on it.So when I have saleem's or kareem's rolls here, the zing is missing and overpriced still. The shops in all the three markets mentioned were generic in nature but still all of them had an individuality of theirs.
I did not mention Chhorda's store in Vidyasagar as it is in my own locality. The Duttabad market also deserves a special mention as far as charm is concerned. Of late, City Centre and Purbachal market also were favourite haunts but only because Jaya accompanies me to these places.
I long for these markets and neighbourhoods now. So when I doze off while returning home in a bus and wake up and lose the sense of time and place, I imagine that after a little while i will be visiting one of the markets to buy something. And then, I realize that I am miles apart from them and they wont be accessible to me. Only in my distant dreams, perhaps, where i could see them but not touch.
Part 1: Labony
The closest and the most accessible. I still remember I used to be fascinated by those interesting wall patterns on the boundary which covered Labony Housing estate so intricately. The first memories go back to labony school-my first familiar landmark in the society-no because I studied there but because my aunt used to teach there and had a lot of tales to tell us about it. And who can forget Murari kaku's shop? It's the 'eastern oriental fair' which james Joyce talks about in his short story 'Araby' for me. Still incomparable and of a much much higher class than the glitzy and swanky mall outlets and branded retail stores in any part of the world for me. There was nothing that you could not get from his shop and the most alluring part was the benevolent smile that used to greet me whenever I used to visit it either for the month's supplies or a piece of soap or a loaf of bread. My mother's hankering over a couple of rupees was also met with the most cordial of all expressions and an unending desire to please his customers. Truly, retailing was a piece of cake for him and he succeeded all right! Just around the corner was a sweetmeat shop called 'dool-phool' named after two sisters one of them who got married and came to stay in our locality. It churned out the worst of the sweets but nevertheless, guests in house would mean a trip to 'dool-phool', since there were no other sweets shop nearby. The old dingy alleys led to the greengrocers with all their fresh splendours-potatoes, onions, lettuces, cauliflowers, freshwater fish, mutton, tender chicken and the list would go on and everybody used to have their own advertisements-either shouting to the customers to come to them and check out the freshest of the lot or simply howling their low price varieties. It was unmatched. Who can forget the stationary shop where a jovial middle aged person tended to the time taken by me to decide which pen to buy, with unparalleled patience. Labony variety stores' ambience was perfect, now that I revive, to relax in a shade when the scorching sun was making its presence unbearable for us. It was a welcome relief amidst the fragnance of the freshly grained lentils and the pungent but titillating mustard oil. These sights and sounds and smells transport me to the olden past world of charm and laziness, only to find my existence now in a drab and mechanical world of commercialization and unemotion. Quite a number of times, I have played criclket with the so called 'rival kids' of labony-alone, in thier team,as well as while representing vidyasagar. My record while playing alone, I would like to believe, has been unmatched. There was a day, I faintly remember, i whacked sixes after sixes to a bowler. Trips to Bimal uncle's home for tuition was a reluctant affair but nevertheless, I miss it terribly now, such a goo teacher he was. But most of the days , the ambience in the house was such-with all the curtains drawn and no one in the house, either of us would doze off regularly, leaving the avoidable RD Sharma maths book unattended. Those were the days. The joy of escaping from the drab world of tuitions was a high for me. I used to run back to my home, only to come down and start my evening playing session with my friends. Later on, Arka and me used to go to labony together-if the either of us had something to buy. Or at least cross the estate if we had to go somewhere else on the same route. The stalls of milk, flowers and Fuchkas outside Labony was a great place to stop by and hang out.Even now, when I go to Kolkata, I make it a point to find an excuse to visit it at least once. During pujas, we used to visit Labony's puja, which 8 out of 10 times was better than ours, thanks to the high budget due the number of residents they had. But anyways, we would find a thousand faults with their pandals, thier idol and a host of other things and leave labony with a sense of accomplishment, grinning ear to ear. We used to dance the hardest near labony gate on the beats of the most rocking tune during durga puja immersion procession (the nagin tune) So a relationship of sweet rivalry existed between vidyasagar and labony but an indispensable bond was unmistakable in its presence between labony and me.
Part 2: CA Market
Arguably, no why arguably, DEFINITELY, the best market that I have visited. When I talk about best market it doesnt mean that it has to have cool stores and heavy tech facilities. My idea of perfect markets is that it should have a warm, cosy and familiar feeling with accessible and comfortable marketing facilities. And CA market suited the bill perfectly. It still does in many aspects. And the charm has increased manifold after I and Jaya used to roam around in the alleys surrounding it. But starting from trips to CA market with Bhaisaab to Amma to my parents to Arka, every trip has been so very special that it is altogether a different experience. Mona kaka's shop was a direct substitute for murari kaku's in labony. I liked dipping my hands into the sacks of rice kept outside the shop and also used to enjoy the star treatment meted out to us. SO often my parents were offered a cup of tea and I, a toffee of my choice, which made my trips even more pleasurable. Another attraction was the cassette Cds shop where, most probably, the first Salman khan Cassette was notched up by me before anybody else. The fruit shop, the magazine shop(where the comic magazines laid neatly on slabs of stones), the roll centre outside, the chemist's, Ravi da's shop outside, Sudeepta on the 1st floor(where all the latest He-man and g.i.joe figures used to entice me), the dressers upstairs, the stationers where I used to buy my school books from-so special they are and so strongly they are etched in my memory that I find it very difficult apart from them now. The malls dont impress me. But now Ca market has 'developed'. The advent of modernity is good but somewhere the charm loses itself...
Part 3: EC market
Yeah it was dirty, disorganised and lacked maintenance. It still is and I dont appreciate the dark roads that lead to it. But nevertheless, without EC market, the trilogy wouldnt have completed. Regular trips to the market was a habit. Sometimes for buying the latest russian books, underpriced and exotic, sometimes to buy fresh and hot vegetable chops and out-of-the-world kheerkadamba sweets with flakes of kheer over it from 'amrita piyashi'. Rows of GIJoe action figures used to hang outside SNCL, an acronym for 'essential' used to live up to its name for me. Everytime, I used to nag about visiting the shop and deriving vicarious pleasure out of watching them and 20 other odd toys, showcased so intricately, glistening and seducing me so much as to give me dreams of them. Then there was the brothers shop which I still did not understand sold what? 'Aahar's' rolls were the one of its kind in Kolkata with tender dumplings of chicken golden fried with a dash of lemon on it.So when I have saleem's or kareem's rolls here, the zing is missing and overpriced still. The shops in all the three markets mentioned were generic in nature but still all of them had an individuality of theirs.
I did not mention Chhorda's store in Vidyasagar as it is in my own locality. The Duttabad market also deserves a special mention as far as charm is concerned. Of late, City Centre and Purbachal market also were favourite haunts but only because Jaya accompanies me to these places.
I long for these markets and neighbourhoods now. So when I doze off while returning home in a bus and wake up and lose the sense of time and place, I imagine that after a little while i will be visiting one of the markets to buy something. And then, I realize that I am miles apart from them and they wont be accessible to me. Only in my distant dreams, perhaps, where i could see them but not touch.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Telangana tangle (TV script)
ANCHOR LINES: Well, its a new day and a new demand nowadays...for separate statehood. The Telangana tangle refuses to solve itself. and with the partail success of Telangana, other demands have also raked up in the Indian political system, leaving the already worried Congress baffled this time. Here's a report...
(Up sound)
BYTE: G Jagadeeshwar Reddy, TRS spokesperson
(We demand a separate Telangana state from the Centre)
(Up sound, shots of protesters hitting the street with placards, dramatic music in background, tense colours, time lapse)
VO1: And we thought that the British Raj was hell bent on dividing the country...
(shots continue)
The demand for separate statehood based on language concentration has hotted up in India. Supporters of Telangana has finally tasted success after 50 long years of demand, violence and bloodshed. KCR's fast has turned him into the latest poster boy of Andhra politics. His sacrifice has bore fruit. (shots of supporters and KCR in hospital)
BYTE: P Chidambaram, Home Minister
(We will look into their demand and the process of formation of the new state will be initiated)
A moral victory for the supporters of the cause
(Visuals: Supporters holding voctory rally, dancing, celebrations)
VO 2: The Telangana victory has upped the ante of other bifurcators. Gorkhaland...
BYTE: Roshan Giri, GJM Spokesperson
(We demand for a separate Gorkhaland state...want to secede away from the colonial rule in West bengal)
So mush so, that they have met Home Minister Chidambaram and put their foot down. And also called for a Darjeeling bandh on December 14. And the leader of their cause. His truly-the ousted...(file shots)
BYTE: Jaswant Singh, MP, Darjeeling
(The people have been demanding for a separate state for long)
And if you think that was enough...here comes other demands...Bodoland, Maru Pradesh and Vidarbha.
Graphics
Bodoland: Demand by Bodo People's front, demand for 13 years
Vidarbha: Plight of farmers and poor governance drove the demand
Maru Pradesh: In Rajasthan
VO 3: And here's a first of its kind...A chief minister wanting to trifurcate her state...for the sake of its development.
BYTE: Mayawati, Chief Minister, Uttar pradesh
(I have written to the Pm demanding separate states of Bundelkhand and Harit Pradesh)
The Congress Government is in a fix. After the initial agreement for Telangana, they have backtracked, thanks to the collective resignations of Congress, TDP and PRP MPs from the Andhra assembly...so the stir continues and violence is still on.
(Visuals of fresh protests, bandh in Rayalseema)
Hyderabad emerging as a crucial point
BYTE: Madhu Giri, Congress MP
(Of course, there can be no question of creation of Telangana without Hyderabad. It's like a body without its head)
GK Pillai fuelled the fire...
BYTE: GK Pillai, Home secy
(Yes, of course. Hyderabad will be an integral part of Telangana)
Though later on he reverted his statement, it hasnt gone down too well with the congressmen.
And it has decided, now, to wait and watch and not to take any decision in haste. (file shots)
BYTE: K Rosaiah, CM, Andhra Pradesh
(The PM has assured me that it wont take any decision in haste)
VO 4: With fresh demands emerging everyday, like TMC's demand for a separate state carved out in jharkhand, it seems a politics of secession has dawned onto our country. Leaving the ruling coalition helpless. Telangana or no Telangana the demands for separate statehood has sure proved to be a chink in the armour of the UPA. (file shots)
Yashodeep Sengupta
NOTE:
(Up sound)
BYTE: G Jagadeeshwar Reddy, TRS spokesperson
(We demand a separate Telangana state from the Centre)
(Up sound, shots of protesters hitting the street with placards, dramatic music in background, tense colours, time lapse)
VO1: And we thought that the British Raj was hell bent on dividing the country...
(shots continue)
The demand for separate statehood based on language concentration has hotted up in India. Supporters of Telangana has finally tasted success after 50 long years of demand, violence and bloodshed. KCR's fast has turned him into the latest poster boy of Andhra politics. His sacrifice has bore fruit. (shots of supporters and KCR in hospital)
BYTE: P Chidambaram, Home Minister
(We will look into their demand and the process of formation of the new state will be initiated)
A moral victory for the supporters of the cause
(Visuals: Supporters holding voctory rally, dancing, celebrations)
VO 2: The Telangana victory has upped the ante of other bifurcators. Gorkhaland...
BYTE: Roshan Giri, GJM Spokesperson
(We demand for a separate Gorkhaland state...want to secede away from the colonial rule in West bengal)
So mush so, that they have met Home Minister Chidambaram and put their foot down. And also called for a Darjeeling bandh on December 14. And the leader of their cause. His truly-the ousted...(file shots)
BYTE: Jaswant Singh, MP, Darjeeling
(The people have been demanding for a separate state for long)
And if you think that was enough...here comes other demands...Bodoland, Maru Pradesh and Vidarbha.
Graphics
Bodoland: Demand by Bodo People's front, demand for 13 years
Vidarbha: Plight of farmers and poor governance drove the demand
Maru Pradesh: In Rajasthan
VO 3: And here's a first of its kind...A chief minister wanting to trifurcate her state...for the sake of its development.
BYTE: Mayawati, Chief Minister, Uttar pradesh
(I have written to the Pm demanding separate states of Bundelkhand and Harit Pradesh)
The Congress Government is in a fix. After the initial agreement for Telangana, they have backtracked, thanks to the collective resignations of Congress, TDP and PRP MPs from the Andhra assembly...so the stir continues and violence is still on.
(Visuals of fresh protests, bandh in Rayalseema)
Hyderabad emerging as a crucial point
BYTE: Madhu Giri, Congress MP
(Of course, there can be no question of creation of Telangana without Hyderabad. It's like a body without its head)
GK Pillai fuelled the fire...
BYTE: GK Pillai, Home secy
(Yes, of course. Hyderabad will be an integral part of Telangana)
Though later on he reverted his statement, it hasnt gone down too well with the congressmen.
And it has decided, now, to wait and watch and not to take any decision in haste. (file shots)
BYTE: K Rosaiah, CM, Andhra Pradesh
(The PM has assured me that it wont take any decision in haste)
VO 4: With fresh demands emerging everyday, like TMC's demand for a separate state carved out in jharkhand, it seems a politics of secession has dawned onto our country. Leaving the ruling coalition helpless. Telangana or no Telangana the demands for separate statehood has sure proved to be a chink in the armour of the UPA. (file shots)
Yashodeep Sengupta
NOTE:
- This is not a script under an ideal condition
- This could be a script for special treatment and packaging because ideally ant TV script should not exceed 90 secs and should not have so many soundbytes
- Some of the info might (just) be factually incorrect)
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Another joining to the TRP scramble
When we talk of TRPs we think about the 'Bigg bosses' and the 'balika vadhus' and to a certain extent India's cricket matches. But I also feel that the apparently drab, mundane and lack-lustre DD Lok sabha and DD Rajya sabha should have a solid share in the TRP pie. There used to be a time when I used to loathe at my uncle's habit of watching the day's proceedings religiously and used to laugh behind his back. Little did I know that after 7-8 years I would be the one fixing my gaze on the screen when the session begins. Of course bills and question hours hold no interest or very little, but the real blazers are the debates. I would not call them lively though. They are more noisy and gives an impression of a brawl taking place. But nevertheless, its a fixed consumable for the newsmakers. They thrive on it. And after wards it turns quite interesting too. So while you appreciate the cool and very gentle composure that chidambaram maintains while addressing any allegation, you simply cant ignore or trash the fiery nature of Ms. Swaraj's maligning. There's a rush, a sense of urgency when the members rush towards the well of the house demanding something. Observation1: They do not, in 9 out of 10 cases, worry about the crucial time that they are wasting and observation 2: The poor speaker, inspite of his apparent powers cant do an inch more than a "please aap baith jaiye" and "please resume your seat".
The present issues hanging in the parliament air apart from climate change debate and the NREGAs are the Liberhan report and the Telangana issue. BOth are not topical, but still retain their vigour and have hit back the sensitive Indian's mind with full gusto. The ghosts of the Babri refuse to die and the tremors of telangana have by now, resulted in the UPA relenting to the TRS's demand. KCR is the new poster boy...rejuvenated. And even the ruckus in the Andhra and Punjab assemblies have made it into the headlines. And when India is concerned, there is no lack of topics and crisis to be discussed. Everything under the (Indian) moon can be converted into a hot debatable issue within the walls of the Parliament.
Recently, something really humorous happened which supplied as a great ingredient for a feast relished by the media. Several MPs were missing from the House during the Question hour. And they cited juvenile and transparent reasons like getting late due to road and EVEN air transport, which left a poor Meira Kumar smiling without having anything else to say or do. Most of them dont maintain a basic decorum in the house and I remember in the West Bengal assembly, some TMC MPs even resorted to flinging chairs and breaking tables. Such a shame. But who knows, when you have a million voters to cater (or rather pretend to) to and their votes to greedily lap for, you are left with a little option rather than maintaining decency. Not everybody can be a Chidambaram or a Manmohan Singh.
So, entertainment comes with all its splendour during these sessions. Our primal instinct to get attracted to any kind of confrontation or altercation and watch them as a silent spectator and derive fun out of them like vultures devouring their preys, is a great aid for them too. So teh next time you are bored of family soaps or dramatic reality shows, just tune to DD Lok sabha and Rajya sabha. And I am sure you wont get disappointed.
(Of course you might choose to watch the most savoury bits and pieces from a news bulletin later or live)
The present issues hanging in the parliament air apart from climate change debate and the NREGAs are the Liberhan report and the Telangana issue. BOth are not topical, but still retain their vigour and have hit back the sensitive Indian's mind with full gusto. The ghosts of the Babri refuse to die and the tremors of telangana have by now, resulted in the UPA relenting to the TRS's demand. KCR is the new poster boy...rejuvenated. And even the ruckus in the Andhra and Punjab assemblies have made it into the headlines. And when India is concerned, there is no lack of topics and crisis to be discussed. Everything under the (Indian) moon can be converted into a hot debatable issue within the walls of the Parliament.
Recently, something really humorous happened which supplied as a great ingredient for a feast relished by the media. Several MPs were missing from the House during the Question hour. And they cited juvenile and transparent reasons like getting late due to road and EVEN air transport, which left a poor Meira Kumar smiling without having anything else to say or do. Most of them dont maintain a basic decorum in the house and I remember in the West Bengal assembly, some TMC MPs even resorted to flinging chairs and breaking tables. Such a shame. But who knows, when you have a million voters to cater (or rather pretend to) to and their votes to greedily lap for, you are left with a little option rather than maintaining decency. Not everybody can be a Chidambaram or a Manmohan Singh.
So, entertainment comes with all its splendour during these sessions. Our primal instinct to get attracted to any kind of confrontation or altercation and watch them as a silent spectator and derive fun out of them like vultures devouring their preys, is a great aid for them too. So teh next time you are bored of family soaps or dramatic reality shows, just tune to DD Lok sabha and Rajya sabha. And I am sure you wont get disappointed.
(Of course you might choose to watch the most savoury bits and pieces from a news bulletin later or live)
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Boss with a baggage
I came to know the arbitrary power of a master after I warned my maid to 'lay her off' ( such a popular lingo nowadays) when she misbehaved. The sudden power that I discovered within me came with a rider. And moments after issuing her warning verbal certificate, I felt damned. So this was the power of the boss. I can wish what I want and i have a thousand people under me tending to me desires. And if somebody fails to live up to my expectations, well...I simply fire him! As far as i am concerned I dont have much experience of playing the boss with people but yes a couple of times I have very well come under their supervision, professionally. And like other 'subordinates' i would vouch that having your boss standing right behind your neck and monitoring your proceedings is not a pleasant affair at all. And then of course, you run that risk of not living up to his expectations and just like the boss in Katherine mansfield's 'The Fly', with one blot of an ink he can wipe me off the daily roster.
Speaking of Mansfield and the character of boss in it, I feel that today's bosses are not that lonely. The boss in the short story must have been a little hyper-sensitive who laments for his lost child after realization dawns on him. But today's bosses are an unscrupulous lot. Sensitive, they seldom are and whenever they are, one can plainly recognize that it is nothing but a garb behind which lie some ulterior motive to get a work done or win your confidence. So one boss can delay your payment when you have taken a leave for a deadly virus attack and ask for papers to prove so, another can fire a bureau cameraperson if he fails to get a guest through to a telecast due to some technical error.
You know that when you are a boss there are a thousand people backbiting you and you also know that there are millions other who will praise you with sugar coated tongue once you lay your eyes on them. Girls have an edge here. And pretty ones can relax even more. Just by a turn of your eye or a swish of your shampooed hair you can entice the gentleman in corduroys and win his heart. But yes, you have to maintain your seduction till the time you decide that either he is distasteful or attacking your virginity or the lack of it or you simply decide to take your charms to another boss somewhere else.
Sensitive bosses like me or mansfield's character, by the terms and trends mentioned above, should not play the boss. because after venting out my ire on the maid,for a moment i realized that laying her off would mean that I have to find a new maid and that is not the easiest job on earth. And I dont have abundant wads of money on me.poor boss me!
Speaking of Mansfield and the character of boss in it, I feel that today's bosses are not that lonely. The boss in the short story must have been a little hyper-sensitive who laments for his lost child after realization dawns on him. But today's bosses are an unscrupulous lot. Sensitive, they seldom are and whenever they are, one can plainly recognize that it is nothing but a garb behind which lie some ulterior motive to get a work done or win your confidence. So one boss can delay your payment when you have taken a leave for a deadly virus attack and ask for papers to prove so, another can fire a bureau cameraperson if he fails to get a guest through to a telecast due to some technical error.
You know that when you are a boss there are a thousand people backbiting you and you also know that there are millions other who will praise you with sugar coated tongue once you lay your eyes on them. Girls have an edge here. And pretty ones can relax even more. Just by a turn of your eye or a swish of your shampooed hair you can entice the gentleman in corduroys and win his heart. But yes, you have to maintain your seduction till the time you decide that either he is distasteful or attacking your virginity or the lack of it or you simply decide to take your charms to another boss somewhere else.
Sensitive bosses like me or mansfield's character, by the terms and trends mentioned above, should not play the boss. because after venting out my ire on the maid,for a moment i realized that laying her off would mean that I have to find a new maid and that is not the easiest job on earth. And I dont have abundant wads of money on me.poor boss me!
Thursday, November 12, 2009
When the Left is not right
Now that TMC has routed the left bastion from the 9 out of 10 seats in the recent by-polls in west bengal, CPM has little to make amend of. Like a prominent left leader said yesterday that CPM should go for a snap poll and exit gracefully and respectfully before their tenure ends (sic) in 2011. The party which ruled the state for more than 33 yrs have finally succumbed to its ineffectiveness and is staring at a massive electoral defeat in 2011. It needs a divine stroke of luck to revert their lost grandeur back to them. Mamata yesterday dramatically mentioned thatit was not the TMC's win but it was the left's loss-a statement that is sure to rub salt to the party's innumerable wounds and crack their backbone. And now that Mamata is looking forward to the students election by opening TMC's first students wing, it is sure to eat into whatever little is left of the CPM's vote bank. The Left is no more a people's party. This sudden curse should be very unbearable for left stalwarts whose efforts flagged the party's position and respect to such ground-breaking proportions. At a time when the whole nation is rebuking the Left;s ineffective combat against the maoists, their poor policies to benefit the poor and its failed attempt to rapidly industrialize the state (at the cost of the peasants' properties, as most of the people would say), we should spare a little thought for Left leaders like Jyoti Basu, Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee and the Late Subhash Bhowmick. They contribution to the party machinery was not only unparalleled but also path breaking in their uniqueness. Its not that I am writing their obituary from right now. But as a person who is born and brought up in West Bengal, It is a little unpleasant for me to witness their pathetic decle. And the day when Buddha babu will sit in the opposition's chair in the cabinet, it will be a surprising sight even for Mamata. More than the fact that the Bengal population is awed by Mamata's endeavours, I personally feel that they are in tremendous need of a change. There was a mood of anti-incumbency in the air and mamata, at the very right time, ignited the fire of 'Yes, we can (too)' and the result is right before your eyes. Its good to be optimistic, but somewhere lurking in the hearts of all the CPM workers and members in the state is the realization that in the next elections, The Left will be trampled for sure. What they now need is to think how to point out the loopholes of the possibly ruling TMC in 2011 and come back to power again. But clearly, Now, the Left is NOT right for the people.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Working for the tube
Yeah, so its been more than 6 months that I am in the media profession. There used to be a time when I was enamoured by the field (mostly that of print...TV seldom interested me) and wanted to pursue a career in journalism. But that time I was a bit juvenile and naive to think that the profession would be a bed of roses. But later on with education, knowledge and a little experience, I discovered some thorns too.
So yes, life of a journalist is not heaven. Yes, you get a kick, u get respect from people but you have to slog and specially in TV the situation is crunch. Television, unlike print, competes for TRPs, eyeball grabbing and sensationalism. So the components (namely the workforce) that go into its realization need to be very efficient and swift, and thus the condition gets strenuous.
There is an unmistakable buzz in a newsroom which translates a situation of utter urgency and a life on the edge. Yes, outdoor reporters have a tougher life. I know a senior reporter of a leading TV channel who complains that she has to take her blackberry even to the shower, lest a phone call comes to her asking to go out and report or to do a live chat or give a phono. Desk work is equally hectic and active. But its localized in the newsroom. Production (online and bulletin) needs skill and thought and quick decision-making abilities. Life as a bulletin producer at News9 was very very tough, specially coz I had just passed out of college. But I personally feel that a promo producer, although needs to be creative and all, has the easiest and coolest working style and conditions ina Tv channel. Having said these, I would also like to mention that the policies and working style differ from channel to channel. So if in India TV the lead prime timer is 'barfili maanav:yeti", in Times now its the latest piracy by the somali buccaneers. So while NDTV takes you to the drought affected corners of vidharba, CNN IBN tells you about the latest train mishap in the country.
And how are the people? Well frustrated, I would say. If you are into the media business, you would know why. Most of them are foul mouthed and have a certain crudeness in them. I have heard my friends in the news channel which harbours the highest TRPs in today's time complain that some of the anchors in the channel are so full of themselves that conversing with them you would feel like as if you are talking to an important delegate or something (no offences). It comes to you. I know it does. There have been instances where I have gotten irritated in a click of a finger and after regaining my composure have realized the magnitude of my undoing. I dont know how strongly can I guard myself from these traps. I remember one of my professors in ACJ warn us that in newsrooms, we would discover startingly curious anatomical and familial terms hitherto unknown to us. I did. And also as P. Sainath said once in a lecture, that if the vidharba farmers really lost their lives by consuming liquor (as held by the government) then there would be no journalists left in this planet. i realized that too, though not in a very intimate way. Then ofcourse there are good people, willing to help you. But the number is less. By the way, I have noticed the abovementioned traits only in TV journalsts. I still have a fuzzy idea about print journalists.
I strongly feel that more than a decision, Journalism is an intention (others would say passion). Even if you are not a journalist, I think everyone should be updated with the latest happenings all around you through the extensive coverage of media today. But those in the profession may enjoy the luxury of keeping his mind shut off events as such in a off day. Be a journalist and you would soon know why.
There are a lot of other things that I would have liked to share in this article, but maybe sometimes later.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Blame game in Bengal
Politics has turned into gimmick, providing umpteen drama to television and print journalists alike. Take the case of bengal politics, for example. At a time when a larger national threat like that of armed-rebellion of the naxals and the revisit of terms such as 'prisoner of war' etc, is looming large on the bengal plateau, political leaders are engaging in childish mudslinging. Just imagine a verbal duel between the two major parties, slugging it out just to garner a few votes when one needs to be composite, mature and take stock of situation together in combating such a deadly threat. So buddha accuses mamata of being hand in gloves with the maoists and then mamata retaliates in an equally humbug term-buddha is a maoist. and leaders like jyoti basu fuel the fire. The crucial by elections for 10 seats are drawing near and everbody wants a larger share of the pie. Mamata wants to create a wave of rebellion against the incumbent left ruling and some say. torturing the state for the last 35 years. rightly so, even the MNS in maharashtra has started off similarly. and anything new, fresh, brave and different has people to laud it. but in times like such, do we really need lashes of pungent criticism or a good and strong opposition trying to capture power through sense and not brawn? On the other hand, the pillars of the left rule in bengal are shaking, looking forward to a possible a very possible defeat in the 2011 elections. So they are trying to magnify every flaw the opposition is making. But when time comes to hold talks with the maoists, nobody has created any ruffle. Many do not know. It wasnt an ardhendu sen or the WB DGP whose efforts could guarantee the release of atindranath datta. It took senior journalists like subir bhowmick to manage the situation and mediate between the maoists and the centre to bring a reluctant kishenji in the front. the prisoner swapping was also a cause, which I am surprised why the BJP did not take as an agenda to slam the centre. They, instead, focussed on the issue of dinakaran and a raja falling under suspicion for possible scams. The left government is weak in bengal and the opposition is acting in an immatured way. What the left need is an introspection along with loosening some of its rigid anti-capitalist principles. The lack of investment in the state is an example of its non existence. While on the other hand, didi must understand that mouthing rants like 'buddha is a a maoist' wont take them anywhere. What they need is a constructive criticism. Victory might be in sight for the TMC but stupidity like these should be avoided to ensure a clean sweep.
do co mo...wa ta fa?
The next time I see a group of powder faced jokers muttering some incomprehensible lines ala jaadu tona and jantar mantar and trying to do an anu malik in a tube, I am going to bash my Tv set. I respect the advertising field. My brother is an adman and I find he has got one of the best brains. But ad guys who churn out stupid ads like that of tata docomo (whatever that crap means) are deplorable. mainly because, may be they think that an alluring tune would attract the viewers' attention and will breed curiosity, but in the middle they are not able to communicate the primary content of the ad-how will the product help me? what on earth is a docomo? ya some people might say that in print ads and in earlier TV ads, docomo has been revealed to be an intelligent prepaid scheme that makes you pay for the exact time that you talk. but then where is the message getting delivered in ads like these? and why docomo? why not gabala?
Its thoroughly stupid. The way some people in a tube train, believed to be travelling somewhere in mid Europe, pipes up nonchalantly and engages other passengers in a disgusting tune which sweeps everybody off their feet,is not only childish but nonsensical too.
Though the tune is curious if you listen to it without video. Some strains should have been left non-lip synced.
Its thoroughly stupid. The way some people in a tube train, believed to be travelling somewhere in mid Europe, pipes up nonchalantly and engages other passengers in a disgusting tune which sweeps everybody off their feet,is not only childish but nonsensical too.
Though the tune is curious if you listen to it without video. Some strains should have been left non-lip synced.
mukul scribbles and scribbles well!
I find my friend Sid's tidbits about his life a nice read in his 'bits from here and pieces from there' blog category. So I learn that he will be off to a new place for a new job in a few days. The news satisfies me. I really feel good for him and wish him all the very best in his work and fun. He's been a brother to me and even though we are miles separated and he hangs out more with his other friends and I with mine ( whatever scarce I am left with), he holds a special place in my heart. We have been friends right from the beginning-from times that I dont remember even. And we have been great pals. Lots of things to write about our memories. It would take ages. I will, eventually, one day. But in a nutshell, he was among the very few in our school who was so passionate about Bollywood, so he was a storehouse of gossips, news, scoops and infos. And being in his company sure did me well in whipping up my interest in the field. A man with an array of creativity. astounding handwriting. I still remember that he used to pen down the details of the book cricket entry with such painstaking care and details. I hope he still treasures those diaries. And he was fun, alright! There wasnt a single dull moment with him. Now we have grown up and we meet rarely. But each encounter remains etched in my memory for long. His blogging habit is very commendable. And to learn the fact that he is reading books like 'the white tiger' and is keeping himself updated with the latest movies in town deserves an applause. Way to go, bro!
to the people who scans my posts: please visit www.mukulscribbles.blogspot.com
to the people who scans my posts: please visit www.mukulscribbles.blogspot.com
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Fruit and nut
I remember that when I came to Chennai to pursue my post graduation, I had written in a blog entry that blogging would be a luxury from then onwards. Now i am afraid it is time that I revisit the emotion. Though it sounds fancy, but its a fact that I have little time at my disposition to pursue my leisurely activities. So blog entries could be scarce now. Sometimes when I am in the midst of paraphrasing the latest comments of arun jaitley on the 2G spectrum allocation 'scam' into TV language, my mind wanders off into portals which supplies me with rich content for a prospective blog entry. But alas, the call of duty and the overseeing CCTVs forbid me to translate my passion into practice and by the time I reach home late way after midnight, my mind becomes numb, insusceptible to any ideas or drive.
The princeton dictionary defines 'testimonial' as 'something that serves as an evidence'. Well, so the 10-odd testimonials that I have received in my orkut account is meant to be evidences for me, if somebody questions my integrity and suspects the nobleness of my mind. But hasnt it already been questioned and suspected and reached to a conclusion by some people who had once written me testimonials? This is just an ounce of the reason why I shrugged off a couple of them a few minutes ago. The other reason is far more important for me.
social networking sites are a good invention. people have less time now and they want to display their daily trapping and achievements in the form of messages, taglines, pictures, videos etc on such sites. So when I see a photograph of a lonely girl sitting on a cliff silhouetted by the evening sky in ranjeeta's profile, i ascertain that she is missing home. When I see sayan's profile name changed to 'Salman Khan rocks' I conclude that he must be one of the lucky ones to have seen the my hero in city centre mall in Kolkata a couple of days back. or when i see simantini uploading her album with photographs of her friends from C.U, I understand the joviality that was showered on them during her riend's birthday bash. I can cite numerous egs like these. I feel good when I scan through the recent updates of my friends section. smiling pictures greet me. sad taglines worries me. a shocking revelation conjures up in my mind, the different possible reasons for it. But nevertheless, it feels refreshing. Although I havent ventured into any other social networking sites like facebook and twitter other than orkut (I feel that they would be a little confusing for me).
I am reading Jhumpa lahiri's 'Interpretation of maladies' right now. And I have stumbled upon the fact that every Bengali word can have a corresponding english word to it. The style is impeccable and the flow very simple and gripping. 'Mrs Sen's' is a personal favourite. I am not so much exposed to good literature and there have been very few stories that have brought tears to my eyes. Mrs sen's is one of them. As I could not control my tears at the rear seat of my cab when Mrs sen wept yesterday, I felt miserable. This happens with me sometimes. That is why I feel horrified to read rabindranath, to watch a sad foreign film. I stil cant erase the depression that i had developed after consuming the impressions from 'pikur diary', 'the seventh seal', 'bicycle thief', 'pather panchali'. I dont want to dwell in the domain of music, whose reactions on me are even more difficult to veer my mind from. But I do have complains. I didnt like the ending of 'mrs sen's'.
The princeton dictionary defines 'testimonial' as 'something that serves as an evidence'. Well, so the 10-odd testimonials that I have received in my orkut account is meant to be evidences for me, if somebody questions my integrity and suspects the nobleness of my mind. But hasnt it already been questioned and suspected and reached to a conclusion by some people who had once written me testimonials? This is just an ounce of the reason why I shrugged off a couple of them a few minutes ago. The other reason is far more important for me.
social networking sites are a good invention. people have less time now and they want to display their daily trapping and achievements in the form of messages, taglines, pictures, videos etc on such sites. So when I see a photograph of a lonely girl sitting on a cliff silhouetted by the evening sky in ranjeeta's profile, i ascertain that she is missing home. When I see sayan's profile name changed to 'Salman Khan rocks' I conclude that he must be one of the lucky ones to have seen the my hero in city centre mall in Kolkata a couple of days back. or when i see simantini uploading her album with photographs of her friends from C.U, I understand the joviality that was showered on them during her riend's birthday bash. I can cite numerous egs like these. I feel good when I scan through the recent updates of my friends section. smiling pictures greet me. sad taglines worries me. a shocking revelation conjures up in my mind, the different possible reasons for it. But nevertheless, it feels refreshing. Although I havent ventured into any other social networking sites like facebook and twitter other than orkut (I feel that they would be a little confusing for me).
I am reading Jhumpa lahiri's 'Interpretation of maladies' right now. And I have stumbled upon the fact that every Bengali word can have a corresponding english word to it. The style is impeccable and the flow very simple and gripping. 'Mrs Sen's' is a personal favourite. I am not so much exposed to good literature and there have been very few stories that have brought tears to my eyes. Mrs sen's is one of them. As I could not control my tears at the rear seat of my cab when Mrs sen wept yesterday, I felt miserable. This happens with me sometimes. That is why I feel horrified to read rabindranath, to watch a sad foreign film. I stil cant erase the depression that i had developed after consuming the impressions from 'pikur diary', 'the seventh seal', 'bicycle thief', 'pather panchali'. I dont want to dwell in the domain of music, whose reactions on me are even more difficult to veer my mind from. But I do have complains. I didnt like the ending of 'mrs sen's'.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
The Sand and the Sea( Baali aar aami)
Numb, I go
Drenched by the showers of unscrupulous ignominy
Pins and needles
A fit, a rupture
A rupture of cold, gray gloom
Blanketed by some more of it
Entering my soul and paralyzing it
Words stop short
The futility the pain the introspection
The introspection I ignore
For I am a lost soul
Unable to understand myself
Choosing not to
For It knows me. know not me myself
So I live I survive
Amidst the bludgerings and protect my castle
Groping at the sand
Wet by the unceasing and shrewd stream
Propping it up. Admiring it
Only to witness it washed away…again
Only my existence remains as my inspiration
(Obosh ami
Bhije bhije lojjate te, shey paaena lojja
Gaae kaanta
Mrigi fetey fetey beroe
Fetey beroe konkone, kaalo megh
Aar arektu
Shey khuchie dhoke aamar bukey
Aabar obosh
Kotha gulo theme jaae
Haal chhere di koshto te bhetore takaai
Taakieo takaaina
Aami je akta haraano sur
Bujhina nijeke Ma
Chaiona
Kanona Shey chene (taar chenai aashol)
Taai aami thaki aami baachi
Aakromon er maajhe aamar rajprasad taakey aagliye
Baali gulo mutho kore
Bheja baali, joley bheja chalak jok
Aastei thaakey
Durgo baanai Durga
Bhenge jetey dekhi taarpor…aabar
Aamar aami aamar dorpon)
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
The Big Fun
Yesterday after a long time, I watched an ODI innings on TV. India notched up a series win in the Compaq cup beating rivals Sri Lanka by some 60 or 80 odd runs. India was bowling and Bhajji's superb 5-crucial wickets haul swung the game in our favour after the Lankan tigers fought bravely in their 7th wicket partnership. I even watched the presentation ceremony with full enthusiasm. And memories came back...
I wasnt the conventional cricket freak but yes, I used to be super excited during every India match, whether it be with arch rivals Pakistan or Australia or whether be it seemingly minnows, Zimbabwe or Kenya. It was a huge affair for me every time. Endless discussions with friends about our odds of winning the match usually preceeded them. Many a times I have got onto verbal duels with my friends regarding who is a more competent player in the match, Sachin or Saurav? or will Srinath's in swings be a match decider today? How many runs will Debasish Mohanty go for? Or will Mongia pinch hit today or will Kumble's leg spin do the trick? I am talking about the 1996s and the 1999s and the 2002-03s and a couple of years after that. We lacked spinners. Though he picked up 6 wickets once, I didnt admire Sunil Joshi. The other spinners apart from Kumble and Bhajji were negligible. Among the pacers, Srinath and Prasad ruled the mantle usually at that time, supported by either an abey kuruvilla or a Debasish Mohanty. The openers were a delight-Ramesh or Jaffer or Laxman. The Sehwags and the Gambhirs came much later.
From my childhood days I was notorious of playing cricket at home, alone. How? Well i used to bounce a 'cambis' ball on our wall (spun it usually) and I had a knee long slender wooden bat with which I used to hit it all through out my room. And my Mom used to shout aloud seeing the clumsy white spots on our painted walls. But I didnt use to stop. Till now i have broken showcase glass and glass panes by whacking a ball at them, and all unfortunately in my house. Everyday (during vacations and holidays) my daily regimen would be a cursory study session followed by the cricketing bonanza. I used to maintain a copy where I wrote down serially, the batting order and imagined to be in a wide green stadia, cheered by lakhs of people in the stand and an imaginary commentary also used to take place. Ah those were the days-simple, uncluttered and passionate. I also remember, my dad used to bowl to me while I batted-in our house, with the ball occasionally dropping inside the uncovered utensil on the table full of fish curry or hitting my mother in the kitchen. But nevertheless i didnt use to stop, neither learn.
And then there were the cricket cards which came free with chewing gums like big fun and center fresh. Its bliss to recapitulate those fond memories. how I used to hanker after buying me a gum-big fun, which was extra sugary and bland after the initial chews-but then the card which came along with them, which bore the picture and career details of cricketers were the nadir of possession for me. We used to trade them, possess them, flaunt them, brag about them and routinely go through them in awe and disbelief. I was then, uncorrupted by the television, mobile, computer and other gadgets of modernity. I still treasure those cards, which were a source of delight for me in my younger days.
Who can forget the maniacal possession of cricket mags and the posters which came along with them for free. Many times, have i persuaded my parents to buy me a latest copy of sportstar or sportsworld or cricket samrat or cricket world. Not that I used to read them in details but i just used to glance through them, see the pics, read the scoresheets but unmistakably used to perform three things as rituals-savouring the copy, pulling out the posters, treasuring it and treasuring the copy too.
Nowadays, when i see a tabloid copy of sportstar,
i feel sad. The feel of the mag is no more. I was just thinking a few days back-that the unique marketing strategy of luring the kids to buy a gum or a mag by giving a card or a poster free was an unfailing marketing tool too. But sadly, nowadays, youngsters have their own crazes-notably PS2 games, CD Roms, the latest scientific gadget and so on. Television and the internet and the computer games have ensured that those plastic cards and those mega sized posters never come back. But still when I open my treasure trove and rummage my memories or when I watch an India match or read about it in papers, i still feel that pulsating urge to dive back to my past and retrieve those golden bays of untampered joy and passionate existence.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Yeh Dilli hai mere yaar
Two faces of Dilwaala Delhi
Episode 1: Overheard a conversation between an elderly person and a middle aged service man in a bus en route dhaula kuan.
oldman is smoking bidi, thick moustached, white and peppered
service guy is sitting in front of him. apparently had a tiff with someone in office.
service: (irritated) arre yaar! tumko pata nahin smoke karna mana hai bus mein?
oldman smokes
service: oye! sun sakta hain? maine kahan smoke karna mana hai...(looks at the conductor) aap kuch batao inhe! aap log kuch batate nahi...
oldman smokes, glances and mutters incomprehensibly...( i thought i heard 'main pee raha hoon, tera kya jata hai be...')
service man continues for 2 more minutes and concludes...
"saale buddhe! ghar mein beti nahin hai? beti ke saamne peeta hai tu?"
oldman quirks up for the first time: saale behen ch**, main jo bhi karta hoon, karunga. tu nahin dekhta tv apne beti ke saamne? tu saale fashion tv nahin dekhta apne beti ke saamne?
serviceman shuts up for the first time
oldman (smoking): chal tu kaale khan mein, dekhta hoon tujhe...
service: huh! kya kar lega mera? kya ukhaar lega?
passengers laugh. I reflect.
Episode 2: Mera Bharat mahaan. En Route to Delhi from Gurgaon in a jampacked share cab
Traffic police comes up to tavera driver
police: oye bitha le inko, dhaula kuan drop kar dio. duty pe jaan hai
driver: saab, jagah hi nahi hai
police: abbe, bitha le dekh ho jaaega. lawyer hai court pe jaane hai
driver: (curtly) jagah nahi hai!
Police comes near the driver, pulls away the car key. driver protests.
police: saale, nikaal ek aadmi ko! isko bitha le! zyaada karega to challan kar doonga! chal nikaal 5000 rupae.
driver gulps.passengers protest
passenger1 : oye tuney kya samjha hai apne aap ko? police hai to kuch bhi kar lega? banda bol raha hai ki jagah nahi hai. aur tu bol raha hai ki ek aadmi ko nikaal
other passengers: thik hai bitha le...
other police joins in. passenger 1 says: chalo thik hai dekho bitha le
police throws away keys under the wheels. and goes away. driver retrieves it. resumes journey.lawyer is not seen.
passenger 1: dekh leta saale ko, saale behen ch**, ek phone karta DIG ko, sahi kar deta.
others murmur. i yawn.
Imagine l'eclat d'un paysage qui te submerge
Pas a pas, tu penetres dans cette athmoshphere
Tel une sphere qui t aspires ,toi tu regardes qui t inspires
(Delhi-6)
Pas a pas, tu penetres dans cette athmoshphere
Tel une sphere qui t aspires ,toi tu regardes qui t inspires
(Delhi-6)
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Faces
Interview day: Among the new faces, one was extremely alluring. She was a namesake of an Indian beauty pageant winner but was more beautiful than her. Of course, that time i was committed and I didnt have any excuse or willingness to flirt with her. And another thing which was stopping me was the fact that she was almost a 6 footer and was quite charming to not to be proposed before or not to be engaged at that time. As these thoughts clouded my mind (Note: without any intentions to lech), we picked up a conversation which veered around the time tested and 1000 times heard prospects of journalism and stuff about it. She was working with some channel in Mumbai at that time and said that she was very casual about ACJ. It wouldnt matter to her if she did not get through. Anyways, She didnt and I dont know whether it mattered to her or not. It sure didnt matter to me. Also because, later on I heard from a common friend of that girl and mine that she was once knocked-up. There was another girl from Calcutta at whom almost all the men in our college leched about afterwards. Another bengali girl from Pune became a good friend later on, more so as she went on to replace my room buddy's girlfriend and become a source of my inconvenience whenever I strolled in my buddy's room in shorts and tee. There was another bong from Asansol, at whom I looked and made up my mind to make her my sis in college. Well, i coudnt help. She looked so much like a sis. Maybe that's the reason why I almost made up my mind to hit out when a drunken bastard on chennai street teased her, when i was interrupted by my friends. There was another guy who later on went on to become one of closest roomies and i still miss him a lot-the quintessential F-1 expert and a know all about business. He is working with reuters now and is being paid a whopper. He was a guy's guy, really and is currently mending a broken heart due to a girl whom I never thought would be a perfect choice for him. There was another guy, a passout from jadavpur university who I hoped would make it to the college as he was turning into a friend. But he didnt. In the midst of all this sat a mouse-faced guy, smiling at everyone from a distance but never opening his mouth to utter a single word. I felt weird and he didnt looked like a bong, though he was one from Silchar. He turned out to be one of my best friends in ACJ and arguably, the best guy in our college. When I was ushered into the longish room, with a longer table and men and women with even longer and well fed faces, I was a little taken aback seeing the sight of around 8 to 10 people sitting opposite me and the thoughts of them trying to grill me after a few seconds. But then they were sweet and they believed that I was made for television-a thought that did not for once crossed my mind in the last 20 years. I was aghast and said that I want print and only print. But later on, I was offered television and within a few months I found myself fumbling with a microphone in front of a camera which looked like a scary sten gun. But then, such was the environment and our instructor and the ringing faith in me of the teachers, that soon I began to love the medium.
I still remember the interview day distinctly, a day which was a sort of prelude of things to come in an eventful and learning period of 10 months.
I still remember the interview day distinctly, a day which was a sort of prelude of things to come in an eventful and learning period of 10 months.
Kapil Sibal's 'Dus' ka Dum
Kapil babu says that it will rot the rote. Well we are up for it. But is Mr. Sibal's 'Dus' ka dum really foolproof? A brief examination...(grades only!)
So finally a decade long plan to scrap off Class X boards examinations will be implemented. Or rather it will be made optional. In March 2010, there will be exams but no marks, only grades. In March 2011, exams will be made optional and there would be no marks and grades. So the question arises how will the students be evaluated? And the western notion of internal tests, assessments based on personal skills creeps in. Good for many, strange for few and for others, skeptical. Remember the world of Riverdale in good ol' Archie comics? How there used to be surprise quizzes, tests, projects and umpteen homework which made archie, betty, ronnie, and reggie burn the midnight oil over them. A similar thing, if not the same, is going to be introduced by the education minister in CBSE schools-a change which may alter the fabric of the Indian education system. Lets examine whether it will be for good or otherwise...
A. No marks, only grade
The level of competition among students and their parents over ho has scored better and who has outstripped whom by how many marks is on a fanatical and foolish rise. which is leading to extremem steps taken by students-like suicides and by parents-like making their wards work till the last drop of his energy so that he can beat the neighbouring bittu in exams. A mere tool to satisfy their inflated ego. All these would stop through this blanket of a rule which will have no differentiation between a student who gets 91 and the one who scores 99. Though on the flip side, it will tamper with meritocracy. The exact marks, I hear, will not be disclosed. Also, further rectification based on current performance will not be exacted as the marks will not be shown.
B. Comprehensive Evaluation
Meaning assessment through everything except for studies. like speaking skills, oratory, physical education, mental assessment, memory power, diction, emotional skills, attitude towards teachers, school mates and public property, attention power, drawing skills and so on. An international module but very difficult to implement. Why? because of the underskilled and the half baked talent of the teachers in India. A lot of time would require to train the existing teachers in the new formula. And, not sounding cynical, I seriously doubt the assessment capability of our esteemed teachers. But then it will add to the all round ability of a student. There are padhakoos who simply dig themselves up in books and score a perfect ten in exams but are wimps when it comes to public speaking. There are others who are really good in studies but are equally inattentive in classes. This rule may be the nail in the coffin for the under achievements of these students.
C. Internal tests
The CBSE will send some suggestions in the form of question which the schools will set their questions from and evaluate internally (grades will be awarded). No questions of exam pressure. Students can very well chill. Though not to th extent of thinking that my favourite teacher is evaluating my scripts, which may guarantee me better marks. But the concept of favouritism looms large as a possible and later on, inevitable negative to this module. also, I hear that the FAQs will be enlisted on the CBSE website. cant this give access to the students, the possible questions that may come?
D. Extra curricular assessments
Like homeworks and projects. I personally feel that a round the year assessments on shorts like these can go a long way in building up the character of students and also take away the real fear factor among the students-which is exams. Projects will need creativity, the need to pay attention in classes, dexterity among the students. Regular homeworks will ensure that the students follow up whatever was taught in the classes that day and also exercise their brain after that. It will also give the parents another reason to hanker after those students who feel that education is only limited to schools. But this is, apparently, the biggest complains among the children and their parents. They want this regulation to be scrapped as it may bring unnecessary pressure to the students. But surely, nothing can be worse than terminal exams, can it be? Apart from this assessment will also be made on GK, computer science will will enhance the comprehensibility of a student.
So as we can see, everything has its flip side though i appreciate the minister's initiative to revolutionize our education system in an attempt to decrease pressure and increase global standards of the Indian education system. Though the evils of corruption, inability to assess correctly owing to the lack of skilled teachers, competition ( now to the accord of whose child is more attentive, or has the best oratory skills or has dished out the best project) will ultimately and inevitably creep in. So its not a foolproof system entirely. What i feel is that the minister can be a bit slower and impart proper skills to the teachers and remove all doubts from the minds of the students and the teachers before proceeding to implement these. Yes, if the government thinks that it can be possible in another two years and has faith in our teachers' adaptability then nobody should complain. The common man does advocate plans for improvisation but it also demands results...
Thursday, September 3, 2009
A Rick-ety ride back
Friendship for me has nowadays made me a little wary before plunging in it, though I still retain my old habit of making people feel comfortable in my company.
In Gurgaon, I prefer my computer to friends.
Although for the past few months, my spirits are feeding on to some passing chunks of delights. Precisely when I get up on a rickshaw queuing up at IFFCO chowk, thirsting for a passenger, and more so for a fat customer like me. They are all Bengali Moslems from Malda district in West Bengal (a fact tat I have known for the last 6 years) And invariably, they know all the people among their cluster very well, which provides a little consolation to their longing wait for a passenger, when it doesn’t rain. I am a hot property among the Rick wallahs in IFFCO chowk. They know that every day this guy in thick specs and carrying an oversized bag would approach one of us and take a ride till Supermart area for a fair (according to them) or a fat (according to me) sum. It’s a treat to watch their excitement that who will be the lucky one to ply me to my destination as soon as they see me approaching me from a distance. At times I feel embarrassed and very indecisive when a bevy of dark skinned nerve protruding reed like structures, with flies hovering around their uncleaned body stand in front of me advertising themselves and their rickety ricks, and unfailingly cursing other rick wallahs who try to lure me to that hard wooden seat, seemed to be made comfortable by a cushiony cover. But its unmistakable to notice a gleam of fun in their day long strained faces, highlighting poverty, dissatisfaction and a million wishes unfulfilled, as they start their bids. Its fun for me but I still feel the pangs of maybe upsetting the others as soon as I board a rickshaw. To solve this problem I always try not to repeat taking the same rick for consecutive days. I believe it’s a fair practice. After crossing the first polluted and smoke blurting signal, I always offer the rick wallah a biscuit from my tiffin and we continue our journey munching those simple snacks. I have heard so many stories on the way from them about them-family, monthly income, an accident that they have faced; about their families back in Malda-their properties, the feuds within their brothers, how Didi has brought in smiles to their faces after decades of fearing the left and so on. Yes the roofs are low and the ride is a bumpy one, but I seem to enjoy these simple, carefree and unpretentious conversations with them. Moreover they also feel good to steal a discussion or two with their passengers, that too in their native language. As I pay them after the ride, I don’t look at their faces lest that I see a glint of disappointment in them.
But a strain of undercurrent still remains. They are not totally devoid of that money minded mentality. And there have been many days that I need a rick desperately, maybe during rains or something, but don’t find them.
So I still don’t trust them, neither do I try to be really close to them. The old, unassuming, demanding, reckless unsuspecting and unaware-of-my-own-doings nature of me has subsided…for good.
In Gurgaon, I prefer my computer to friends.
Although for the past few months, my spirits are feeding on to some passing chunks of delights. Precisely when I get up on a rickshaw queuing up at IFFCO chowk, thirsting for a passenger, and more so for a fat customer like me. They are all Bengali Moslems from Malda district in West Bengal (a fact tat I have known for the last 6 years) And invariably, they know all the people among their cluster very well, which provides a little consolation to their longing wait for a passenger, when it doesn’t rain. I am a hot property among the Rick wallahs in IFFCO chowk. They know that every day this guy in thick specs and carrying an oversized bag would approach one of us and take a ride till Supermart area for a fair (according to them) or a fat (according to me) sum. It’s a treat to watch their excitement that who will be the lucky one to ply me to my destination as soon as they see me approaching me from a distance. At times I feel embarrassed and very indecisive when a bevy of dark skinned nerve protruding reed like structures, with flies hovering around their uncleaned body stand in front of me advertising themselves and their rickety ricks, and unfailingly cursing other rick wallahs who try to lure me to that hard wooden seat, seemed to be made comfortable by a cushiony cover. But its unmistakable to notice a gleam of fun in their day long strained faces, highlighting poverty, dissatisfaction and a million wishes unfulfilled, as they start their bids. Its fun for me but I still feel the pangs of maybe upsetting the others as soon as I board a rickshaw. To solve this problem I always try not to repeat taking the same rick for consecutive days. I believe it’s a fair practice. After crossing the first polluted and smoke blurting signal, I always offer the rick wallah a biscuit from my tiffin and we continue our journey munching those simple snacks. I have heard so many stories on the way from them about them-family, monthly income, an accident that they have faced; about their families back in Malda-their properties, the feuds within their brothers, how Didi has brought in smiles to their faces after decades of fearing the left and so on. Yes the roofs are low and the ride is a bumpy one, but I seem to enjoy these simple, carefree and unpretentious conversations with them. Moreover they also feel good to steal a discussion or two with their passengers, that too in their native language. As I pay them after the ride, I don’t look at their faces lest that I see a glint of disappointment in them.
But a strain of undercurrent still remains. They are not totally devoid of that money minded mentality. And there have been many days that I need a rick desperately, maybe during rains or something, but don’t find them.
So I still don’t trust them, neither do I try to be really close to them. The old, unassuming, demanding, reckless unsuspecting and unaware-of-my-own-doings nature of me has subsided…for good.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Mr. Porter in the 21st century?
In the morning I wake up disturbed and impatient, longing to realize the commercial, loving and insensitive world ahead of me.
Consolations work and i enter a deep reverie of immaculate memories peppered with a morbid trance and flustered by the tingling sweat on my back, while the chartered creeps slowly to its destination, not mine.
At work, I am sincere and entertaining. When I am not, I am insecure.
Having lunch is a delight. Afterwards, my stomach feels complete.
As I leave work, I tend to get impatient again. By this time, I become a sinner and look back at those olden days of living and glance at the ones, survival.
In the evening, I seldom control my temper. I shout.
And feel miserable at the end of the day, only to be lulled to sleep by a seemingly inconspicuous solace and only to be woken up at the middle of the night by haunting voices, a distant dream and an empty room...
A fragment within a Copy-Editor and Packaging producer, 21
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Before it rained channels...
We got our cable connection in the year 1999 during the England cricket World Cup.
Maybe now its unthinkable but I still cherish the memories of the loads of fun I used to have while switching channels from doordarshan 1 to metro, 10 years back. That was a time when our televisions didn’t have a cable connection. I used to be a TV freak then (Now I limit my viewing to impeccable stuff only) I still remember I appeared for an interview to get an admission in Calcutta Boys school, half hearted and my mind wandering off distractedly to the Shaktimaan episode I was going to miss. Yes, I was rebuked, scolded by my parents for doing so but I never regret the fact till now. And of course, I did not get the admission, less due to my allegiance to Mukesh Khanna and mainly due to the fairly large sum of ‘donation’ asked by the principal from my father.Apologies for digressing. Yes, Television, even if restricted to two channels, was a treat for me to savour everyday. Fond memories are attached to the incomparable Chhuti chhuti which used to be aired on DD 1 during the summer holidays. From puppet shows to cartoons, from children’s movies to informative capsules, it had it all to hook me on to the tube after a reluctant study session and a brisk bath. Ahh those were the days. As the golden sunshine came streaming in through the flimsy curtains used to block it in our drawing room, I used to have sips of lemon cordial made by my Mom and devour the show attentively. Sometimes I wonder, the kind of attention I have given towards Tv and Cinema and books, if a certain percebtage of it was contributed towards Mathematics, Sanskrit, tuitions, classes and studies in a whole, then I would have been a topper of sorts. I was attentive. I had concentration but number one it was short lived and number two, it was directed towards the pursuit of seemingly alluring things which the society and specifically parents consider, or used to consider, as useless. Now of course the perception has changed, partly due to the indispensable medium of communication the Tv is and the maximum attraction of the parents themselves towards the so called idiot box. So Chhuti chhuti was one such program. I was introduced to Feluda and Goopi gyne Bagha byne and Satyajit Ray per se thanks to the wonderful program, which I strongly feel should be revived today. Trust me. Even if the advent of reality shows, soaps, cartoons and 100 odd channels have made their mark on the minds of even toddlers, a fair dose of a chhuti chhuti season would be lapped up with equal significance and curiosity for the things lost and suddenly found.
And of course, who could forget the cartoons in the afternoons? Starting from the 4 o clock slot. Well, I am still unaware of the cartoons that used to precede the 4 o clock timing as I was forcibly made to take a nap during afternoons which I completely abhorred and now passionately long for, by my mother, and which failing to do so attract a thwack out of nowhere on my cheeks of anywhere on my body. So there were many afternoons when I used to lay down, pretend to sleep and in the core of my mind, desire the crawling minutes to speed up and pass on quickly. So whether it be the mickey mouse cartons or swat kats or duckwing duck or duck tales or even super human samurai, they were jewels for me. An everyday treat to my huge appetite for cartoons at that time, which was curbed and eventually was lost after the horrible afternoon tuitions started and instead of watching cartons or playing in the field with my friends, I had to sling a bag and with a heavy heart bid goodbye to my passions and enter the dark dingy world of private tuitions. I can find the flicker of that passion for cartoons in me today in flashes, if I spot a spongebob squarepants episode or if I pick up a calvin and hobbes essential. That time, I didn’t used to miss a single carton any day. I was reluctant to visit my relations due to it, which would draw flak from everybody, and embarrassingly from my relations too.
And then as the day proceeded, there were the serials. Those nostalgic pieces of sunshine which are still deep embedded on the storehouse of my fond reminiscences which make me up and feeds me when I long for my past, uncluttered simple existence. Shrimaan Shrimati. All the best. Naya Nukkad. Non-stop nonsense. Dekh bhai dekh. Bengali soaps which I used to share with my teary eyed mother sitting beside me, like janani and janmabhoomi. I used to be delighted with the background cackling audio which would be set on after each dialogue of hilarity mouthed by some of the best TV stars. I used to go crazy if I wasn’t allowed to watch non-stop nonsense, the comedy series which employed animosity as one of the principle tools of tickling your funny bone-a german extravaganza and an exotic delight for me. When I saw the series a couple of years back or so in a TV channel with its original name of ‘didi’ retained, I was not only bored but also surprised of my lack of interest in the show which was more attractive to me in my childhood than anything else. I guess my passion has left me and have been usurped by News and other shows on TV today. And then came two whoppers of a serial-the danny denzongpa starrer feisty Ajnabi and the family drama Junoon. Both of which was a must watch by me and my mother. The haunting track of Ajnabi still lingers in my mind and the powerful performance of Danny was a true achievment in his career. I didn’t find such an interest in junoon though. Sea Hawks, Captain Vyom, Captain house were the other adventurous soaps which were good timepasses. There was another soap starring neena gupta and a person whose screen name was Mr. Bajaj (I forget its name) loved by my Mom. News, I abhorred at that time. I loathed it if my Dad used to see the 7 o clock DD bulletin, a common practice among Bengali families at that time. Friday night movies were appealing by I had my own limits which restricted my Tv viewing till 10 in the night lest I fail to wake up at 5.30 in the morning next day and go to school. And weekends were not an exception. I also remember having a trifle interest in watching a Japanese soap aired generally during the odd hours of the afternoon.
Of course, apart from my daily diet of cartoons and comedies, bollywood used to be my staple too. From that time onwards I tried to track the happenings around the tinsel town, partly from shows on bolly news and scoops (the names of which I forget) and partly from scouting the entertainment pages in the newspaper. Though I was not so particular as I am now, still I made it a point to watch those shows whenever I was not watching anything else. The epical ‘Durga Durgatinashini’ aired on every mahalaya was a visual and audio wonder which I used to savour with my sleepy eyes at 5 o clock in the morning. Byomkesh bakshi was an occasional treat for me. A word about the brilliant advertisements that used to come on TV at that time. Who can forget the nirma super commercial which I chant even now? The energy of Lifebuoy, the simplicity of spredit margarine, the melody of vicco turmeric, the curiosity of deluxe nirodh, the fun of lijjat papad, the freshness of pepsi and coke and so on and so forth. Those gems are still considered as some of the bests by different admen today. But there were times, when I used to be saddened by the fact that a cricket match was not telecasted on doordarshan and on a private cable channel instead. Or when my friends used to chatter ceaselessly of topics related to programmes on cable channels. But a sneak peek of a half an serial on DD would revive me instantaneously. And when I began longing for cable TV, after its widespread appeal began to entice people from all quarters of life, I knew in my mind that no amount of shows on DD can hold me to it any longer. The pure innocent childhood days were slowly starting to get corrupted by the advent of modernity and advancement.
So that’s the long and short of it. It was a classy episode in my life where I infused a spirit in a seeming lifeless matter. Two channels and a lot to explore. Nowadays, there have been several occasions when I have surfed the 100 channels on my set top box and haven’t been able to stick to one due to the uninteresting drab shown in the channels. That is when I wish that the DD serials and the cartoons be re introduced for people like me who still swear by them. Television was a passion then, Now it’s a tendency.
Maybe now its unthinkable but I still cherish the memories of the loads of fun I used to have while switching channels from doordarshan 1 to metro, 10 years back. That was a time when our televisions didn’t have a cable connection. I used to be a TV freak then (Now I limit my viewing to impeccable stuff only) I still remember I appeared for an interview to get an admission in Calcutta Boys school, half hearted and my mind wandering off distractedly to the Shaktimaan episode I was going to miss. Yes, I was rebuked, scolded by my parents for doing so but I never regret the fact till now. And of course, I did not get the admission, less due to my allegiance to Mukesh Khanna and mainly due to the fairly large sum of ‘donation’ asked by the principal from my father.Apologies for digressing. Yes, Television, even if restricted to two channels, was a treat for me to savour everyday. Fond memories are attached to the incomparable Chhuti chhuti which used to be aired on DD 1 during the summer holidays. From puppet shows to cartoons, from children’s movies to informative capsules, it had it all to hook me on to the tube after a reluctant study session and a brisk bath. Ahh those were the days. As the golden sunshine came streaming in through the flimsy curtains used to block it in our drawing room, I used to have sips of lemon cordial made by my Mom and devour the show attentively. Sometimes I wonder, the kind of attention I have given towards Tv and Cinema and books, if a certain percebtage of it was contributed towards Mathematics, Sanskrit, tuitions, classes and studies in a whole, then I would have been a topper of sorts. I was attentive. I had concentration but number one it was short lived and number two, it was directed towards the pursuit of seemingly alluring things which the society and specifically parents consider, or used to consider, as useless. Now of course the perception has changed, partly due to the indispensable medium of communication the Tv is and the maximum attraction of the parents themselves towards the so called idiot box. So Chhuti chhuti was one such program. I was introduced to Feluda and Goopi gyne Bagha byne and Satyajit Ray per se thanks to the wonderful program, which I strongly feel should be revived today. Trust me. Even if the advent of reality shows, soaps, cartoons and 100 odd channels have made their mark on the minds of even toddlers, a fair dose of a chhuti chhuti season would be lapped up with equal significance and curiosity for the things lost and suddenly found.
And of course, who could forget the cartoons in the afternoons? Starting from the 4 o clock slot. Well, I am still unaware of the cartoons that used to precede the 4 o clock timing as I was forcibly made to take a nap during afternoons which I completely abhorred and now passionately long for, by my mother, and which failing to do so attract a thwack out of nowhere on my cheeks of anywhere on my body. So there were many afternoons when I used to lay down, pretend to sleep and in the core of my mind, desire the crawling minutes to speed up and pass on quickly. So whether it be the mickey mouse cartons or swat kats or duckwing duck or duck tales or even super human samurai, they were jewels for me. An everyday treat to my huge appetite for cartoons at that time, which was curbed and eventually was lost after the horrible afternoon tuitions started and instead of watching cartons or playing in the field with my friends, I had to sling a bag and with a heavy heart bid goodbye to my passions and enter the dark dingy world of private tuitions. I can find the flicker of that passion for cartoons in me today in flashes, if I spot a spongebob squarepants episode or if I pick up a calvin and hobbes essential. That time, I didn’t used to miss a single carton any day. I was reluctant to visit my relations due to it, which would draw flak from everybody, and embarrassingly from my relations too.
And then as the day proceeded, there were the serials. Those nostalgic pieces of sunshine which are still deep embedded on the storehouse of my fond reminiscences which make me up and feeds me when I long for my past, uncluttered simple existence. Shrimaan Shrimati. All the best. Naya Nukkad. Non-stop nonsense. Dekh bhai dekh. Bengali soaps which I used to share with my teary eyed mother sitting beside me, like janani and janmabhoomi. I used to be delighted with the background cackling audio which would be set on after each dialogue of hilarity mouthed by some of the best TV stars. I used to go crazy if I wasn’t allowed to watch non-stop nonsense, the comedy series which employed animosity as one of the principle tools of tickling your funny bone-a german extravaganza and an exotic delight for me. When I saw the series a couple of years back or so in a TV channel with its original name of ‘didi’ retained, I was not only bored but also surprised of my lack of interest in the show which was more attractive to me in my childhood than anything else. I guess my passion has left me and have been usurped by News and other shows on TV today. And then came two whoppers of a serial-the danny denzongpa starrer feisty Ajnabi and the family drama Junoon. Both of which was a must watch by me and my mother. The haunting track of Ajnabi still lingers in my mind and the powerful performance of Danny was a true achievment in his career. I didn’t find such an interest in junoon though. Sea Hawks, Captain Vyom, Captain house were the other adventurous soaps which were good timepasses. There was another soap starring neena gupta and a person whose screen name was Mr. Bajaj (I forget its name) loved by my Mom. News, I abhorred at that time. I loathed it if my Dad used to see the 7 o clock DD bulletin, a common practice among Bengali families at that time. Friday night movies were appealing by I had my own limits which restricted my Tv viewing till 10 in the night lest I fail to wake up at 5.30 in the morning next day and go to school. And weekends were not an exception. I also remember having a trifle interest in watching a Japanese soap aired generally during the odd hours of the afternoon.
Of course, apart from my daily diet of cartoons and comedies, bollywood used to be my staple too. From that time onwards I tried to track the happenings around the tinsel town, partly from shows on bolly news and scoops (the names of which I forget) and partly from scouting the entertainment pages in the newspaper. Though I was not so particular as I am now, still I made it a point to watch those shows whenever I was not watching anything else. The epical ‘Durga Durgatinashini’ aired on every mahalaya was a visual and audio wonder which I used to savour with my sleepy eyes at 5 o clock in the morning. Byomkesh bakshi was an occasional treat for me. A word about the brilliant advertisements that used to come on TV at that time. Who can forget the nirma super commercial which I chant even now? The energy of Lifebuoy, the simplicity of spredit margarine, the melody of vicco turmeric, the curiosity of deluxe nirodh, the fun of lijjat papad, the freshness of pepsi and coke and so on and so forth. Those gems are still considered as some of the bests by different admen today. But there were times, when I used to be saddened by the fact that a cricket match was not telecasted on doordarshan and on a private cable channel instead. Or when my friends used to chatter ceaselessly of topics related to programmes on cable channels. But a sneak peek of a half an serial on DD would revive me instantaneously. And when I began longing for cable TV, after its widespread appeal began to entice people from all quarters of life, I knew in my mind that no amount of shows on DD can hold me to it any longer. The pure innocent childhood days were slowly starting to get corrupted by the advent of modernity and advancement.
So that’s the long and short of it. It was a classy episode in my life where I infused a spirit in a seeming lifeless matter. Two channels and a lot to explore. Nowadays, there have been several occasions when I have surfed the 100 channels on my set top box and haven’t been able to stick to one due to the uninteresting drab shown in the channels. That is when I wish that the DD serials and the cartoons be re introduced for people like me who still swear by them. Television was a passion then, Now it’s a tendency.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Always an Admirer...
A very close link to my identity that has been established in these years is the fact that I am an unconditional fan of Bollywood actor Salman Khan. People who know me also know that I am his fan. And for those who doesnt, its a sorry state of affairs for them. If I look back, I see years of fandom and a throbbing excitement for the actor, which has turned into devotion after many years of reading about him, in fact 'studying' him. Very rarely I have come across such characters who are so very interesting. And with Salman I can very well say that he is as simple as a person can be and as complex as one can be. Thriving in contradictions and thinking straight from his heart, the man stumbles, flares up, cries and smiles at the end of it all. He is a preacher, a sinner, a lover, a child, a father, a fool, a street smart and thus with such a chord of multi faceted extremeties dwelling within him, a misunderstood.
Anyways, analyzing his character will take loads of time and space and more research. In this post of mine, I am announcing the entry of a dissertation which I had done on the life and times of the actor while I was pursuing my post graduation in Journalism from the Asian College of Journalism. Its direct, factual and objective with a smatter of personal leverage here and there. I consider it as a fair achievement on my part to put down my research on the actor for so many years on paper and submit it as a serious topic of discussion, analysis and remarks alongside topics ranging from drought situation, Bilateral relations and other subjects of seemingly serious value. For me, I had my heart in its place and I feel it was a bold attempt for me to write a 10000 words dissertation on the actor in college.
Thanks you, Abhishek Chatterjee for inspiring me with your topic of dissertation.
I would use this opportunity to make my dissertation public and also thank my brother Mr. Raj Sen Gupta, who inculcated and propelled the hero-worship in me. This is also dedicated to all my friends and acquaintances who have supported my fanship and admiration for the star and above all the human being through thicks and thins.
Always an admirer.
Anyways, analyzing his character will take loads of time and space and more research. In this post of mine, I am announcing the entry of a dissertation which I had done on the life and times of the actor while I was pursuing my post graduation in Journalism from the Asian College of Journalism. Its direct, factual and objective with a smatter of personal leverage here and there. I consider it as a fair achievement on my part to put down my research on the actor for so many years on paper and submit it as a serious topic of discussion, analysis and remarks alongside topics ranging from drought situation, Bilateral relations and other subjects of seemingly serious value. For me, I had my heart in its place and I feel it was a bold attempt for me to write a 10000 words dissertation on the actor in college.
Thanks you, Abhishek Chatterjee for inspiring me with your topic of dissertation.
I would use this opportunity to make my dissertation public and also thank my brother Mr. Raj Sen Gupta, who inculcated and propelled the hero-worship in me. This is also dedicated to all my friends and acquaintances who have supported my fanship and admiration for the star and above all the human being through thicks and thins.
Always an admirer.
Preface and Chapter-1
SALMAN KHAN-The Good, The Bad, The Misunderstood...
Yashodeep Sengupta
Television Stream
Asian College of Journalism
I am indebted to Ms. Subhasini Dinesh, my mentor, for approving the topic for my dissertation. Biswadeep Ghosh’s book on Salman Khan has also helped me a lot to confirm my research done on the actor.
I would also like to thank my parents and Ms. Jayashree Mukherjee for helping me with my research.
PREFACE
So what’s so unique about this man that I chose to examine him in my paper?
Those who keep a track of his activities would know how adventurous his career is-how full of crests and crevasses his journey has been. How many times has he got into trouble, how often has he reached the pinnacles of success and how frequently has he tasted dust. Written off by some of the people from the movie fraternity, he is looked up and admired by millions in the country and abroad.
I take this opportunity to trace the journey of the character till now and scrutinize the events that have surrounded him and how have they reflected on his nature and work. I would also recapitulate his road to stardom and the innumerable potholes and pits he had to endure, some nearly resulting in devastation and the untimely end of his illustrious career.
So what moulds the man? What makes him? What mars him? What makes him THE Salman Khan?
Salman’s family, today is the epitome of communal harmony. The family consists of people belonging to different religions. While younger brother Sohail’s wife, Seema and sister Alvira’s husband Atul Agnihotri are Hindus and stepmother Helen and Arbaaz’s wife, Malaika are Christians, the rest belongs to the Islam religion. Everyone dotes on the adopted kid Arpita too. The days when Salman and the other kids were tormented by odd moments of insecurity have been buried. The family, that stands now is happy and united. There have been numerous media reports about gala celebrations held in the Khan household-be it a birthday bash, or festival celebrations, or simply inviting the who’s who of Tinsel town over a supper of Gohsht biryani, Salman’s favourite dish, when a football match is on- The family’s hospitality is appreciated and loved by one and all. Even Fatwas issued by Muslim clergies and groups for his participation in Ganesha Chathurti festival and expressing his desire to play Lord Rama on screen haven’t been able to stifle Salman secular mindset.
It all started…
As it happens to all wannabe Bollywood stars, Salman was also starry eyed about joining the Hindi movie industry but not once did the fact that he can get an added leverage as he is the son of renowned scriptwriter Salim Khan, came in his mind. He started off as a model but was considered unfit to be one as he was very short in height and very thin. In his initial days, Salman assisted director Shashilal Nair, during the making of Falak, a film written by his father, Salim khan, which had Jackie Shroff in the lead. The film did not work at the box office but it got good response from the critics. J.K Bihari’s Biwi ho to Aisi happened to be the launching pad for the actor. Though the film was unspectacular and Salman had a lean physique, he was noted as an actor who had the energy and potential to make it big in the industry. Soon he started working out dedicatedly and now sports one of the most enviable and amazing physiques in Bollywood. He was labeled as a superstar with Rajshri’s grand production Maine Pyaar Kiya which transformed him into an overnight hero and the favourite poster boy for all his female fans. The film was declared a superhit nationwide. Soon more hits like Baaghi and Sanam Bewafa followed and they made him the most saleable actor in the industry. During that period, his career was headed towards a direction where nothing could go wrong. Producer actor Viveck Vaswani went to the extent of paying him the ultimate compliment. “I would not say that Salman is the second best selling star after Amitabh (Bachchan) but would say that he is the first, the most saleable star today.” So how was he able to achieve so much success in so short a period of time? “Luck”, Salman is quoted in Biswadeep’s book. He said that he always knew that he would make it someday but also believed that he had a lot to achieve. Salman even made a massive impact in two hero flicks like Saajan where he teamed up with Sanjay Dutt and Madhuri Dixit. But his run was stopped midway in the tracks by box office duds like Suryavanshi, Ek Ladka Ek Ladki, Dil Tera Aashiq and Chandramukhi. Reporters were just on the verge of writing down his professional obituary, when a path-breaking film called Hum Aapke hain Kaun happened, arguably, the most successful commercial film in the history of Indian Cinema. As Salman says, “The good things about bad times are that they always come to an end.” According to the entertainment trade web site ibosnetwork.com, among the top 20 films of the 1990s, five of them stars Salman Khan, namely Maine Pyar Kiya, Hum Aapke Hain Kaun, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, Karan Arjun and Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam. In his book, Biswadeep observes that Salman ‘acted’ the least on screen. He tries to be as natural as possible, which is clear winner among his fans. “For me, acting comes straight from the heart. In that sense I don’t act at all”, says Salman. So in spite of quite a few flops in his career, he managed to retain his superstardom among the audience with hits like Jeet, Judwaa, Tere naam, Mujhse Shaadi Karogi, No Entry and Partner. Biswadeep also examines that after the two popular Kapoors, in the industry-Shammi and Rishi, Salman is the only actor to have had the confidence to act with so many newcomer actresses in films. The list includes Bhagyashree, Revathy, Raveena Tandon and Ayesha Jhulka. He is one of the few stars to have four or more releases in one year (1998), which were all hits – ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hain’, ‘Pyar Kiya To Darna Kya’, ‘Bandhan’, ‘Jab Pyar Kisse Se Hota Hain’. ‘Biwi No.1’, ‘Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam’, ‘Hum Saath-Saath Hain’ were the top grosser in the year 1999. In 1994, ‘Hum Aapke Hain Kaun’ smashed ‘Sholay’ records (gross) to become the biggest grosser film at that time and did excellent business in the overseas for a Bollywood film. It was the first film to do business of over Rs. 10 crores in the overseas market. He has also done a number of guset appearances in films like Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, Stumped, Sirf Tum, Deewana Mastana, Baghban just to extend a noble hand to his director and actor friends in the industry. Salman has also acted in a
Chapter-2
CHAPTER 2 : CUT IT !!
Hit and Run
Salman Khan and controversies almost sound synonymous. Be it the Land Cruiser incident or the Black Buck shooting case, the actor gets the worst of troubles in his kitty. It was alleged that the actor mowed down some people sleeping outside American Express bakery on Hill road junction in Bandra, Mumbai. He was returning home from a party at Enigma, a pub, in his Land Cruiser when the incident happened. It was 2.30 in the early hours of
In what could not be more unfortunate, the accident killed one of the pavement dwellers, who were the workers of the bakery, and caused serious injuries to three other individuals. The victim was later identified as Nurullah Mehboob Sharif, aged 38 years. He was crushed to death under the wheels on the spot. The injured were quickly rushed to the Bhabha hospital.
According to reports, minutes after the incident, onlookers gathered around the scene and started pelting stones at Salman who fled the spot immediately. Apparently, he was the one behind the wheels and was in an inebriated condition. He was accompanied by singer Kamaal Khan, his bodyguard Ravindra Patil and driver Altaaf. Patil said that initially it was Altaf who was driving. Later, Salman decided to stop the car and meet somebody for a few minutes. After that brief halt, he took over the charge of the car and started cruising the vehicle at a speed of 70kmph. Patil claimed that the actor turned around to speak with him and that is precisely when he lost control over the car. He managed to steer the Landcruiser, some how, away from an electric pole, and ended up climbing over the pavement and ramming the car into the bakery. Unfortunately, the pavement was not deserted. Ravindra Patil filed a complaint with the police immediately after the incident. According to a report in Rediff.com (as written in The Hall of Fame) , when the police rushed to his house to question him, Salman slipped out through the back door said Assistant inspector Nitish Yadav. The next morning every newspaper, every news channel and news portal carried the news which shook the whole Industry- “Salman gets bail in Hit and Run Case” (28 september 2002 indiatimes.com) ; “Salman scoots after crash and kill- surrender comes eight hours after runnimg over pavement dwellers” (The Telegraph September 29, 2002). Critics concluded that this was the last straw and slammed Salman’s career. Analysts predicted his doom and everybody was sure that he was not to be seen in the comforts of his sea facing house for a long time.
Soon his passport was confiscated and was asked not to leave the country and report to the Bandra police station whenever his cooperation was required. On the 7th of October, the actor was officially arrested and produced before a
Earlier there had been cases when actors Puru Rajkumar and Tanuja had been involved in hit and run cases like this and got away unscathed, by paying a mere fine.
Reactions poured in from all directions in abundance. The vicious Salman-bashing in the press and more secretly within the film industry continued.
"If I had my way, I'd tie Salman to a stake. He brings a bad name to the entire industry," says a young and famous filmmaker. "Thanks to people like him, we're looked on as debauched, hedonistic evil creatures. For god's sake, he has killed a human being. Let's not waste any sympathy on him." (
"Salman had this coming to him for a long time. What you do to others finally comes around to you," says an actress who has witnessed the actor's bad behaviour with one of his many girlfriends. "Salman has no respect for women, or for that matter men. His close group of cronies have been pampering his ego, encouraging his bad behaviour to a point where he thought he could get away with anything." (
"Salman is a rich man and he can get away... I just hope I get normal and start earning for my family," said Abdullah sheikh, one of the injured. (
But the industry men, known to support the actor during his lows, proved their mettle this time too. Friends and members of the fraternity like Mahima Chaudhry, Puneet Issar, Kishan Kumar vocally shored up Salman’s case. “I think the media is blowing this accident out of proportion. Why aren't people talking about Salman's good side? He is already miserable about what happened. I am sure he will look after the family of the victims till the end. I am not defending him. But I have known him from the last 22 years.” Said the veteran actor Puneet Issar in Rediff.com They narrated incidents when the actor went out of his way to help accident victims. Friends pointed out how Salman helped Babloo Mukherjee (Keshto Mukherjee’s son) and a lawyer when they met with accidents on and lay unattended.
Columnists like Pritish Nandy tried to present a balanced view and played the Devil’s advocate in this case.
“There are many accidents on Mumbai’s streets every day, tragic accidents in which lives are lost, but we do not file cases of willful murder against those who are involved in them unless there is strong evidence to conclude that it was a wanton and willful act. In Salman’s case no such evidence existed. What existed instead was hostile public opinion that virtually forced the police to imprison him….Whether he is a brat or not is not the issue. The issue is that. the media has actually set him up to be lynched and the politicians, always looking for an opportunity, have exploited it.” (Lynch mob is out to get Salman
A Public interest Litigation was filed against the actor calling for psychiatric treatment on
Salman urged a sessions court on march 6, 2003 to drop the charge of culpable homicide not amounting to murder in his case. He appealed that he was one of the breadwinners of his family and his family needs his support.
He got into a fracas later as it was proved that the Land Cruiser Salman was driving that fateful night did not belong to him. It was instead, owned by some Abdul rahim.
So how was it like for the actor in jail, for the first time? “It was educational. It was meant to be. I had to see that side. Perhaps, I needed to go inside. I’ve always seen only luxuries and good things in life. Never seen discomfort. There are so many people who are in jail for no fault of theirs and they are suffering. It was very unfortunate.”said Salman as mentioned in Biswadeep’s book. He disclosed how he was unable to help the victims by taking them to the hospital which was 20 metres away. “The thing I’m saddest about is the mother whose son died and whom I’ve still not met because if I meet her someone will say I’m trying to buy evidence. Her condition makes me most sad. Her image keeps coming back to me whenever I try to sleep. It haunts me”
Barely six weeks after the hit and run case, Salman met with another road accident this time at Deolali Camp, 10 km from Nasik in Maharashtra. But this time, luckily, no body was injured. On
The Black Buck shooting case
Salman khan was sentenced to 1 year of rigorous imprisonment in 2006 for killing two Black bucks, an endangered species of deer, in 1998, while shooting for the film Hum Saath saath hai in
After a week long stint in jail, Salman recounted how life in the jail was very scary. Speaking to Subha Shetty-Saha in bharatwaves.com, (http://www.bharatwaves.com/news/Life-in-jail-was-very-scary-9546.html) he reveals “It looks all very cool to an outsider. The state of the jail is so bad and when I offered to take care of some amenities, I was not allowed. I think some human rights guys should go there and check on these things. It is horrible for humans to stay in such places.”
Vivek Alleges
Not even two years have passed after the Land Cruiser incident and Salman came out of prison, one event came to the forefront which resonated memories of a turbulent affair between Salman and Aishwarya Rai. A then newcomer in the industry, Vivek Oberoi, son of actor Suresh Oberoi called a press conference on
Underworld
If those were not enough, Salman also had his brush with the underworld. He was the lead actor of the 2000 flick Chori chori chupke chupke. It was alleged that the film was funded by the underworld. Producer Nazim Rizvi was arrested on
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