Hi friends,
The Wheels of Time move and bring on another year-
another set of hopes and aspirations,
another bout of challenges,
another voyage of discoveries and revelations,
another round of trials and tribulations,
another galaxy of glories and achievements,
another cluster of relationships and associations,
another bunch of joys and gaiety!
Here's hoping you stroll through this year, head high, spirits intact and soul reinvigorated......!
HAVE A GLORIOUS YEAR AHEAD..!
Bajirao Mastani, truly a masterpiece. Brilliantly directed and exceptionally well-acted, the movie leaves you enthralled and touched to the core.
Sanjay Leela Bhansali has mounted this historical love saga on a grand, lavish scale which is alluring by its opulence and captivating by its high octane emotions.
The three protagonists excel in their roles like never before. Ranveer singh is outstanding as Bajirao, the dynamic, proud maratha warrior who falls hopelessly for the heartbreakingly beautiful Mastani, portrayed aptly by Deepika who is pathos personified. Priyanka Chopra is a revelation as the aggrieved wife, Kashibai; regal and proud even when hurt and slighted by her husband's dalliance. The ensemble cast too has well supported this epic elevating it to a surreal level.
Every emotion, be it patriotism, regional pride, religious zeal, undiluted passion or single-minded devotion, is pitched to the right degree so that you swim with its flow but don't drown in any excesses. At the end you applaud the depiction of this tragedy in a celebratory manner by the maker. Take a bow, SLB !!!
Two movies;
Two different genres....
Two niche audiences...
Too many hurdles and glitches(protests, bans..)....
Pitting Dilwale against Bajirao Mastani is like comparing Mexican tortilla with Turkish baklava.The former is zingy, piquant, blatantly-in-your-face, flashy treat bound to leave you breathless but satiated. The latter is a classical, traditional, nutty and syrupy dessert laden with history and grandeur.
Similarly both movies possess the power to mesmerise movie buffs in their unique, exotic way. Hence choose your course as per your appetite and taste buds. An instant gratification fare versus a lingering luscious aftertaste. You can ofcourse gobble both without fearing indigestion. For some things are meant to be relished and not dissected ad nauseum. Comparisons are odious especially between products/people not walking on the same platform.The magic of cinema needn't always be analysed or compartmentalised objectively.
Take your pick of the pic and dive into a whirlpool of make-believe worldclass restaurant for three hours, devouring their delicacies ravenously.
Bon appetit !
My Papa didn't preach.
He never needed to. He lived his life as a fine example of how it should be led; with courage, simplicity, humility and grace. He possessed an immense amount of inner strength and iron-clad will power to withstand any kind of adversity. People who knew him will vouch for his courage of conviction and tenacious temperament. His abhorrence for any kind of vulgar display of lucre and power was also well known.
The life-lessons I have learned by just observing how he led his life are invaluable personally and relevant inter-generationally. His magnanimity touched and enriched a number of lives in his lifetime.
His passion was singing, his prized possession his harmonium. His biggest luxury was his Fiat car (loyalty meter ran high). His sole indulgence was the Benarsi paan. And this when he could have very well afforded a fanciful lifestyle. It takes a rare kind of person to 'choose' simplicity over the extravagant, hedonistic way of living.
Life is harsh, especially when it takes away our loved ones. It's up to our hearts to hold all the memories, our minds to stroll through them intermittently and our souls to bask in their glow. You can't bring back to life the ones gone but you can relive them and feel their presence by virtue of fond remembrances.
As I just did!
Happy birthday to you Papa, in heaven and beyond.
Proud to be your daughter.
"He has the personality of Gautam Buddha," said Salman Khan about Sooraj Barjatya, the director of his magnum opus, Prem Ratan Dhan Payo, who has presented the Diwali fare after a sabbatical of 16 years.
Undoubtedly, the director's goodness of heart and love for squeaky clean relationships, strong filial bonds and straight-laced humour comes forth emphatically. Lavish sets, magnificently built palaces, ten tuneful songs with ten thousand people gyrating in sync present a stunning visual. The pluses end there. Ek raja, do rani, sautela bhai, sauteli behene, double role (crown prince vs Commoner), mistaken identity, neglected rajkumari, sheesh mahal (and that too by a Niagara like falls) - sounds quite like Amar chitra katha of 1980's, doesn't it? That's how antiquated the wafer thin plot of PRDP is! No layering of characters, no engrossing palace intrigues, no sub-texts to the supporting cast, are some of the loose ends which flounder this marathon of a movie (almost 3 hours long). Salman Khan is endearing but subdued, Sonam is pancaked pretty, Anupam Kher and the rest of the cast are lacklustre infront of the cinematic opulence which overshadows the proceedings especially towards the second half when it becomes a documentary on bhai-dooj !
Barjatya ji, aap is Diwali bahut sara ratan aur dhan payoge (for the trade pundits have predicted it to be a megahit) but hum audience entertainment nahin payo.
Talking Toms, Just Chill!
Are we talking too much? Are Indians getting too verbose? Is India on the brink of a verbal volcano? Well, it seems so! Every Tom, Dick or Harry is talking, over each other, sometimes in tandem, but often at cross purposes. Everyone has an opinion on everything! Bizarre. Any stray comment on communalism, religious affiliations, intolerance etc. is turning non-entities into celebrities and celebrities into pariahs. Sad and disturbing. Are things really that bad or are good people talking a lot about the perceived bad stuff, making it appear really ugly?
An aware and enlightened 'junta' is an asset in any democracy but firing loose cannons at the smallest pretext is stretching things to pitiable limits. Freedom of speech is breeding motor-mouths with ample public platforms to spurt out verbal volleys at an alarming speed. Let's not pay heed to the overactive, hyperbolic social media and channels making mountains out of a molehill.
Get real, talk real, act real, folks. Pseudo-intelligence is passe'. Talking per se isn't bad as long as it's issue-related and not accusatory and counter-accusatory, setting off unsavoury chain reactions. Every statement by a celebrity or a politician does not merit a full throttle gang-war. Chide, chuckle and move on. It's as simple as that.
Lie low...stay calm,
Get slow....rest your palm,
Find peace....apply balm,
Choose serenity.... Reject the ruckus,
The stampede for success is self destructive.
EXHALE.!!!
Flush out fears...demolish the demons,
Cleanse the soul.....become whole,
Abandon mirages.....discover yourself,
The clamour for glamour is frivolous;
EXHALE !!!
Embrace life...expect the frailties,
Face challenges. ...accept the follies,
Learn from mistakes. ..welcome the outcome,
The discord in God's accord is for a reason. .....
EXHALE !!!
Let go......of negativity,
Cut loose....your losses,
Don't weep....over the bygones,
Don't give up .....scope for hope,
The tower of inner power is invincible. ..!
EXHALE. ..!!!
Red tapes,
Yellow Journalism,
Saffron Supremacy,
Green Crisis,
Blue Laws,
Purple Protests,
Grey markets,
White Lies,
Black Bans….!
That’s the palette of INDIA, filling its canvas with,
A Streak of Despair,
A Ray of Hope,
A Splash of Sorrows,
A Rainbow of Joys,
A Smidgen of Gloom,
And,
A full Spectrum of unbridled joie-de-vivre !
Before you could react from astonishment to disgust and despair, controversy's favourite child, our very own megastar bhaijaan, does a volte-face over his series of scandalous tweets (sympathetic towards Yakub Menon) ostensibly made under the influence of a midnight stupor. Pertinent point is, is he ever in his senses?
After an extraordinary image makeover from a hotheaded, muscle-rippling, don't-give-a-damn dude in previous money-spinners to a golden-hearted simpleton without a deceitful bone in body in his latest blockbuster, Salman Khan must be having the last laugh all the way to the bank. He has successfully dodged a stay at cells (at least for the time being) to stay bindaas at the celluloid, mocking his detractors and naysayers.
He does have his saviours though, from 'badnaam' munni to an angelic munni...! If one was the ultimate fantasy queen,the latest is quite like a fairy princess, pristine and beatific. The former resurrected his erratic, down-swinging career graph while the younger Munni has aided in cementing his supremacy at the superstardom ladder. Lady Luck smiles at him while Destiny Dear has him under its folds. No wonder, this nearly fifty years old guy is developing fifty shades of megalomania.
Like millions of Hindi cinema lovers, I've been his fan since 'Hum aapke hain Kaun' days, loving his onscreen supercool projections and dismissing all his off-screen inanities and news of shenanigans with just a frown. Popular opinions have him as a lovable rogue, a generous and helpful guy with his heart at the right place while his head does all the wrong. The fact that at times he crosses the the limits of civilised behaviour, takes people for granted, flouts the judiciary and the laws of the land, is all forgiven and forgotten repeatedly.
When an aging neo-nabob needs his father (Salim Khan)to come up to his defence and coverup his indiscretions, it reveals the stunted mental growth of big guys like Sunjay Dutt and Salman Khan. Big guys with little brains and even lesser common sense trying hard to hoodwink the public by becoming this 'bade dil wala' human being and diverting attention from their majorly flawed personalities. But the biggest sucker is the idolising junta which lets a celebrity get away with all his asinine utterances. Either you believe in what you say or shut up. If you take a stand, stick to it, face the cacophony, but at least show some integrity by holding onto your beliefs and viewpoints firmly. Or maybe you DO have a stand, presumably not favourable to the country, but which can't be talked about for obvious reasons ?In which case it doesn't bode well for you, or for us, the zillions who like (a gross understatement) your movies and enable you to earn gazillions.
Paper Tigers (pun intented) never did any good. Bhaijaan won't benefit at all by extending 'bhaichaara' towards an established terrorist. Being human is good but being soft towards hardcore anti-nationals isn't cool. Bajrangbali ki Kasam !
Seldom has any instant food captured the imagination and taste buds of a country as did Maggi noodles when it first arrived in the subcontinent in the early eighties. For a country thriving on fresh food and wholesome eating with prime emphasis on cereals and grains, the advent of Maggi noodles with its 'two minutes' tagline opened new frontiers of instant fancy cooking. International cuisines were out of bounds for ordinary citizens. Although Chinese cuisine was getting increasingly popular amongst the generation X, one didn't attempt to replicate the intricate haute cuisine at home. In this scenario, Nestle's foray in introducing the maggi noodles into Indian market was an instant success.
Television had just gathered momentum after the 1982 Asian games held at New Delhi. India was well poised for its experimentation with world films and food. Our drawing rooms were suddenly full of good-looking people telling us what to wear, what to eat, what to see, who to admire and how to step out of our closet. Tempting days lay ahead. The globalization of India had begun and the world far away was no longer a mystic dream.
Maggi ads targeted the young spirit craving for yummy, out-of-the-box recipes rather than the staple pakodas, samosas, cutlets, parathas etc which our mothers specialised in treating us to. A cup of hot water, a packet of noodles with its little pouch of masala...two minutes cooking time and VOILA...! You got a slurpy, delicious bowl of noodles ....any day, any time. The ease with which one could jiffy up a mouth-watering snack made even our mothers warm upto this outsider rather than banishing it. As times went by, the elders too embraced the maggi noodles whole heartedly. At colleges and hostels it became a mandatory item along with a packet of chips or biscuits. You knew you could never go hungry with a Maggi noodles packet by your side. Summoning up a cup of boiling water to ready the whole thing was never going to be that difficult a task. Maggi noodles was everybody's comfort food in no time. Not surprisingly it continued its dominance for over 3 decades. Product innovations and smart packaging kept luring the youth into the magical world of Maggi despite several sporadic warnings about it being unhealthy.
The recent laboratory tests which found lead in excess of the permissible limit and MSG in packets of Maggi has brought out the unsavoury aspects of an otherwise star-stellar eatable. As a concerned mother of growing kids, I'm facing an uphill task deterring my offsprings to lay off their favourite food for the time being.
Arguments floating around that no food item is 100% safe is tantamount to criminals arguing that no human is angel ! I must say it stands on very flimsy grounds. Nestle ought to come up with convincing arguments in defence of its star product. After all it isn't just any other food item but one that had become a reliable friend of millions of Indians over the years. Brand Maggi has taken a severe beating. Parents and advocates of healthy eating feel vindicated. "I told you it's not healthy", they may smirk but what's at stake isn't just the lab findings but the breach of trust we feel at the lack of quality control over branded food products. Topping it all is the guilt of having fed our kids kilos of toxicity , eyes wide open, all these years !
As of now Maggi Mania Express has come to a grinding halt. Whether it gets further derailed or recoups to come back on the right track is going to be an interesting watch. The wait is definitely going to be more than 2 minutes.
Am I going to start reading labels and researching funny sounding ingredients in an item before consuming ? You bet I am !
We all loved Piku- a wholesome, winsome, funny and endearing tale of a modern woman and her tumultuous relationship with her cranky, hypochondriac, septuagenarian father.The fact that the fabulous Mr.Amitabh Bachchan portrayed Piku's father made us love the old man so much more. His continued obsession with his belly motions had us in splits. The wit and the banter between the two and the various other characters in the movie seemed so real and quite in tandem with our middle class sensibilities. Like the protoganist Piku, today's generation is torn between love and duty for aging parents and pursuance of personal goals and ambitions. Who wins in the tussle is anybody's guess? A lot of folks are fine tuning themselves according to their kids' wishes and lifestyle but a few like Bhaskar Bannerjee, Piku's father, have subjugated their logical reasoning at the altar of the selfish gene working overtime in their frail bodies. Yes, it sounds blasphemous but an undeniable and uncomfortable fact screaming at us is that Parents can be selfish too ! At times their self obsession and an overpowering need to be cared for by their offsprings blinds them to their children's aspirations and the practical aspects of life. They don't hesitate in imposing their will upon their kids and often resort to the 'brahmastra' of emotional blackmail to win their case. No arguing, no debating, they are the judge and jury. Next only to the almighty!
When we see Piku's father, we see a class act by Amitabh Bachchan and get mesmerised by his brilliance as an artist. We fail to get put off by his excessive dependence on his grownup, harried and multi-tasking daughter trying her level best to build her life around her whimsical father's numerous eccentricities. His reluctance to allow her to marry anyone, his weirdly embarrassing comments (she's not a virgin, he says to a first time acquaintance), his obstinate ways aiming at deliberately making life difficult for her don't scandalise us because we know it's just Amitabh enacting one of his characters par excellence. On analysing the character dispassionately, it becomes clear there is a scared old mind set on high self-preservation mode behind the agglutinant father who wants to hold onto his daughter as a lifeline. He is unapologetically clinging and demanding. It's obviously amusing for the audience but clearly enormously exasperating for the girl at the receiving end of the drama; the loving, dutiful daughter at the end of her tether.
"You can't judge parents", Piku says defensively about her father after his death. Here is an intelligent, no-nonsense girl who tolerated a lot of shit from her father. This one line summarises the beauty of a parent-child relationship. It doesn't adhere to ordinary standards of behaviour. You don't always need to critically analyse each other. You know each other's weak points ,you learn to accept them and still love one another limitlessly, timelessly - Selfishness be damned. Genes win. Always.
Golgappa, Puchka, Panipuri, Batasha. Varied names in varied regions, but all conjuring up a similar image...a small, round, puffed, crispy fried puri punctured at the top, filled with mashed potato or chickpeas, brimming with spicy and tangy water. This taste wonder is meant to be eaten in one mouthful to relish the different competing elements that fuse brilliantly to bring alive your senses. It has the pride of place amongst all street foods in India. Its supremacy is arguably challenged only by the Samosa which is equally tasty but is considerably less messy to eat.
It is definitely not haute cuisine in presentation but who cares? It is MOUTHWATERING, quite literally! The Golgappas require a certain degree of skill to be able to eat it comfortably without making a spectacle of yourself. But, what it lacks in finesse and presentation, is compensated for by the flavour which arguably is the pinnacle in gastronomical delight! Golgappas are not for the faint-hearted; its spicy, sweet and sour water can cause your eyes to water and lungs to choke if eaten rapidly. They should ideally come with a warning - proceed with caution !
Every city in India has its own landmark 'chaat' speciality shop where you take your guests with a sense of pride! U.P. is the front runner in Golgappa shops. Delhites and Mumbaiwalas can boast of the best shopping malls and city landscapes but can't match the humble 'chaatwalas' of U.P. in taste and zing.
At the same time, you need to be a regular 'chaat' eater to be able to discern the best Golgappas from the many copycat versions mushrooming at every nook and corner in North India. Hygiene also plays a major role in the battle of the Golgappas. No wonder the best 'chaat' shops have upped the ante and items like distilled water, glass covering (to keep flies at bay) and disposable gloves for the servers have become mandatory.
Traditionally, women have been widely believed to be the great Golgappa lovers but men crave this divine wonder just as much, if not more. Historically, women remained vegetarians as eating meat was not considered 'virtuous' and thus were limited to vegetarian delights whereas men had a more varied palate. In the same vein, eating meat was considered 'manly' and showing appreciation for vegetarian food esp 'chaat' was considered showing effeminate tendencies!
The Generation Y is abandoning indigenous golgappas in favour of 'imported' burgers and pizzas. I suppose it isn't cool anymore to express any fondness for your native language or food. Or maybe, it's just that their taste buds and palate have altered like their other lifestyle choices.
Regardless, the modestly priced and easily available Golgappa remains the favourite of millions due to its unique flavour and tingling taste. The good old Golgappa is a great friend when you are broke or feeling low or both. It is highly addictive - you just can't stop even when your tummy says you are done and the tingling burn in your throat says 'ENOUGH!' You listen to your heart which says: Go on, Go on ....gol..gol..golgappas...:-D
KUCH CHATPATA HO JAYE !
At times you embark upon an issue with noble intent but along the way you lose the plot and crossover to the bizarre and ridiculous. The new age brigade of successful and self professed 'women of substance' are such species who are inadvertently, trivializing the issue of women empowerment by advocating a convoluted thought process and a debauched lifestyle.
An average indian woman is trapped in the moribund shackles of traditions and gets little leverage to break out of it. They are the ones who need to live their life their way which is the way of courage and compassion. They are in need of CHOICES...decent and intelligent ones enabling them to live their life with dignity and empowering them to resist undue domination and suppression by society (male n female included). The freedom they aspire for is freedom to pursue their education and career, freedom to realise their true potential, freedom to make sensible choices for themselves in personal and family matters, freedom to have their say and being heard without being ridiculed. This is what they require and not the choice of being gay or adulterer or whatever.
The likes of bollywood celebrities and pseudo journalists with their brand of aggressive and over the top notion of women power, sit in their ivory towers and seek to hog the limelight by riding on the women's lib bandwagon. Nothing could be more regressive than pitching yourself as a woman who fast tracks on the road to success, piggybacking not on genuine talent and hardwork but cheap titillation.. Pathetic effort Deepika, especially after that honest take on a taboo topic like depression.. You are defeating the very cause u are trying to champion..! Breaking some taboos make for convincing tableaux while breaking others only help in hard selling the tabloids. Your life, your choice...! To toast it or 'roast' it ...
Review of Book : 'Benares- a journey within' by Roli JindalFOR THE LOVE OF MY CITY-'Benares- a journey within' by Roli Jindal, is a multi-hued compilation of recollections and celebrations, of memories and experiences, and of facts and interpretations tinged with the writer's surplus love and reverence for her hometown. The book's nonlinear narrative is free flowing, humorous and engaging. Every page tells a story in itself...complete and insightful. From the world famous benarsi sari, delectable sweets and 'chaat', the drool worthy 'paan', the renowned temples, the mighty river Ganga and its majestic ghats, the quartet of universities and home to the famous Benares Hindu University ( B.H.U.), Benares has been unfolded vividly and glowingly by the writer. To give her credit, she also mentions the sore points plaguing the city like river pollution, staggering traffic jams, messy and chaotic infrastructure and deplorable power supply but none of which diminish the city's inherent charm in any manner.
The essence and ethos of a vibrant and pulsating city like Benares, with all its glory and glitches, has been captured adroitly via personal anecdotes, hear-says and the vast sea of information and perspective provided by family members living in here for generations. Unlike other celebrated books on Benares this one focuses more on the daily routine, mores, beliefs and practices of an average Benarsi and less on the mythical and abstract aspects, probably because it's under the scanner of a true blue benarsi and not some random foreigner donning quixotic glares. This is exactly where the book scores; an insider's view and perspective as opposed to an outsider's jaundiced viewpoint is almost always more authentic and appealing.
As a fellow native, I thoroughly relished this kaleidoscopic tour of Kashi and I am hopeful that every reader will follow suit. It's a journey into the heart of a city which is an embodiment of Hindu tradition and culture. Trust me, it'll be a fascinating ride, one you won't regret taking.
The BBC documentary on Nirbhaya is heartrending, hard-hitting and blood curdling in its depiction and presentation of facts like never before. We, who pride ourselves to be amongst the educated and enlightened lot were jolted out of our complacency and reverie with a thump.That human values have reached their nadir is apparent when the most horrific of all horrifying crimes is defended with a straight face showing no signs of distress, remorse or an iota of guilt. This defiant attitude of the convicts is greatly disturbing, revealing a deeper malaise in the lower class of the society whose aspirations are not being matched by the opportunities available. Lack of education and abysmal social surroundings coupled with weak family ties are producing youth with criminal intents and misplaced justification for their acts. The potential rapists (ones lurking around like predators, waiting to pounce whenever they get a chance) outnumber the actual ones who get caught.
The massive hue and cry against BBC is uncalled for. India's honour is not besmirched by a documentary made by a foreigner. If anything it has only facilitated in shifting the discussion from drawing rooms and virtual world brouhaha to having an internal dialogue with self. It sets you pondering and wondering over the gender biases which have seeped deep into Indian psyche over centuries. Before chastising a foreign media for its supposed sensationalism of a sensitive matter, let's not forget that India's best movie on the father of the nation was made by a Britisher and has been worn like a badge of honour by India for over 4 decades. If we fall short of compiling and projecting succinctly the things we pride upon or feel ashamed of...it is our collective failure. This ostrich like tendency of burying our heads in sand and wishing to ignore perturbing issues is another public lacuna which needs to be addressed asap. The moot point is not who told it first or how it was told but what to do so that there are no such stories to be told ever. A utopian society is a wishful thinking but let's examine our collective consciousness and work towards grafting enough deterrants either in legal system or in the social milieu so that rather than their exploitation, women are welcomed at birth, saluted in lifetime and revered after death.
DEDICATED TO ALL THE DAUGHTERS, SISTERS, WIVES AND MOTHERS ON THIS INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY
I want to grow,
I want to live,
Stop killing me.
I want to speak,
I want to laugh,
Stop gagging me.
I want to see,
I want to admire,
Stop blinding me.
I want to relax,
I want to enjoy,
Stop censuring me.
I want to explore,
I want to discover,
Stop confining me.
I want to stretch,
I want to unwind,
Stop stifling me.
I want to think,
I want to imagine,
Stop suffocating me.
I want to love,
I want to be loved,
Stop hating me.
The nation wants to know ,"Where is Rahul Gandhi?" As Arnab Goswami's infamous tagline goes, this is the question driving the media crazy and stirring up undue frenzy all around. Speculations are streaming galore and conjectures being connived rapidly, ranging from the plausible to the ridiculous. For a country battling with a plethora of problems and contentious contemporary issues, this extreme curiosity for the whereabouts of a reluctant and arguably incompetent politician brings forth the remnants of a colonial hangover. It's time to break free from this commoner mentality of always wanting to know what the privileged ones are upto. Lets give the guy a breather. The prodigal always returns. The pertinent question is should we even bother if he does or not ?
