Lux wala Shahrukh

It's been a while that I have written anything on Bollywood at all. And every time this happens, I start getting all panicky. I loiter around the house, lost in thoughts (making Sonia anxious) and also my bowel movements suffer (making me anxious). So, let me get this out of the way like it should be done, by blogging about all the recent stuff Bollywood has made me sit through.


Garmi wali Thand

In Garmi wali Thand, girls wear overcoats
with short skirts

Student of the Year was made with a purpose. To boost sales of pharma companies: by sending an entire generation of teenagers into depression about how their school isn't as cool as the one shown in the movie, about why the guys can't have those rippling muscles by the time they are sixteen, about why the school-girls can't go on holidays with friends to exotic beaches and strut around in flimsy bikinis, about why if their parents had to be poor, they could at least be able to afford designer clothes and sports bike, like in the movie. Of course, the movie had other agendas too: like launch the next Arjun Rampal (with, possibly, the shadiest ever double-meaning song playing in the background).

In the movie, Kareena kept waiting
for a policeman with a dead son
and a mad wife

Aamir wali Movie

Like all movie-goers, even I was looking forward to the next Aamir movie. Kuch to alag hoga, for sure. Little did I know that it will be baap of all alag movies. It was like Paris Hilton inviting you for a date and then when you reach the venue, you find Uday Chopra sitting there with pink roses in his hands. It was like you showing all answers to the pretty girl sitting behind you in the exam and then during the bye-bye moment, she saying 'Thank you bhaiya'. I mean the performances were good and all, but who the fuck goes and watches a Bollywood movie for performances. Only saving grace was Kareena looking like million bucks, even in the devastatingly KLPD climax.


Lux wala Shahrukh

Sale of Lux Soap dropped sigficantly after
the release of JTHJ

It is perhaps the worst kept secret in India that men use Lux Soap and Fair & Lovely cream (not the mardon wali, but the original one). The sale of Lux Soap had actually skyrocketed after Shahrukh Khan was shown on TV using it, kind of legitimizing what men had always done anyway. But much to HUL's chagrin, Shahrukh plays a 25-year old with wrinkles in Jab Tak Hai Jaan. Men came out of the theater wondering if the same would happen to them if they continued using Lux. The movie also starred Katrina Kaif's wax statue and Anushka Sharma, who was dressed in Lux (different from the above Lux) underwear and banyaan.

Sridevi taught viewers how to speak with
a French guy in Hindi

Sridevi wala Back-with-a-Bang

Midst all the madness, there was a no-nonsense, light-hearted, simple tale of love, respect, dignity and pain, that tickled your funny bone and tugged at your tear-ducts at the same time.

Ok, ok, I am a big-time Sridevi fan (as all those who read this blog already know) and my reviews are normally biased. But this was one good movie, and no one can take that away.


Next post on Bollywood only after I come back from my little vacation and then having seen Mr. Chulbul Pandey in his new avatar *Giggles*

The curse of Rani Mukherjee

We all have these moments of truth in our lives, when we realize that we actually aren't as awesome as we've always thought. And these moments can hit the narcissist in us anytime, anywhere, without much of a warning.

So, I was working my ass off as a treasury dealer, hating my job to the core, but being the nice guy that I am, putting in every bit of me into it. And then the fateful day arrived.

We struck deals with our clients on phone. And because these deals involved obnoxious sums of money, all calls were on recorded lines. So, we could refer to the recording anytime there was an issue on any deal. So, yeah, there was an issue with a particular deal of mine, and my boss and me, went to the back-office to listen to the taped conversation between me and the client.

The recording started playing. There were two people talking. And I was in shock.

Hang on a second. Which one is my voice? Not this one! No, No, No! I sound cracked, a little like Rani Mukherjee!

That was a day I died a thousand deaths. I realized that I speak in a coy (like am scared), kiddish, lame, subdued, cracked (this was the most irritating bit) voice. I hated the tone, the pitch, and everything that sound is supposed to be made of. I can't possibly sound like this! I mean, why me!

I was in depression for a few days. I prayed to God, please make my voice more manly, heavy and tough. Amitabh Bacchan? Ok, I am willing to settle for Arjun Rampal. Ok, maybe, thoda baritone? But that wasn't supposed to happen. I am pretty used to my voice now and have resigned to fate.

As if I ever wanted to participate in Indian Idol. Hmph.


PS: Make no mistake. I am still pretty much in love with myself. The eternal type. Just that there is no harm in laughing at one's own fallacies. Makes life a little more bearable :-)

Ladke ki chaal mein khot hai!

It's been two months in to my new job. I usually take the Metro to and from work. Today a colleague and I left from office together, and we were walking towards the Metro station. Suddenly, out-of-context, he asked, 'Tum modelling karta tha kya?'
I pompously gave him a 'oh-I-get-this-so-often' look and asked with a twinkle, 'Kyon?'
He did not tell me what I wanted to hear.
"Your walk... it's.. weird", he said, while looking at my legs.
"What do you mean weird?"
"You walk as if you are walking on a ramp."
"Huh?"
"Not in a bad way, it's nice, but it attracts others' attention" he added, now that I was visibly upset.

I was taken back to my childhood days when my dad would scold me for not walking properly. I don't walk, I hop, he would say. Maybe, I should have listened to him then. Is umra mein aake yeh sab nahi sun na padta.

Among peers and family members, many have always told me that I walk faster than the rest. But no one, ever, told me that I walk in a weird way. I mean, I have made fun of so many of my classmates on how they walk. No one ever made fun of me! But then, they also had to borrow my notes for studying.

I was brought back to the present by the sound of the Metro's arrival. My colleague was still looking at my legs. "Maybe one of your legs is shorter than the other" he said thoughtfully, as I contemplated pushing him in front of the arriving train.

Are you the new random person in my life?

My LinkedIn profile has been bombarded with 'Invitations' to connect of late. 90% of these are people I don't know. No, nothing spectacular at all has happened in my professional or personal life, which could have catapulted my popularity to new levels. Initially I thought maybe it's my cute-boy-next-door display pic, but nah, honestly, I just have no frigging clue why I am getting these invites. Maybe LinkedIn is the new Facebook, where more 'connections' matter. Just like I was getting these Facebook friend requests some years ago, before I got married that is (*fondly remembers*).

So, I sent this message to a few of them, asking them if I knew them, and also telling them, in a brotherly sort of way, that it would have been polite if they'd sent me a message introducing themselves before sending an invite. That must have scared them I guess, for none of them replied. Now I've stopped sending those messages to random people who add me.

A lot of juniors from college, school, tuition classes (!) add me all the time. Initially I used to do a thorough background check before adding them. Then I simply started accepting all requests, too lazy to investigate. But, now, when I figure that half of my Facebook friend list is people I don't know, I reject any random request that comes. Don't care if the person thinks am rude anymore.

Most of these 'friends' are content at just adding me. And they never bother me, send me no messages, never 'like' any of my pics or status updates. So, I was pretty convinced  that it's just a numbers thing... having more friends! But then there are some weirdos too. So, this chic added me on Facebook a few months back.. had a marwari name, and I thought must be some relative or junior.. and I accepted the request, without bothering to check who she was. She pinged me a few days later-
'Do I know you?'
'I don't know.. you added me two days back I guess'
'Excuse me, I don't add strangers!'
'Funny, because I don't add strangers either! :)'
Two minutes later ...'Now that we are friends, no harm in knowing each other. What do you do?'
I removed her from my friend list.

Kids!

Tittle Tattle

Slight tickling in the ribs,
hiding a smile behind lips,
knuckles feeling light,
head spinning left and right.


It's not anything new,
and no, not something old,
Nothing worth nothing,
and no, not precious like gold.



No more she walked,
she hopped, skipped, and jumped,
No more she talked,
she sang, whistled and hummed.

The longing in the eyes,
and giggle in her pout,
Tittle tattle was all he did,
And she waited, day in and out.

It roars, whether you like it or not

It will not make you roll in laughter at bawdy jokes or PG-13 innuendos. It does not have dhinchak songs that instantly get added to any DJ's playlist. The action sequences are not out-of-the-world like Wanted, Dabangg, Ready or Bodyguard. And, well, okay, it also has the same-ole story rehashed a hundred times in Bollywood already.

And yet, Tiger roars. Roars in its simple humor. Roars in music that slowly grows on you. Roars as it avoids easy traps of melodrama and mushy romance. Roars in amazingly beautiful cinematography. Roars as it rides as much on Katrina's petite shoulders as on Salman Bhai's machismo.

When you put two of the best looking stars in Bollywood together on screen, you don't ask for much more. But Ek tha Tiger offers more, and offers everything that Salman movies these days don't. Take that from a fan who has seen every shitty movie that ever starred Salman, and has adored all of them. 

It's a simple story, told simply. With some subtle, unadulterated fun.

And, talk about screen presence. Fucking screen presence. Just leave Salman on screen, yeah, and all is taken care of. Mashallah.

Bring out the Gunda in you

There are very few things in life that I am really touchy about. Actually, I can consider myself pretty much emotionally dead otherwise, but some topics get me talking.

Calcutta has always been one of them.

It's laid-back, but it's warm, I would argue. People are nice, I would tell anyone who is willing to listen. Men are lazy, but they are progressive, I would coerce them. And most importantly, women are safe here, I would make them believe.

Not like Mumbai where passers-by don't care if you lay writhing on the road in pain, where your neighbors don't even know you exist. Not like Delhi where even women spout abuses in every second word, where the men consider raping any woman they see as their birth-right. Not like Bangalore and Chennai where the auto-wallahs can make you repent why you were born in the first place, where the local populace's antipathy towards North Indians will make you squirm.

But time had to catch up eventually. And it did.

Women are raped, and then they are mocked by the Govt and police for daring to lodge a complaint. Anyone trying to act as witness is also molested, and officers trying to investigate the case are transferred.
Co-passengers turn their head the other way as a child falls off a speeding auto.
People on a busy street in the heart of the city couldn't care less as a gang of rowdy auto-wallahs molest a lady and beat up her husband for daring to protest against their rash driving. Even after the media highlighted the issue, the auto drivers walk free due to political clout, whereas the couple is being tormented.

Ask any person on the road, and he would seem worried. Calcutta is not the same anymore, he will tell you. He is scared, worried and anxious. He is concerned about his own safety and that of his family's.

So, if we have become more and more like the other cities in India, does that mean that we have re-arrived on the commercial landscape as well.. and that like Mumbai, Delhi and other cities, we too will see growth in industry and employment.

The answer is a big fucking No.

We never deserved that, and we don't deserve even now, as I found out today when I tried to enter my bank's premises in the morning. It's an All-India strike called by some union of bank employees. Funny thing is neither me nor any other employee of my bank is member of the union and yet, we were not allowed to enter office by flag-bearers and slogan-shouters. Colleagues in other parts of the country found it funny, it's a fucking strike of PSU bank employees... why is your branch shut? And then they would themselves answer with a smirk, that's Calcutta for you.

Soak No More

She felt it on her cheek,
tiny, wet, stinging,
Her parched skin revolted,
in spasms, short and quick.


Then, there was another,
And a wayward one more,
Her nails dig in her palms,
Of pain, she would not bother.


The drizzle gave way to shower,
And then, rain, ruthless and fierce,
Her clothes clung to her pale skin,
Head sunk, her feet knelt lower.



Then something inside, deep,
Exploded through her eyes,
The rain would soak her no more,
As tears would run, streak, creep.



This poem has been written as part of IndiBlogger's "The Surf Excel Matic #SoakNoMore Contest".

Of Kajras, Chummas and Mungdas

Item numbers have always formed an integral part of my movie-going experience. And I, for one, take them seriously boss. But then this post is not about the over-the-top item numbers of today.

This is about those songs which made you shamelessly dance away in drunken glory at some point of time in your life, songs which you have karaoke-d with your chaddi-buddies when you were young and innocent, with suppressed giggles and an eye on the lookout - you wouldn't want grown-ups to hear you singing them, songs which when played today seem like a forgotten tune, but then you hum along nevertheless, remembering fun that was of yesterday.


Confused?

Lemme make it easy. Imagine a group of drunken men dancing - late 20s, early 30s, middle-aged. Drunken men dance like.. umm.. drunken men. But, then, at times, the dancing attains a different level of totally mad frenzy.. when the DJ plays certain item songs. This post is about such songs.



Saat Samundar - Clearly one of the reasons why Vishwatma shouldn't be labeled a forgettable film. No, the song's not on the list because of a gyrating Divya Bharti alone. The lyrics inspire some of the most imaginative dance moves ever.

Jhuma Chumma de de - One song that makes every guy on the dance floor think of himself as Amitabh Bacchan out to woo the Kimi Katkar dancing a few feet away. The flirtatious undertones of the song provide perfect cue for discarding all sanity, and sensibilities.

Mungda - Without exception, all songs of Helen are pieces of majestic art. However, Mungda surpasses all of them in its sheer sensuality. Helen wasn't exactly very young when this song was shot.. and yet, she could easily have given the Sheilas and Munnis of today a run for their money.

Oye oye - If there was one thing that Rajiv Rai got right in his movies, it was to have peppy numbers in place, and make cute looking actresses maro latkas and jhatkas on them. Not surprising then, that a lot of songs from his movies feature on my list. For Oye Oye though, it wasn't Sonam (who Rajiv Rai later married) alone, it was also Nasiruddin Shah's rustic nautanki that made the song what it is. Tridev had other good item songs too (in particular this one where Sangeeta Bijlani seduces the entire theater), but nothing quite compares to Oye Oye.

Tu cheez badi hai mast mast - Clearly Mohra was the one movie that highlighted Raveena Tandon's career in Bollywood. No, she did not play a very important role in the movie. She only danced to rapchik songs like Mast Mast and Tip tip barsa pani.

One two ka four - The only male item song that deserves a mention here. I can't say whether it was Anil Kapoor's moustache (as if he needs any more body hair), a demure looking Madhuri, the sheer narcissism portrayed in the lyrics or some unknown mystery that makes the song a favorite.

Ek do teen - Tezaab could have been a cult movie. Many say it already is. Not me. And I can't decide on what shouldn't have been there in the movie - Chunky Pandey? Mandakini's hamming? And if it is indeed a cult movie, then it is only because of Mohini and her counting abilities.


Kajra Re - It is with a lot of self-control that I have included this song here. My antipathy for the femme fatale who danced on this song is not unknown really. But this song is legendary, alrite, and I couldn't have not included it in my favorite list, in spite of her and a nauseating Abhishek Bacchan. As consolation to myself, I will put up a pic of Rakhi Sawant dancing on this song instead.


Choli ke peeche kya hai - When I was really really young (not too young to not understand what this song meant though), my uncle had gotten this recorded in an audio cassette and would secretly play it when no one was around. To his bad luck, the cassette was soon discovered and promptly thrown into the dustbin. It's tough to decide what makes the song so vulgar (and hence, so interesting to drunken men) - the lyrics, Madhuri's dance, Neena Gupta's suggestive looks or the lust in Sanjay Dutt's eyes. Do watch the video, if only for the hilarious subtitles that I managed to find.

Last Note: This is my list. Your list can be, and should be, different from mine. So Chill, and have fun :-)

The Baap List of all Item numbers!

Coming Soon.

Watch this space for more!

Update: If you really wanna read, just go here.