The Idea of Tolerance

Here’s a thing about Aamir Khan. He, either accidentally or by design, manages to bring attention to things that most people merely pay lip service to. Lagaan changed our outlook towards Oscars, Rang De renewed our sense of civic justice and Ghajini made Christopher Nolan more famous in Tohana than Dark Knight ever could. Though I don’t fully agree with his remarks last week, I hope they prove to be a similar catalyst in contextualizing what ‘intolerance’ really means to the average Indian. What defines tolerance? Do we have a unit to measure it with? Also, if intolerance is increasing – as felt by Aamir Khan – how do you gauge its incremental value over time? Can you use time series analysis or apply Tableau storyboard to visualize any marked changes in the last 7-8 months? That’s probably a topic for another day or the premise of Satyamev Jayate’s next season premier.

I just want to touch upon this issue from two aspects: the idea of intolerance in India and its correlation with time. While our tolerance level towards some of the most contemptible and regressive behavior has surpassed Gandhian proportions, we tend to generously save our disgust for all the hapless people, places, animals and things.  

Let’s see some of the use cases for the benevolent Indian tolerance. In last 30 years, our threshold for corruption in public office has risen from a minuscule 67 Cr (Bofors) to an excel-crashing figure of 1.76 L Cr (2G). A few weeks back, we voted to bring back to power an illiterate man, who was just convicted in a 20-year-old scam for embezzling funds originally meant to purchase fodder in Bihar, India’s poorest state. This man, in his previous stint as the chief minister, used to run an official kidnapping/extortion racket in his beloved state. We have absolutely no issues with giving him a second chance in Bihar with that thumping victory. Far from being persona non-grata, our man was throughout the darling of the English media, which treated him the same way Abbas-Mustan treats Johnny Liver in his films – a comic relief for their audience. This in my view is the living testimony of our tolerance and forgiveness. 

We are also extremely tolerant of cricketers involved in match fixing, especially an ex-cricketer who was found guilty of fixing while captaining the Indian cricket team in the 90s. Yes, ‘leading from the front’ means different things to different people. What did we do after he was caught? Far from sending him to jail (apparently there was no anti-match fixing law back then), we conveniently banned him from playing cricket for life and turned him into a martyr. Then we elected him as Member of Parliament and now making a Bollywood biopic on his life. The tolerance bar goes up a few notches when you see Emran Hashmi of all people enacting him on screen and the fact that people will throng to theaters to watch him making a complete mockery of the leg-glance. Quite a show of tolerance I say in a country where cricket is supposedly a religion. 

Moving ahead, I would say we also have immense tolerance for a regressive Sharia law that deprives a 62-year-old divorced Muslim woman of basic maintenance that she’s entitled to from her ex-husband.  Can’t think of any other modern democracy that allows its citizens the flexibility of choosing between two sets of laws as per convenience.

While we encourage freedom of expression and creativity by allowing Sajid Khan school of cinema (for over-grown kids and other deranged people) to blossom but we stop the release of an Oscar-worthy, hard-hitting indie film (Black Friday) about India’s first terror attacks lest the perpetrators lose out on a fair trial. 

  

This idea of tolerance in India has a Dr Jackle/Mr. Hyde angle to it. One seamlessly blends into the other. It’s like watching the Insaaf trilogy below. You don’t know where one film ends and the other starts. You actually don't care as long as some 'Insaaf' is being down somewhere. They're all the same. And they're all damn good.

Let me now come to my second point – how this weird idea of tolerance has evolved over time? Sticking with movie analogy, I will pick up Mughal-e-Azam. Considered a jewel of Indian cinema, Mughal-e-Azam was first released in 1960. It showed Akbar, the Mughal emperor, married to Jodha Bai, a Rajput princess (a warrior Hindu class), only reiterating what was taught to us in our school history textbooks. Nothing different here. Fast forward to 2008, when its intellectually malnourished version ‘Jodha-Akbar’ hit the screens and ran straight into legal troubles. A certain community thought it misrepresented history. A history that was never challenged all these years was suddenly found offensive. Releasing around the same time, the little known ‘Billu Barber’ had to cut down the ‘barber’ from its title because a subsection of professional barbers was offended and sued the film producer. Their charge was that they found the word ‘barber’ insulting. They wanted to be called ‘hair-stylists’. 

Given our fast growing tendency to take offense to just about anything, I’m pretty sure that if Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron were to be released today, the epic Mahabharat scene in the climax would be sent to gallows. Frankly, it could be any random reason: someone decides on behalf of the whole country that you shouldn’t be laughing because cheer-haran is not a laughing matter; someone else would feel that it’s dangerous to transport Akbar & Salim in Pandav’s court and violate the space-time continuum. I am not even ruling out a ban to stop visually disturbing images of Draupadi’s chest hair. 

It is not to say that creative freedom of speech has suddenly been curtailed. I recently came to know that the legendary Kishore Kumar was banned from national radio in 1975 after he refused to sing at an Indira Gandhi rally. I can’t see any of the Khans being meted out such a treatment today. The point is that we are who we are, irrespective of the government. If you still don’t believe me, click here for the earth-shattering breaking news that will forever change the way you have marital discourse at home. 

Every society has varying levels of tolerance for different things. While you can speak your mind on religion and get away in the West, your remarks on issues such as racism and sexism would elicit far stronger rebuke. For the US and largely the West, these are issues with far greater relevance in today’s time and age and hence, it has rightly chosen a relatively low tolerance threshold to deal with them.

India needs to choose what is relevant for it in the 21st century and, more importantly, stick to it. If cow is a sacred animal, then stealing its fodder should be blasphemous too. If beef is sacrosanct then exporting it commercially should be sacrilegious too. Also, if cow is like your mother then why treat the poor buffalo in such a step-motherly fashion? It almost reeks of outright racism going all the way back to Rig Vedas. 

Finally, the irony of this whole issue can’t be captured better than seeing the tolerance debate being moderated by the guy who happens to be the most intolerant person in the living history of Primetime television.

Here’s leaving you with an intolerance box plot – an MBA’s attempt to capture the social problem with statistical tools.

Jai Hind! 

Tweet

Frankly Speaking With Rahul Gandhi (The Unseen Footage)

Just minutes before the cameras rolled, senior Congress leader, Jairam Ramesh is seen briefing Rahul Gandhi for one last time while Ajay Maken stands nearby, putting up a fake smile and extending a glass of water every time the Gandhi scion turns his head nonchalantly towards him and noticing neither his smile nor the glass. Arnab Goswami finally walks into the hall with his make up in place and the trademark samosa knot of his tie shining through. As the lights are adjusted and camera man starts reversing in 5-4-3-2-1, sister Priyanka gives one final thumps-up to her brother from behind the crew. The biggest political interview of independent India is now underway:

Arnab Goswami (AG): Rahul, thank you very much. It’s great to have you on Frankly Speaking. It’s been ten years as an MP for you… (Rahul looks up at the ceiling, while counting on his fingertips) and it’s your first interview? What took you so long?

Rahul Gandhi (RG): Well…I’ve always believed that patience is virtue, and virtue is grace, and grace was the name of the girl I fell in love with as a child. (pops out a dimpled smile)

AG: Mr. Gandhi, I have a request for you to be as specific as possible with your answers. Do I have your agreement on this?

RG: Well, of course, in a democracy everyone has the right to agree to disagree.

AG: Let me ask you a direct question then – are you scared to take on Narendra Modi one on one?

RG: If you try to understand what Rahul Gandhi is, you’ll know what Rahul Gandhi is scared of and what he’s not.

AG: May I ask you why are you addressing yourself in 3^rd person?

RG: Because it helps me take an objective view of myself.

AG: Well, taking an objective view, tell me how is Mr. Modi in 2002 any different from your late father in 1984?

RG: My father is different because he brought computers to India. And that is a fact nobody can deny. In my opinion, he was the Steve Jobs India never had!

AG: Why are you evading my question?

RG: Rahul Gandhi doesn’t evade questions. Who do you think brought the RTI? 

AG: Ok, if you don't wanna be specific, then you leave me no choice but ask you unsparingly direct questions. How do you justify your father’s comment, ‘When a big tree falls, earth shakes’?

RG: It's wrong to call it a comment. It is Newton's unstated fourth law of motion.

AG: Would you care to expound on that?

RG: You see Arnab, I didn’t compare my dad to Steve Jobs for nothing. Newton discovered that when earth shakes, apple falls. This discovery later inspired Jobs to found Apple Inc. which in turn inspired my dad to re-draw the analogy and express what Newton always wanted mankind to discover but never stated it explicitly. Very few people have the intellectual curiosity to acknowledge scientific occurrences the way my father used to. By saying ‘when a tree falls, earth shakes’, he has simply upheld the Fundamental Duty in Article 51 A of our constitution that seeks development of scientific thinking and spirit of inquiry.

AG: He said, ‘when a BIG tree falls…’ clearly he implied something more to it than just scientific thinking when he said ‘big’.

RG: That’s just an adjective. You are reading too much into it.

AG: Are you sure it's just an adjective? 

RG: I think so! Well, it could it be an adverb or pronoun as well...I don't know frankly.

AG: Mr. Gandhi, your education credentials have been a matter of great speculation. You say you’ve been to Cambridge. I was myself a visiting fellow at Cambridge for a short while. I distinctly remember the Economics Professor there had a notorious German shepherd which everyone on campus would make nasty jokes about. Mr. Gandhi, the nation wants to know today that if you really spent a year in Cambridge, whether you can recite one of those jokes or at least the name of that dog?

RG (takes a long pause with a dimpled smile): It was not a dog. It was actually a bitch. 

AG: What was her name?

RG: That's not the point. You need to look at the bigger picture...

AG: What was her name?

RG: Her name is not important. What is important is her empowerment. How safe she feels walking around the campus in Cambridge. 

AG: Mr. Gandhi, the nation demands to know her name..!! Please tell me the name if you know it.
RG: Senorita... I used to call her that.

AG (gets up and shouts): Mr. Maken, please stop whispering answers to Mr. Gandhi from behind his chair and come outside. You may not like to hear this but our cameras can clearly catch your words and even a part of your behind which is protruding from sides of the chair.
Coming back to the interview, Mr. Gandhi, tell me what is your stand on India’s policy on Kashmir vis-à-vis Pakistan?

RG: Well, the Congress party has a very clear and well-defined policy on Kashmir. I believe that when you choose Pervez Rasool for the Indian cricket team and then make him sit on the bench for the whole series, you are playing with fire.

AG: What’s that got to do with Kashmir?

RG: Everything! To stake our claim, we need to play Rasool before Pakistan plays him in its eleven.

AG: Interesting… Cricket diplomacy?

RG (looks at the camera with dimpled smile):  No, I call it inclusive diplomacy. It’s all about empowering the youth, opening the system and increasing the LPG cylinders from 9 to 12.

AG: And that’s your Kashmir policy?

RG: Absolutely.

AG: Including the LPG cylinders bit?

RG: Absolutely.

AG: You have completed ten years in politics, Mr. Gandhi. What do you think is your biggest achievement so far?

RG (Long pause with a dimpled smile)

AG: Mr. Gandhi?

RG: Yes?

AG:  If you were to pick your biggest achievement so far, would it be –  (a) 2009 UPA victory, (b) your first parliamentary speech or (c) the famous tearing down of the ordinance?

RG: Between these three options, it has to be the RTI.

AG: But I didn’t even say RT…

RG: You see, if Rahul Gandhi’s father was Steve Jobs, Rahul Gandhi is the Larry Page. My father brought us computers, I am bringing search results to the common man. We are creating an ecosystem here.

AG: So this is the ‘system’ you’ve been speaking so frequently about?

RG: Absolutely

AG: But Mr. Gandhi on one hand you talk so emphatically about the ‘system’, on the other hand, your critics accuse you of diminishing the stature of the Prime Minister’s Office by ridiculing his cabinet decision in public. They say you’ve downgraded and lowered the position of PMO.

RG: I don’t think so. In fact, I’m the one who has always advocated that the PMO be uplifted from the South Block to the North Block. So the accusation of lowering the PMO is laughable.

AG: Mr. Gandhi, with this we come to the last leg of your interview, and it's called the rapid fire round. So brace yourself for these quickies.

RG (Big smile): Wow! Just like that Karan Johar show! Do I get a coffee hamper too? 

AG: Sorry, you need at least two people to contest for the hamper. You're solo today.

RG: Duh... Anyways, go ahead..shoot! 

AG: Do you think Ashok Chavan and Akshok Kumar are the same guys?

RG: Can't say for sure...but an RTI inquiry can tell you that.

AG: And what about Pervez Rasool and Rasool Pookutty? 

RG: Do I need to say it again? Do your RTI

AG: Do you yourself know how information is sought through RTI and how the whole process works?

RG: Again, you can use the RTI to find out how the RTI works.

AG: What if RTI were actually a private start-up founded by you? Given its popularity, do you think it could have been a bigger IPO success than even Facebook and Twitter?

RG: Now that's a tricky one! I think I am gonna personally put this query to RTI this time. Makenji, can you start working on the paper work as soon as the interview is over? Thanks. 

Mr. Gandhi looks at the camera for a split second and smiles.

AG: You know Mr. Gandhi, I have met some funny guys in my life but you’ve been quite a revelation today. I’m a very serious journalist and have tried my best to draw you back to specifics by asking straight, direct questions. And I must say that you did exceedingly well in taking them on. It has been a long interview and I wont be surprised if your throat has dried up. Would you like some water?   

RG: I want a Pepsi! 

(The History of Nokia) - 2.0

"Pchchch...if only they'd thought about it 15 years ago, things could have been so remarkably different..." - Random thought.
Still, better late than never. Link

Fire in Babylon - An Education

Somewhere in the middle of Fire in Babylon, Viv Richards, batting without a head gear tries to hook a vicious bouncer but the ball comes too fast on him and hits him on his face. The Amarnaths and the Vengsarkars of this world would have been down after a pounding like that but the King is standing tall, undeterred and unmoved. Without showing a hint of pain or even a shrug of his head, he stares back at the bowler as if asking him, ‘Is that all you got?’. Bowler turns back to his run up as if to convey, 'Hold on, there's more coming'. He comes in steaming and again pitches in short. Richards repeats the same shot, this time sending it sailing over fine leg for a six, which should ideally have been an eight.
The crowd cheers in awe. You feel the same way. In the words of Viv Richards, "It is the history that you never forget."

Back in 1998, during one of my school summer vocations, I remember how eagerly I was awaiting the West Indies tour of South Africa to commence. The 5-Test match series was billed as the most keenly anticipated cricket series in a long-long time, especially with the whole socio-cultural African backdrop coming into play. But the series turned out to be a damp squib as the Windies were literally whitewashed 5-0 by the Proteas and barely managed to avoid the double ignominy in the subsequent ODIs where they were thrashed 1-6. I distinctly remember reading a Viv Richards interview in the aftermath of the disastrous African safari, where he was asked how he thought his own West Indies team from the mid-80s would have fared against the all-conquering South African team of Hansie Cronje. Richards replied with a child-like nostalgic excitement, "It would have been a great series...Oh man...I would have loved it. With our fast bowlers having a go at their batting, our batsmen taking on their bowlers...it would have been some contest." Having read about the long lasting West Indian dominance for years, I could understand back then what he meant when he compared the two sides but didn't quite realize the essence of it. After seeing Steven Riley's Documentary feature Fire in Babylon, I totally get it. And with my little found insight into the West Indian heydays, I am not sure if Cronje's side of 1998, for all its clinical brilliance and methodical efficiency, would've been able to avoid a similar 'Blackwash' against the West Indian side, that is shown in full glory, sweat and blood in the motion picture.

Fire in Babylon shows the causes and effects of the unbelievable rise of West Indian cricket and how it played a role in overcoming years of subjugation and racial abuse at the hands of their colonial masters. It revisits that era of cricket history and underlines its political implications in the way you have never seen or felt before. The rise of West Indies was seen as the rise of Black Power that unleashed a battery of demigods who'd strike down upon the forces of white prejudice with "great vengeance and furious anger".

Foremost among them is the towering figure of Vivian Richards – who looks as rocking in his interview excerpts as he does in the adrenaline pumping vintage footage. One always knew that the man is a legend, murderer of fast bowling and stuff like that. What FIB does is to give color, perspective and story to his larger than life persona. When you see the role he played in fostering racial, national and regional pride in West Indians each time he walked in to bat, each time he saw eye-to-eye with the intimidating white bowlers before he smacked them into oblivion, each time he took a political stand (against the WI Board for equal wages as white players or refusing a blank cheque offer to play for the rebel WI squad in S.Africa during Apartheid). He was the protagonist of the Black Power that was crusading towards unprecedented cricketing heights. He made his people believe that something as first-rate, undisputed and unchallenged as their brand of cricket could emerge from a group of supposedly 3rd world countries. In a subliminal way, you will also realise why Neena Gupta or any other actress who acknowledged his courage and manliness would give her right arm or left breast or both for having a child out of wedlock with the man like him and cherish that forever. If somebody told you that for an average West Indian he was no less a figure than the great Muhammed Ali or Pele, you would gladly believe so.

Don't Funk With My Heart

That’s not all. With Holding, Roberts, Marshall, Garner, Greenidge, Haynes, each reliving his glory years, FIB is a treasure trove of cricket memorabilia. Though you do wish to have someone like an Imran Khan or a Gavaskar to turn up on screen and speak of those times from a neutral perspective, but then it might have diluted the message from where it was coming.

You do, however, stumble upon some archive material which is as riveting and engaging as anything you have possibly come across. Like, you have no idea how fast Jeff Thompson really was until you see him throw one thunderbolt after another on the hapless West Indian batsmen on that wretched '76 tour. You wonder if Shoaib Akhtar would even come close to him in sheer pace. You also wonder how mentally strong Clive Lloyd's side really was to be able to come back from that position of mental and physical torture and then rule the game for the next 20 years. You feel the adrenaline rush when Michael Holding sends Tony Greig's stumps cartwheeling and the sinking realisation from the English side about the ill fated 'grovel' comment. You wonder how the West Indies today have traveled full circle and come back to where it started from in the 60s - Calypso Cricketers - those who can entertain but can't win. And finally, you wonder whether Indian hockey too needs a Fire in Babylon to stir up the dying spirits.

Coalgate: Let Us C+++

If Kaala Patthar (1979) were to made today, the heartless tyrant Prem Chopra would pick himself to be the Coal Minister. Shashi Kapoor, who plays the considerate mining engineer in the movie, would don the role of the honest, able and competent Coal Secretary who foresees the windfall gains in making by private companies and presses the right buttons, only to be shunted by his bosses. Amitabh Bachchan, the savior of the poor miners (the common man in this case) will play the daredevil CAG and take on the corrupt system single handedly. And finally, Shatrughan Sinha’s Mangal – the convict with an attitude problem – would find himself in the shoes of BJP, the principal opposition that itself has a less than virtuous past (as far as illegal coal mining and reported liaison with certain Reddy brothers go) and now finds it too convenient to shout ‘Khamosh’ to the government and walk out of the Parliament without a debate.

But unlike the linear narrative of Kaala Patthar, it is interesting to see how the ball was hit to and fro by Prem Chopra and Co. (PMO and the coal ministry here) in this ingenious game of procrastination that lasted for over 8 years, starting in 2004, while coal blocks were being allotted to private companies cherry picked by the government. The moment CAG report came out, BJP went all hammer and tongs over it, calling for nothing short of the Prime Minister's head.

Congress: "When there's no coal production, where's the loss?"
BJP: "You used the same logic in 2G and the subsequent auctions proved you wrong."
Cong: "We were only carrying forward a policy that was prevalent in NDA govt."
BJP: "The demand for coal had risen drastically since you came to power. It was your govt which introduced the competitive bidding process and then cleverly buried it under the bureaucratic process to grant allocations to hand picked companies."
Cong: "The CAG is violating his authority by questioning govt. policy."
BJP: “He's rightly questioning the inexplicable delay of 8 years in allocation of coal blocks."
Cong:  "It was your own state govt. which objected to the idea of competitive bidding. Hence, the delay."
BJP: "It is Centre’s prerogative to allocate national resource."
Cong: "The State representative was still part of the decision committee."
BJP: "Centre still remains supreme. States are mere recommenders. Centre can’t pass the buck."
Cong: "Why don't you debate it in the Parliament?"
BJP: "Debating over this issue is a waste of time. We dont want any JPC or PAC....we only want the resignation of the Prime Minister. The way Raja went, he has to go too. "
Cong: "You don't want to debate because you run the risk of being exposed."
BJP: "#$@!%!#$^!*..."

The spell is cast; arguments and counter-arguments are flowing from both sides with equal vitriol and worse still, conspiracy theories (involving the CAG) have started doing the rounds. The BJP has decided to shun the Parliament and go straight for the PM's head. Though they know that they are on a quixotic mission but it is still far effective than a detailed Parliamentary debate, as the latter would dilute their case. BJP looks at Coalgate and sees Bofors - their ticket to early elections and possible claim to power. One wants to strike the iron when it is hot, except iron is replaced by coal this time.

Scrutiny of CAG's Coalgate report notwithstanding, Vinod Rai's comparison with T. N. Chaturvedi, who was the CAG during Bofors (1984-90) and who eventually joined the BJP, is too premature and unfair. One has to see which way the current Harvard grad CAG would go after his retirement, which is due in 2013, before we judge him. Having said that, the CAG report is no gospel truth. Eminent economist Surjit Bhalla's double barrel attack on CAG's credibility [Article1, Article2 ] leaves crater sized loopholes in the report of country's premium auditory firm.

But the report to me is not about the 1.87 lakh Cr or 1.76 lakh Cr or even 29,000 Cr. It is about highlighting the callous use of power with no accountability. It is about putting brakes to system that is rotting at an exponential rate. It's not about the numbers. It never was. In fact, the credibility of the government is so low that people have unquestioningly fallen for the staggering figure of 1.87 L Cr loss without batting an eyelid. When government resides to crony capitalism and opposition connives with it under the facade of political conflict, it is for the constitutional bodies to encroach their boundaries and rise to the occasion. Chief Election Commissioner (CEC) used to be a spineless Pomeranian which was known for standing as a silent spectator amidst the worst election riggings, until T. N. Seshan turned it into a barking and biting Rottweiler. The judiciary also has to invade the space of legislature, every time constitutional eroding reservation laws are amended in the Parliament. The CAG, similarly, has to step over these porous boundaries when need be and restore credibility and confidence in the system.

Right questions need to be asked:
Irrespective of how flawed or accurate CAG's loss theory is, there are three things that need explaining, and quite detailed at that:
Firstly, the PMO came out rejecting the competitive bidding option in its note on 11th Sept 2004, citing the disadvantages of bidding. Reasons cited by the govt. for calling it disadvantageous should be explained in detail.

Secondly, throughout these 8 years, private companies selected by the Screening Committee continued to get coal blocks allocated to them (57 to be precise). Some of the companies chosen didn't even have any core competency in coal extraction. So on what basis were these allocations made?

Thirdly, and probably the most important of all, is the strange case of Comptroller and Auditor General that nobody seems to be taking up. The CAG is a constitutional body (meaning it can't be removed on the whims and fancies of politicians) which was set up specifically to curtail corruption. India is probably the only country where we have a body called CAG, whose 'C' is silent. A Comptroller & Auditor General Amendment Act in 1976 clipped the controlling powers of CAG, rendering it as a mere post-scam auditor. The crux of the problem is the absence of any funds issuing authority, a job CAG was originally meant to do. Why isn't nobody talking about this glaring loophole that needs amore immediate amendment than anything else. What is the Lok Sabha waiting for? Another scam that finally breaches the coveted 200 K Crore mark - the '3 Idiots' of all scams? If we really want to put a lid on corruption in this country, it is time we hand over powers back to B.R.Ambedkar's "most important Officer" under the Constitution of India.

As for BJP's illusionary plans of bringing down the govt. by staging walk outs, if at all it has to continue doing so, it should at least do so with some style by letting its style icon Shatrughan Sinha tweak his famous lines from Kaala Patthar and stump the govt with -
"Exchequer ka fund koi lemon soda nahi, jise Congress jaise onge-ponge apni pyaas bujhaate phiren!"

GoW-2 Review: There Will Be Blood (contains spoilers)

"Humein laga Sanjeev Kumar ke ghar Amitabh Bachchan paida hua hai. Lekin ab pata chala hum to Shashi Kapoor the!" - Faisal Khan

No matter what time machine you use and what time zone you set for yourself to land at the theatre, you’ll inevitably find Sardar Khan (Bajpai) dead. That in spite of the soulful rendering of 'Jiya Tu Hazaar Saala' at the fag end of first part, giving a glimmer of hope that may be, just maybe Sardar, much like Vijay Chavan in Agneepath [video link], would survive the million-bullets-busted-in-the-car assault at the patrol pump. That is not to be. Having said that, every effort you make to be on time is still worth it (especially those who get stuck in Baba Ramdev inflicted mayhem in Delhi) because watching the initial reels of GoW-2 unfold is akin to catching the first episode of a highly awaited new season of a popular TV series. It starts with a bang and puts you right in the thick of things without unnecessary reminiscing.

The vendetta tale transcends into the third generation and with every prominent killing that takes place henceforth, you’re witnessed to a new brass-band laden death song from Yashpal Sharma, who reprises his role of the official item boy of Wasseypur. You are not quite sure whether to laugh or feel sorry for the grief stricken widows every time he lunges into the mic and throws out a Shabbir Kumar/Mohd Aziz chartbuster from 80's. But you do realise that a bloody grand Corleone-like payback is on the cards as Nawazuddin Siddiqui’s ‘Phaijal’ Khan finally takes the patriarchal baton in his hands. And it is this anticipation that turns to movie’s undoing as it loses steam after the lightening start and begins to relay the plot for another two hours of politicking one-upmanship with battery of fringe players and extra characters - Perpendicular, Tangent, Diameter, Vertex, Rhombus, Parallelogram, et al - popping out every now and then.

Definitely, Definite

It is Faisal Khan’s bastard brother, Definite (played brilliantly by film’s co-author Zeishan Quadri) that brings the much needed punch back into the film with his portrayal of power hungry, unpredictable, fearless, Salman Khan obsessed, wannabe Don. The Chhi-chha ledar chase sequence, where Definite goes to bump off Shamshad Alam, only to run away to save his own ass, is one of the high points of the film. 

Nawazuddin, as expected, gives a powerhouse performance, but still falls short of emulating Manoj Bajpai’s larger-than-life aura of the first part. Piyush Mishra and Jameel Khan, who were able sidekicks to Bajpai in GoW-1, are reduced to mere mannequins here. May be it was a sign of new generation taking over both the reins and the guns of Wasseypur. The action too evolves from the rugged knife-stabbing and country-made revolver shootouts in the seminal part to a more polished Kalashnikov inflicted bloodshed here. 

One might see GoW I & II as two different films and they are, in all fairness, different in story build up, narrative pace and their leads. But it's how the two films compliment each other that truly makes Gangs of Wasseypur, as a whole, a complete epic. Where the first part successfully created the perfect milieu for the riveting revenge saga to unfold, GoW-2 (for all its shortcomings) provides the most iconoclastic, befitting climax in the karmic killing of Ramadhir Singh. The orgy of endless bullets pumping into his blood laden pulp of fat dead meat in the backdrop of electronic ‘Keh ke Lunga’ is the closest Bollywood has ever got to Quentin Tarantino. That scene alone is worth your price of admission and the cost of buying the 2-DVD set when it's out.

My rating: 3.5 for the sequel and 4 for the franchise.

Movie Review - The Dark Knight Rises

TDKR poster outside DT Cinemas a day before the release.

There are movies that go on to completely redefine a genre (Batman Begins). Then there are movies that take that genre to an unprecedented and almost insurmountable level of perfection (The Dark Knight). And then there are movies that make the downward trek from peak oil stage as enthralling and engaging as the buildup once was. The Dark Knight Rises (popularly acronymed as TDKR) is probably as fitting a finale to one of the best trilogies ever made as one would have wished. And unlike The Lord of The Rings, which was based on a book and hence couldn’t possibly go wrong with the story (unless it’s Rumi Jaffery who’s writing it), TDKR had to repaint a canvas of new characters and plot line and still manages to retain the DNA, the flow and the pedigree of the epic Batman franchise.

TDKR is no The Dark Knight. But it is the best follow-up film you could’ve expected especially after amassing gargantuan expectations protruding from its cult prequel in 2008. In fact, TDKR is a movie that doesn’t actually require a preamble. It is better off without one, to be honest. You’ll love it for what it is and you’d hate it for what it is not.

The film’s biggest achievement, apart from having a stupendous climax and that hell of a rabble-rouser scene on the street, is the fact that no character in this film is just there to fill the boots. Every guy is in with a reason and stands decisively close to giving the narrative an unexpected turn in any direction you could possibly fathom. Michael Caine, as the incessant butler Alfred, probably outdid himself in the initial scenes with Bale. He sets the tone for a possible Batman decadence that makes you secretly root for the aging hero whose invincibility, you somehow know, is gone. Morgon Freeman is delightfully charming with his child-like desire to still impress Wayne with his toys, even after what happened at the end of the last movie. Joseph Gordon-Levitt, whom I call the Shahid Kapoor of Hollywood every time I can’t recall his name and then I regret doing so, because he looks and acts way better than that schmuck, is as impressive here as he was in Inception. His presence in the film is most reassuring and it culminates appropriately into the figure you inadvertently see in him right from the start.

But it’s Anna Hathaway who takes the cake with the cherry on top. If Heath Ledger had packed off Jack Nicholson’s Joker into a permanent oblivion, Hathaway makes Michelle Pfeiffer’s Cat Woman take a long walk to kindergarten. She not only gets the best lines in the film but delivers the much needed fillip every time the momentum threatens to slow down. Tom Hardy as Bane is not half as menacing as the Joker (and he didn’t have to) but is more physically intimidating than any other Batman villain has ever been. The Bane-Batman fist fight on the street is one hell of an adrenaline pumping sequence that makes you want go back and hit the big bad bully in high school in his face. And a word for Daniel Sunjata – he might just be the last known onscreen cop to say, “I’ll take it up from here” and then get his ass kicked soon after.

TDKR has the trademark Nolan stamp all over it – great character development, riveting story build-up, witty & smart lines and all that intertwined by a goose bumpy music by Hans Zimmer, who’s turning out to be the new age Morricone. Gotham’s Reckoning, that has a Judgement Day-like blood stirring quality, along with Mind If I Cut In (Cat Woman’s theme) are two standout compositions worth Academy nominations.

TDKR is not a movie to be critical about. Because it passes that test by miles. It’s a celebration of a successful culmination of the best blockbuster trilogy…possibly ever. Go watch it. It is the Godfather-II of our times.

What Rajesh Khanna Means to Bollywood?

They found the God particle in the corridors of Hadron Collider in 2012. But we had found the almighty himself in the corridors of silverscreen back in the 70s. His name was Rajesh Khanna alias ‘Kaka’ and they said that if anything came close to being God, it was him for his stardom was so big, it was almost immeasurable.
But let me just quantify things for the sake of better understanding. Think of Bachchan’s best years (1975-84), and add to that the combined stardom of the three Khans throughout 90s and 2000s. Now add Hrithik’s Kaho Na Pyar Hai hysteria and Kumar Gaurav’s forgotten but equally mad Love Story days. Whatever unseen volume of salivating fan clout you can fathom, multiply that with 2 raised to power 15. Yes… 32768 multiplied by that imaginary load of maniacal fad is what Rajesh Khanna at his freaking peak was like. He was, definitely, God. I say this because Khanna delivered an unbelievable streak of 15 consecutive solo superhits. That’s right. 15. Consecutive. Solo. Super hits. That’s an unbroken record of gargantuan proportions. 

The legendary star passed away on 18th July, two days before The Dark Knight rose. To capture the true essence of Kaka’s reign at the top, and facets of his onscreen avatars that go beyond the veneer of a superstar, I have made an effort to pick and choose ten films from his reign at the top. These may not be his best or most memorable films, but they play a visceral part in making him what he was, understanding his unprecedented phenomenon and analyzing how future generations will both judge and savor him.

Aradhana (1969)

If you watch Aradhana now, chances are you’ll not be exactly floored by its young, cougar-desired, fair looking, and genuinely handsome leading man. But back then, the moment the mustachioed Rajesh Khanna (son of the deceased, similar looking but clean shaven dad) in a pilot uniform, gets off the plane in the second half and waves at the screen, he had inadvertently entered the hearts and minds of millions. And that was it. Rajesh Khanna was an accredited superstar by the end of film.
People give a lot of credit to Kishore Kumar’s songs and how his peppy voice provided an impeccable match to Khanna’s lover boy persona. But they forget that while Rajesh Khanna’s success owes a lot to Kishore’s songs, it was Aradhana that resurrected the latter’s singing career and catapulted him to the top of background singing scene. Mohd. Rafi could never recover the numero uno position after Aradhana. He was always the second fiddle from then on.

Ittefaq (1969)

In an era where songs ruled the roost in Bollywood, Yash Chopra came out with this taut, song-less Hitchcockian murder mystery, set inside a house and taking place all in one night. Ittefaq remains one of the most defining films of its genre but is unfortunately forgotten under the overpowering romantic undertone of Khanna’s other films. Coming right after Aradhana’s stupendous success, Ittefaq’s Dilip Roy was the first such instance where the actor in Rajesh Khanna was tested against the star he’d unknowingly become. The fact that the actor triumphed against the star was no ittefaq.

Khamoshi (1970)

Probably an Eastman color deprived, black&white film was the only way to effectively deglamorize Khanna’s ever increasing colorful appeal. And it helped in making the film as a sum bigger than the parts – Khanna’s transition from a mentally challenged patient to a cured but love stricken man being the most prominent one. With Kishore Kumar, once again exemplifying the pain of Kaka’s character with his soulful tearjerker Woh Sham Kuch Ajeeb Thi, it was only a matter of time before he would become his full-time default playback. 

Anand (1971)

Unarguably the magnum opus of Kaka’s career, Anand is almost synonymous with his name for more than one reason. Here was a superstar at the top of his game, an unprecedented phenomenon who could make million hearts stop with an innocuous roll of his eyes, a gentle head jerk and that “here’s looking at you kid” smile. But Hrishikesh Mukherjee chose to rid him of all that razzmatazz, draped him up in a simple Bengali kurta-pyjama and then didn’t even bother to throw in a leading lady to romance the biggest romantic hero of the time. And what you get is sheer magic and effortless charm of an actor who bowls you over with his unmatched energy and onscreen chutzpah. He is clearly at the top of his game. You cannot miss the confidence with which Khanna towers over a diffident, lanky Bachchan, who looks more like an intern training under the rockstar salesman of a firm. Nobody in his right mind would have thought that this very intern would eventually become the CEO of that firm one day.

That said, Rajesh Khanna sparkles in Anand like he has never before or ever since his meteoric rise and an equally cruel land sliding fall from grace.

Amar Prem (1972)

Rajesh Khanna never got to say tectonic shifting lines like “Khush to bahut hoge tum”, “Don ko pakadna…” or “Rishtey mein to hum tumhare baap hote hein”. He never even made a psychotic stammer of “Kkkkkkkkkiiiran” or Sunnydeolised cops into “Balwant Rai ke kutton”. The only line he ever had was – “Pushpa, I hate tears” said in his own tranquilizing style. If there’s one reason why Amar Prem is still amar, it is this. Based on a Bengali novel, Shakti Samanta’s film is probably the first commercial hindi movie that explores the endearing tale of platonic love between a man and a woman of the same age and probably suffering from the same woes. Not exactly a masterclass direction or screenplay to boast, the film has Kaka and his songs to the rescue once again. The way Anand Babu infuses exuberance into Pushpa’s dry life and film’s even drier narrative only underlines the effect and power of Kaka’s onscreen charisma at his peak.

Bawarchi (1972)

Bawarchi was probably made by Hrishi Da to satiate the growing urge of people who couldn’t get enough of Kaka’s self-less, joie de vivre act in Anand. Bawarchi was basically Anand repackaged with Lymphosarcoma of intestine replacing the Lymphosarcoma of middle-class joint families. 

Kaka, not surprisingly, mesmerizes you with his performance, where yet again he was cast without a love interest and yet again he showed that it doesn’t matter.

Avishkaar (1974)

A deglamorized Rajesh Khanna cast as an over-worked urban husband struggling with marital discourse, Avishkaar was a daring attempt by the talented Basu Chatterjee at a time when 70s were starting to get really blaxploited – heroes’ hairdo was getting fuller, shirt collars were getting Elvisly longer and trouser bottoms were getting belled. Khanna delivered arguably his best performance in a role that required him once again to rid himself of all his superstar mannerisms and show restraint and subtleness in just the right doses. He won his last Filmfare Best Actor award for this film and deservedly so because he stuck his neck out and tried to do something endearingly different while he was still at the top, something the other stalwarts after him fell glaringly short of.

Roti (1974)

Roti was the closest Rajesh Khanna could come to playing Amitabh Bachchan and vice versa. He is Mangal Singh, your typical larger than life hero who does everything expected of him in the 3-hours running time from breaking jail on the day of his hanging, to masquerading into a village crusader who takes care of an elderly blind couple like their own son, to romancing the notorious village belle. Roti was also a bowdlerized version of Manmohan Desai's later films with Bachchan, with whom he found nirvana and churned out trash after trash after trash under the euphemism of formula films. 

Namak Haraam (1973)

  

Namak Haraam is seen as ‘passing the baton’ movie by connoisseurs, primarily because it acts as an inflection point for two contemporaries stars – one on his way up and the other on his way down (at least in the hindsight). Unlike Anand, the Khanna-Bachchan pairing here was more even-steven. You definitely see a more confident, polished and suave Amitabh Bachchan, fresh from the success of Zanjeer, taking on the King of good times at his effervescent best. The fact that Bachchan’s character had shades of grey in it did allow him to take home more than his share of accolades from the audience. But no matter how imposing Bachchan’s anger was, Namak Haraam essentially remains a Rajesh Khanna film from its core.  

It was not just a clash between two icons of Indian cinema, but also a clash of two economic models – Capitalism vs. Socialism. The classic scene where Khanna compares a peg of Black Label with a factory worker’s one month salary would have got it a standing ovation from Karl Marx himself.

Mere Jeevan Saathi (1972)

If there’s any film that comes closest to being called a quasi-documentary on Kaka’s short but unchallenged rule at the box-office, it is Mere Jeevan Saathi. Playing a popular artist, who has his ways with the women, Rajesh Khanna is in his element here. You can literally sense the actual hysteria and fan frenzy he must have commanded those days by just sitting back letting the film’s first half role. Kaka is just playing himself with women drooling right, left and center, till the tragedy strikes and he loses everything. MJS gives you one of Khanna's best film soundtracks, throwing one chartbuster after another – O Mere Dil Ke Chain, Chala Jaata Hoon, Diwana Lekar Aaya Hai, Kitne Sapne Kitne Arman, …all in the same film!!

It's only fair to say that Rajesh Khanna was like a bolt of lightning that struck Bollywood and changed it forever – for the better or worse, is debatable. He definitely changed the film-centric nature of Bollywood to that of star-centric, exacerbated further by Bachchan’s One-Man-Industry era. Many superstars came and went after him, some even played a longer and more defining innings while others managed to make a mark internationally but for that short period of four years (1969-73), the rage, fad and frenzy of Rajesh Khanna remain unmatched. And as they say, the light that burns the brightest burns for the shortest period of time. 

RIP Rajesh Khanna, the original superstar.

Movie Review - Gangs of Wasseypur (Pt- I)

“Yeh Wasseypur hai… yahaan kabootar bhi ek pankh se udta hai aur doosare se apni izzat bachata hai!” - Sultan Qureshi.

Gangs of Wasseypur, the 9th film directed by maverick Anurag Kashyap, comes in the rarest of rare categories of films where the line between cinematic luxuries and real world exploits blurs into oblivion. With its slow and steady pace that sporadically soars and roars, Gangs isn’t really a film in the real sense of the word. It is an experience that absorbs you and etches a footprint of memorable characters that stay with you long after the end credits start to roll.

GoW is indeed the first genuine dynasty film in Bollywood, where the story spans over decades and life times of three generations of a family (no, Saudagar doesn’t qualify here). Like Godfather, it also amalgamates the family and crime genre of films, without being restricted to one or the other. It also breaks molds by being the first non-star film coming out of the Bollywood stable to clock a budget of 26 Cr (18Cr in filming, rest in marketing). GoW has many firsts going for it and it might be the beginning of a new dawn for Hindi cinema. Just might.

The revenge saga, which is filmed in 2 parts, starts with engaging opening credits that are endearingly complemented by Piyush Mishra’s rustic voiceover and hand-drawn illustrations of scenes from the film itself. The first half-hour may not be the most explosive start to a vendetta epic like this, but it sets up the character of Shahid Khan (Jaideep Ahlawat), who looks and acts like Manoj Bajpai’s father, to perfection. Looking at the silent brooding anger of Ahlawat, you just subliminally know that somebody is going to get hurt real bad once his son grows into the bald and dreaded Manoj Bajpai. And that he does with oodles of confidence, chutzpah and uncontrollable libido.

Notably, Kashyap drenches his narrative with the right dose of humor – mostly subtle, instinctive and character driven. Language is earthy and real, with lots of Bose.D.K’s flying around every now and then. But you’ll be amazed to see yourself laugh at the most nasty jokes and crudest display of machismo on Indian screen. Bajpai’s flirtatious laundry stint with Reema Sen (this is the most desirable she’s ever looked); Tigmanshu Dhulia’s (Director of Paan Singh Tomar) cruel, cuss-worded berating of his son in-front of his wife; butcher Ehsan changing gears from nonchalant walk to a hurried sprint the moment he realizes that Sultan Qureshi, walking behind him, has taken out his slippers to whack him; the train sequence where Nawazuddin (Bajpai’s son) gets an inferiority complex from a co-passenger who looks more ‘Amitabh Bachchan’ than him; Yashpal Sharma’s delightful cameo as a wedding singer; Bajpai using a Mithun da inspired local dancer to ridicule the village political honcho – the laughs keep coming amidst sudden doses of raw violence, bodies shredding to pieces and bullets puncturing human chests when you least expect them to. 

Talking of acting, Gangs boasts of the most amazing display of fine, nuanced acting by an ensemble cast where every actor looks like playing the role of his/her lifetime. No other film, with exception of Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro and may be Sholay, has been able to achieve an acting quotient so high from its cast. Manoj Bajpai as Sardar Khan, is in top form – both above and below his waist. He has clearly enjoyed every second of his screen time and his towering performance is almost like a thankyou note to the makers of GoW for giving him a second shot at stardom post Satya. Tigmanshu Dhulia as Ramadhir Singh impresses in his acting debut, giving a brilliantly underplayed performance of a scheming politician who feels equally vulnerable to Sardar Khan's ambitious rise in the power circles. Richa Chaddha (of Oye Lucky’s Dolly fame) is unforgivingly volatile as Bajpai’s wife. And, Nawazuddin in a Michael Corleonesque role, is like a time bomb that is just waiting to explode in part-2.

Songs, mixed and blended in the Bihari folk by Sneha Khanwalkar, are too good, too many. Though using all of them as underscore for a particular sequence didn’t help adding any real fillip to the narrative, some like I am a Hunter, Keh ke Loonga and Bihar ke Laala remain stand out gems that you’d want to hear back-to-back, endlessly. But it is the background score (sadly it doesn’t feature in the soundtrack listing) that really acts as a cohesive force behind various factions of GoW and comes back to haunt you every time it’s played.

Over indulgent in parts, explosive as a whole, hilarious in bits, and tacitly gory in shades, Gangs doesn’t deserve a uTorrent download. It’s a motion picture that requires big screen viewing for it to completely sink in and for you to completely absorb it – before you wanna revisit it again.

GoW is a landmark film, not because it is made out to be so. But because in years & decades to come, irrespective of its current box office numbers, Gangs of Wasseypur will be seen, revered and named in the top ten Hindi movies of all time by movie connoisseurs, critics and filmmakers alike.

Because like what Google’s Project Glass does to technology, this is the kind of cinema that takes film-making beyond what it has been to where the future might be.

We're half way there. Part-2 should complete the stride.

"Call-to-Action" Revisited

There are days when you get this epiphanic insight into something you thought you've known all along, as it happened this morning while getting off from the Metro station when I got swamped by a noisy group of rickshaw pullers. I usually don’t catch a rickshaw from that point and prefer walking to the crossing before taking the ‘luxury’ ride. And it’s the usual affair; I pay the guy 10/- bucks and he drops me at my office building. No questions asked, none answered. But today was different. Amongst that herd of rickshaw wallahs, my eyes somehow caught the attention of this lean, tall guy with an arrogant swagger (almost reminiscent of Salim-Javed’s Angry Young Man from the 70s), as he slowly made his way through the jostling crowd. But it is actually when he came close that I got to see him in his full glory – wearing a tight, faded brown T-shirt with the most amazing lines ever written on the chest of any Indian rickshaw puller. Going by how hard a rickshaw puller’s life is – not giving in but fighting and slogging it out in the Sun, day-in and day-out with no leaves, no annual bonuses and no job switches – the text on his t-shirt couldn’t have captured his struggle to survive another day any better. He obviously didn’t realize the literary genius of his t-shirt but he had, however unintentionally may be, ‘converted’ me into a sure shot first-time customer.
He asked for 15, five more than the usual tenner I have to offer. But let’s just say, the marketer in me was so overwhelmed by the impact of his T-shirt’s copy… the moment he said ‘Pandrah Rupay’, I was hearing 'How You Like Me Now?' playing loud and clear in my ears.  I knew I didn't want to bargain with this guy...not today. He had more than convinced me and I followed him to his rickshaw like a privileged foreign tourist would. He didn't take more than 5 mins to drop me at my office entrance. I thanked him for the ride and asked him if I could take his picture, to which he readily agreed. I didn’t ask his name; to me he could only have one name – Vijay!!
Below is Vijay’s ‘all-attitude, no bullshit’ pic.

Moral of the Story:
In marketing parlance you hear the term ‘Call-to-Action’ all the time. But what exactly it really is? They’ll tell you it’s the be-all and end-all element required right before the final nail on the sales coffin is about to strike. But then every Facebook ad, newsletter subscription, whitepaper download or webinar registration has to work around the same rules. So, who gets the gold?
It’s the mad dog who does! That’s right..!! The mad dog here is the one who stands out from the herd of stray dogs for its sheer madness. And you love him for it.
    

Tweet