I'm gonna slightly cheat here because it's unfair to name 5 of my favorite foods. C'mon how on earth do you expect me to name only FIVE? I live to eat. I wake up and plan my lunch and just before lunch, think about my evening chai by which time I crave for my dinner. So yeah, I cheated but only slightly. Instead of naming my favorite foods individually, here are some food "groups" that I lurveeee.Oh, and these are in no particular order.
Deserts - Desi, Chinese, Middle Eastern, American, I love 'em all! Halwa Puri - It's my favorite comfort food in the world. And no, contrary to belief, I am not from Meerut. Dim Sum - I grew up eating Dim Sum every Sunday. It's as good as home cooked food for me. Sandwiches - There is nothing like a good yummy sandwich with extra cheese, mayo, mustard and some peppercinis. Rasta Food - Hawker food is amazing no matter which part of the world you're in. That said, nothing beats rasta food in Bombay. Pani puris, sandwiches and a plate of pav bhaji. Ahhhhh, heaven!
Picking six out of millions of places I’d like to go was so damn tough. BUT I did it. In a way I’ve been lucky to have parents who love/loved to travel so we’ve been to some pretty awesome countries. That said, there are a few countries they managed to miss and of course, one in particular which I beyond love.
6) Spain – As a family we’ve been to Spain a few times but then Tomatino Festival baby!
5) Turkey – Something about the bazaars and gaalis of Istanbul makes it super exciting.
4) South Africa – Who doesn’t want to go to Sun City?
3) Australia – I love Koala Bears and Kangaroos!
2) Paris – Romance, Eiffel Tower and pastries…aur kya chahiye?
1) India – While I love Bombay, I still need to venture out and see the rest of my country.
Every year around this time, I find myself feeling rather emotional and nostalgic. It was in early 1994 that that my grandfather passed away. For everyone that knows me, you’ll know that I was pretty much my Nana’s laadli. To say that I was attached to him would be wrong; the bond I share with him is impossible to break even now years after demise. Growing up, I found myself in awe of my grandfather. They don’t make men like him anymore. His style, attitude, personality and infection smile, he was impossible to ignore.
Yesterday evening, my grandmother and I were chatting on the phone and of course, the conversation turned to marriage. In the smartest of ways, [pats self on back] I managed to divert the conversation to her courtship with my grandfather. Very few people know the complete story but in a nutshell, they knew each other as children and played together in a common angaan in Karachi. After the partition, my grandfather’s family moved to Bombay and my grandmother’s to Hong Kong. Many years later, they reunited in Hong Kong and through beautiful love letters and of course, with the blessings of their families, they married. I awed and gushed over their love story, but I wasn’t surprised that she was floored by him. He was just like that.
Being the first grandchild, it was only natural for me to be overly pampered. My grandfather however, couldn’t get enough of me. I was his favorite and I have no qualms boasting about it. This is probably one of the reasons I grew up calling him 'Daddy'. He was quite literally my second father. As a gift, I landed up inheriting the writing gene from him but he taught me lessons for life which till today I live by. In many ways, my mother says I’m like him. I love India like no other, feel the need to exercise to vote, believe that organization is the key to living and that no work should be done halfheartedly.
The last time I saw my grandfather, he took my siblings and I to the museum and the aquarium in Mumbai. At 12, it was hardly the most interesting thing to do. I remember yawning and experiencing boredom of epic proportions. Looking back now, I wish I had listened to every word my grandfather had told us and hugged him a million times that day. He passed away less than a year later from cancer. My mother tells us he asked for us every day.
My fondest memory with my grandfather was when he'd place me on his lap and we'd sing "Our Song".
“You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine,
You make me happy,
When skies are grey.
You never know dear,
How much I love you,
I love you very very very very very much!”
We modified the song to our liking but it was the moment after that I miss the most: the warmest hug in the world.
It’s been 18 years since he’s been gone and there isn’t a day where I don’t miss him. There isn’t a minute I wish I'd told him I loved him just one more time. Every morning when the sun comes shining through my windows into my room, I smile because it is then that feel my Daddy around me watching over me like my guardian angel.
It’s that time of the month again. No silly, not “that” time but the time where there are too many burning issues that are weighing on my mind and thus, I must put them down vis-à-vis a blog post. Oh word of the week, by the way, is ‘burn’. And I’ll tell you why. So apparently, this month is filled with XYZ Days. Yesterday happened to be Teddy Day. Please do not aw and gush on me. Please no. It’s simply absurd all these silly days. What purpose do they serve? None. And thus, if you are dating someone who is giving you a teddy bear and not teddy lingerie, you should burn the bear effective immediately. But it doesn’t stop there. Please check out the list of lame days that will occur this February. If you honor/celebrate more than two of these, I will judge you. Alright then, back to burning issues.
Yuvi Yuvi Yuvi
By now every single cricket fan/fanatic has already expressed their grief over Yuvraj Singh’s cancer news. I of course, am no different. Naturally, I am convinced he will bounce back and be his usual self. But as cricket buffs, we need him for more than one reason. Yes, he needs to get well soon and get back on the team, lord knows they need them and how. However, Yuvi brings with him a great amount of excitement. He’s funky, wicked and wild. He hits sixes, dates girls nonstop and of course, when you need him to, gives the spunkiest answers to dodge ablaze questions. And lastly, Yuvi should come back hit yet another six sixes and win us another World Cup. Just imagine, he helped Team India win with strains of cancer floating around in him. The guy is such a star.
Baby Falak
It’s such a sad sad sad society we live in. If you haven’t heard about little two-year-old Baby Falak, here’s the gist. Young 22-year-old Munni was sold to her husband when she was 16 to a man who eventually walked out on her leaving her with 3 children to fend for solo. She was promised a job if she moved to Delhi. Unknown to her, that line of work would be prostitution. When she refused, she was told to marry another man and to leave the children to a friend. Her oldest daughter was sent to live with a relative, her son is yet to be found and her baby, who has now been named Falak, moved around from family to family. Eventually, she fell into the hands of a young teenage girl who belonged to a sex worker group. She had run away with an older man who had abandoned the teen to see his family and wife in Mumbai. She was forced to take care of the baby alone and tortured the baby nonstop. The baby’s head was smashed against the wall, a hot iron was placed on her face and there were bites all over her. The teen bought in the baby to a local hospital asking for help when officials discovered something was just not right.
I don’t even know where to begin with this story. For starters, selling your child is a phenomenon I just cannot fathom. But we have no one but ourselves to blame for this entire ordeal. As a society, baby girls have always been frowned upon. And thus, the easy way out always seems to be to get rid of our girls whether it’s marrying them off earlier or in some cases sell them off even. We don’t look to see if the man is at all capable or trustworthy; as long as she’s out of our hair, who cares. This desperation in itself forces our daughters to deal with situations solo. In the case of Munni, leaving her children to marry for the second time seems like a raw deal to me. A man who wants to care for you, should do so irrespective. She may has well have gotten into prostitution then. But the real victim here is Baby Falak. Just thinking about the poor pain a voiceless two-year-old had to endure alone infuriates me. When will we finally wake up and realize this is not acceptable? When will we grow up and realize that a baby girl is just as precious as a boy? And when on earth will we start punishing such assholes for these heinous crimes? How many more baby girls will it take?
Sid Mallya
And very quickly, if you’ve been following the Ayesha Takia versus Siddhartha Mallya/Kingfisher Airlines fight on twitter, you’ll probably have learned that he is an ultimate douchebag. He has no manners, nor does he care about anything but himself clearly. I don’t care how rich you are and who the hell your father is, your company screwed up. Own up and figure it out already. After Ayesha’s sister’s boarding pass was shredded by some ground staff for whatever reason, he simply came out to ask who Ayesha was and also told her to “pipe down love.” I tell you where I’d like to put that pipe; up a hole where pipes shouldn’t go.
And with that, my burning issues come to a cooling halt. Well not really, but nothing a chilled beer can’t fix. Too bad beer isn’t my thing. Lassi se hi kaam chalalungi!
Every year we’re bombarded with films that everyone watches courtesy of big budgets, huge star casts and of course, item numbers. But a lot of the time, the best films of the year are ones that are low on budget, small in stars but deep in substance. And these are the movies you more than often ignore. Bad idea. I could sit here and tell you which biggies to watch, but I pass. You’ll figure that out for yourself. So instead, I’ll do just the opposite. While most of 2012’s films have tentative release dates, check out these smaller films you may want to miss but probably shouldn't.
London, Paris, New York What: Ali Zafar is back in 2012 in Anu Menon’s love story, London, Paris, New York. In hopes to bring back old school Bollywood romance, it follows the lives of two diverse people who fall in love in three cities over eight years.
Why: Three awesome cities, romance and one very cute Ali Zafar…need I say more?
Bittoo Boss What: Starring new kids Pulkit Samrat and Amita Pathak, Bittoo Boss is quite simply is about a man whose job is to record weddings.
Why: This could quite easily be the Band Baaja Baraat of the year. Add to that, this is the same production house that bought us the very cool bromance Pyaar Ka Punchnama last year. And and and, the film’s dialogues are apparently causing the censors nightmares!
Paan Singh Tomar What: Irrfan Khan and Mahi Gill bring to the screen, the true life story of a runner turned rebel. In order to escape poverty, Tomar, joins the Indian National Games and living an honest life, he becomes a “baaghi” who causes mayhem in the Chambal Valley.
Why: True life stories always tend to be inspirational and this one is about a man we know far too little about.
Maximum What: This underworld drama is about two cops who are at loggerheads courtesy of a dire situation that occurs in Mumbai. They find themselves looking for extreme power in Maximum City. Not only will the system be tested but so will their integrity.
Why: Check out the cast: Sonu Sood, Naseeruddin Shah, Neha Dhupia, Vinay Pathak, Arya Babbar. Expect powerhouse performances and an engaging plot.
Aiyaa What: When a Marathi gal, played by Rani Mukherji meets South boy, Prithviraj, love happens. And of course, at the same time, a culture clash too.
Why: Believe it or not, this rom-com is actually written by Anurag Kashyap.
Of course, you should catch the biggies too. But if you do get an afternoon free this year, you must must must catch one of the above. Enjoy!
If you remember a few months ago, I complained and ranted about how much I detested remakes and sequels. It just makes zero sense to me. Are our filmmakers incompetent of making original films? In a country of over one billion, are we incapable of stirring up innovative plots? But what does anyone care about what I say. A lot of the time, what filmmakers deem a “remake” is actually an adaptation. And that is exactly what Karan Johar’s Agneepath is. So now because it is a variation of the original, it would be totally unfair to make comparisons be it the performances or script. In all honesty, I was completely skeptical of Agneepath in 2012. How on earth anyone could want to recreate an epic cult film? More importantly, why?
This is why.
The film is not as different yet slightly altered from the original. Vijay Chauhan (Hrithik Roshan) is just another regular boy from Mandwa whose father, the village master, lives by rules of karma and dharma. However, when he is framed and hung to death by the local ravaan Kancha (Sanjay Dutt), Vijay finds himself devoid of any of his father’s teachings as he promises to take revenge. His family moves to Mumbai where he is taken under the wing of one Rauf Lala (Rishi Kapoor). Over time, he grows to become a man who is eager to get revenge but not through Lala; solo. He schemes to take down his godfather’s family and reign as he moves to the top only to kill Kancha. In between, he seeks solace in the arms of his childhood friend, Kaali (Priyanka Chopra) who supports, marries and loves him to death.
Agneepath in 2012 is the 1990 version, only refined. It has every component of a nineties film—revenge, love, action. It puts you in a modern time capsule for three hours as it correctly attacks every emotion which makes the average Indian viewer tear via the mother-son discord and love story.
As a film, Agneepath is fabulously executed and filmed. You are pulled into a world which is filled with love and hate, retribution and justice, chaos and peace. Every scene of the film is shot beautifully, be it the chawls and slums of Mumbai or the island of Mandwa. Karan Malhotra’s vision and implementation of the film and stars too, is impeccable. His version of Agneepath is original and yet pays great respect to the Amitabh version. But what comes across very clearly is how he has cleverly adapted his film to the current rage of over-the-top melodrama films with the dialogues and action sequences. Look beyond the superficial surface, and Agneepath is filled with great nuances too. The reference to the Ramayana comes across instantly as Mandwa is painted a dark hell, Mumbai is bright, filled with life and love followed by the good over evil track. Malhotra knows this well and is definitely an aficionado the masala genre.
Agneepath belongs to Hrithik Roshan. We often connote great acting with dialogues and drama. This couldn’t be further from the truth. As Vijay Dinanath Chauhan, Hrithik speaks perhaps all of three pages of the script. However, his acting comes through the flaring of his nostrils, his blood shot teared eyes, his intensity, his body language and yes, through his delivery of the character. Add to that how that he is still as hot as they get, and boom, he wins with Agneepath. There is no long hauled dialogue for him neither is his drunk scene one that will go down in history but you will walk out of the cinema calling Agneepath one of his best performances ever. There is also, no mimicking of Bachchan Senior. This is his interpretation of the character.
And then there is Rishi Kapoor who scores as Rauf Lala. He works the evil into the character so darn well. A phenomenal performance. Sanjay Dutt is flawless as Kancha. He’s ugly, dark, grey and dirty just as you would expect him to be. He takes the cake when it comes to dialogues in the film and works Kancha into a great villain. Om Puri is as usual awesome and deserves a mention because he is rarely appreciated. Priyanka Chopra is apt but hams slightly in her small role which in my opinion could have been played by any other small actress. However, marketing works well in Bollywood. By adding Chopra to the film, the star power of the film increases.
So where does the film falter? Tomato ketchup. The gore and blood flows from beginning to end which makes you wonder how much ketchup was used. While the film excels in the first half, it falls a tad bit in the second; at some points it seems hurried. The music is also a letdown. Yes, Chikni Chameli is fantabulous as well as the Ganesh number. The rest is average minus the background music which is haunting but loud. And then there is the length—it’s too freakin’ long. Too long. So much so that it’s slightly exhausting.
In the end, Agneepath is a good watch because of Roshan. He packs a punch and works it. In fact, you almost cannot imagine anyone else playing Chauhan in this version of the film. I have to hand it to KJo, whom I normally hate on, with this one, he's redeemed himself. But only slightly. Agneepath is the old stuff in new fancy glossy packaging. This, guys and dolls, is exactly how you do a remake.
Footnote: Here's the deal for 2012. Films that are wicked, will get a Pura Review while the useless ones will get a mere 100 Word Review. Fair, na?
If at any point in time I was being harassed by sadak chap gundas, I’d expect to be helped. Not because I’m a single girl— trust me, I can take care of myself, but more so because it is the ethical thing to do. And if my man (provided I had one), was roughing it out with these goons, I would not expect bystanders to watch like they were watching some film ki shooting. So when I heard about Keenan Santos and Reuben Fernandez dying at the hands of hooligans who have no respect for women, I really felt the need to express my sadness, grief and anger.
By now, everyone knows what happened. Two innocent boys were just looking out for their women and in the bargain were stabbed to death. And while you’d expect the goons to be charged and punished almost immediately, that is not the case. But what do you expect from India, right? In a country where the system can screw you over, you hardly expect justice for young heroes. It so happens that these cowards, who obviously do not even have respect for their own mothers and sisters, have connections with the other goons in the country, the politicians. So how does one expect any justice for these lads?
Welcome to India, where we simultaneously deal with female infanticide on a daily basis, insist our country is Bharat Mata and pray to female goddesses for power, money and wisdom, a shameless man eves teasing women on the streets of Mumbai is ironical and of course, wrong. Where do you place him? He clearly doesn’t realize the respect we place on women in the country. Why not? Probably uneducated, illiterate, power and money hungry. Who do we blame for this? The government? Society?
This is not about anything but how eff’ed up the system is. When young Indians come out to do what our police should be doing and land up dead in the bargain, then you bloody hell know there is something very wrong. The system has to be defeated. If you commit a crime, irrespective of you who the hell you are, what connections you have and which social strata you belong to, you have to be punished.
What does the death of two innocent boys who only wanted to protect their girlfriends tell us? Besides the obvious— a flawed corrupt system; it tells us that the people of Mumbai are not safe on their city’s streets past 10 pm. For ages now, we’ve thrived on this very idea. "Mumbai is safer than Delhi," we tell everyone. Not the case anymore, clearly.
I think it’s fabulous that the youth of India are unhappy with the incident and are coming together to ensure that such a tragedy doesn’t occur again. There is zero tolerance for such terrible behavior. But no candlelight vigil, no protests, no Anna Hazare style andolan will help change what has happened. It is up to the youth to bring this issue to the forefront so much so that the system has to change. If this is how it is now, then you can only imagine what the city will come to in the future.
As for the criminals, they seem to be showing no remorse I hear. If this is how they show their mardangi, then castrate them I say. They’ve lived life thinking with the wrong head; eliminate it. Trust me, saari ki saari mardangi nikaal aayegi. And if you were one of the bystanders who stood and watched, I hope you never cross paths with me. Cause the gaalis you’ll hear from me, you’ll wish you weren’t born. You’re as guilty, if not more guilty.
It’s really hard sometimes to blog about issues that bug me sitting on the opposite side of the hemisphere. This is one such case. If this case isn’t fast tracked, given special attention/consideration and the criminals aren’t punished severely, I’ll be bloody pissed off. I do hope justice prevails for both the young boys. They deserve it. These are in every sense of the phrase modern day heroes. #Respect.
The Urban Rickshaw is my attempt at a monthly column. Why the title? Umm, quite simply cause I’m as urban as they get (ironically, I currently reside in the burbs of California but boo hoo) and the autorickshaw is my most favorite mode of transport. There’s no real smart funda here. But figuratively speaking, The Urban Rickshaw aims to take you on a “ride” through issues and news that affects modern, urban folks— much like us. All this as you chill on my rickshaw, of course.
Kim Kardashian…if only she were Desi
They knew early!
So for all this talk about love and nuptials, Kim has really put herself in quite a predicament with her 72 day marriage, no? While the international media is calling this a staged act, a publicity stunt and so on, here’s a Desi girl’s take on the her quickie marriage and even quicker divorce. Personally, I’m slightly more conservative when it comes to marriage— this is my OTT Desi opinion, but I think marriage is a bond forever. No matter how hard it gets. Please note: I am a byproduct of a “broken home” putting it politically incorrectly. My parents worked at it for seventeen years before they called it quits. Kim’s 72 days is a complete sham in comparison. On the other hand, if I shed my conservative mask, I think she knew she was doomed from the beginning. For all those who followed Kim and Kris Humphries from their courting to marriage, you figured out rather early that he was a royal jerk. That said, she could have easily called it off, one would think. Problem is she would have lost out on close to $18 million buckaroos. Ain’t nobody gonna give that up. And so, it made more sense for her to live with the jerk— yes, that is what we are naming him forever, stick it out for a few days, all of 72, and then ta-ta bye-bye. Now if Kim were Desi, she may have stuck it out a bit more: 720 days at least. Then we probably wouldn’t have deemed her pathetic and so on. Where do I lie with this? On the fence. So I put this to the one woman who would give me the best explanation: my grandmother. Her answer: “What do Americans know about marriage? It’s a joke for them. And a woman is incomplete without a man, you know (this was a stab at me, by the way). Now everyone will look at her and say, ‘See she couldn’t even keep her man.’” On a side note, I refused to tell her this was her second marriage. I was too worried she’d have a heart attack.
Barbie Gone Deglam
Barbie the Nerd
I really thought it was only our Bollywood actresses who went about scraping for deglam roles because they believed it would add substance to their careers. Negative. The makers of Barbie have come out with this new angle to Barbie called, “I Can Be”. The idea is to normalize Barbie. So now instead of Princess Barbie and Prom Barbie, you can have Architect Barbie—which is apparently the 2011 career of the year (where they got this from, I have no idea). Is anyone else really bummed by this? I’ll be the first to admit it. I loved Barbie as a child. But I liked her cause she was out of the ordinary, popular and perfect. Barbie didn’t go to school, struggle with acne or bullying. She was OTT and that was the magnetizing factor. She was anything but regular. By normalizing her, Mattel has totally taken away the Barbie novelty factor. What upset me even more was when I saw Computer Engineer Barbie. Imagine all the sleazy Desi guys at Cisco Bangalore. The thought of a Barbie working in their office must really make them want to work “harder”. In the words of Twitter, #epicfail.
And keeping with the theme of autorickshaws, guess what? Mumbai rickshaw wallahs will now be given a lesson or two in politeness and etiquette. Yeah, no more rude crude drivers. What more could you want? The best mode of transport and good service too. Oh and soon, you’ll be able to dial and call for a rick. It just gets better!
That Girl in Yellow Boots is by far one of the darkest movies of the year. The film depicts Ruth’s trail in Mumbai as she looks for her father. In the meantime, she sees a life of pain, grime and disgust. TGIYB is hard-hitting but honest in many ways. In many ways, it’s exactly what you expect from Anurag Kashyap. Too predictable. Kalki needs to watch herself. This role is too far up her alley and so naturally, she is more than awesome at it. Watch for the twistedness and frank conversations filled with explicit words in Hindi and English.
You remember how I absolutely loved Rahul Gandhi and I couldn’t get enough of him? Yeah, that’s not the case anymore. I’m just appalled by how Rahul Baba has been behaving and reacting in the last few days what with all the Anna Hazare hoopla. Good manners and tezheeb all the sewers. Everyone knows that Manmohan Singh is capable of zilch without his master’s (Sonia and Rahul) guidance (read: orders). And so in times like this, where a man of prominence and age is fasting unto death until his demands are not made or at least negotiated with, you would expect the Prime Minister to come out and lead. But nope. That isn’t going to happen because his puppeteers were not around what with Sonia being ill and Rahul attending to mommy while the country goes up in chaos.
I honestly found myself comparing Rahul Baba to the Shiv Sena. When the 26/11 attacks were being carried out in Mumbai, Raj Thackeray was MIA. This time round, it’s Rahul Gandhi who has fled the scene of action. It was only after the dust settled did they appear to scream and shout inept chants. All we heard was “falana falana”. So in reality, how are Gandhi and his party any different from the Shiv Sena? In times of need and leadership, they both hide from taking charge. Scared much?
And then there is the other angle. I have a feeling that one of the reasons Rahul Baba is really upset is because Anna is getting a lot of attention. In fact, he has very quickly become a renowned youth icon. And considering Rahul was all about targeting the youth of the country, perhaps he feels slightly threatened. That too by a man who is seventy-plus and not as hot. How dare Anna do that? Win the popularity contest! It is probably for this very reason that he finally crawled out of his Italian hole and decided he needed to say erm, something. Basically, he spoke nonsense. And while he claims he is “concerned” for Anna’s life and health, you can’t help but wonder exactly how much he really cares.
But in reality, Rahul Baba really needs to watch out. See, the country has come together to fight against corruption; a deep-rooted predicament in India. So right now, they don’t give two hoots about Rahul Gandhi or any Gandhi for that matter. To them, the Gandhi’s initially tried to stop a protest vis-à-vis arresting Anna on day 1 of the fast. Democracy, tu hai kahan? A totally utterly-butterly undemocratic move by the Amul Baby and his band of boys - That said, if something does happen to Anna considering his health is deteriorating by the hour, who will be blamed?
Look, I don’t really completely understand the Jan Lokpal Bill which is ultimately the problem I think – but that’s another blog post. However, I do feel that the manner in which the government is running currently is just plain undemocratic. Check it out. If the bill does pass, word for word, then perhaps the MMSs' government is scared of how many of its own corrupt people will be exposed.
Let’s be honest, Rahul Gandhi has not contributed anything of significance to the country. Unless you consider his dashing good looks (can't deny him of it) and suave ways somewhat of a contribution. However, at the end of the day, he is still India’s Amul Baby. Moral of the story: herowala looks and an eminent last name do not maketh a political leader. Off you go now. Crawl back to mommy’s lap.
** This was written before Anna’s fast came to its end. Just forgot to hit publish. Me is a duffer.
Every year on August 15th, I blog about one event: India's Independence. Today, strangely, I'm a rather odd state of mind. I woke up this morning ready to rant on about what a proud nation we are. Independent,. modern and savvy. So why is it then, I find myself lost amidst negative comments from locals. Some call our independence an "illusion" while others question what the point of our independence is? Today is a day where we are supposed to remember the teachings of Gandhi. But what do we really have to remember? That we're independent of a country that ruled over us for years before we finally kicked them out? But over 60 years later, are we really independent? Till date, we hear of stories of the female infanticide, dowry, corruption and even caste discrimination. Not really independent from our mentality or thinking.
This word, "independence" is totally taken for granted. Physical independence was the initial problem. And so through brave hearts like Gandhi and Nehru, we drove out the British. That act in itself was a foundation for what should have followed. However, here we are 64 years later, still reeling in issues that are rather sticky. Ultimately the problem is simple: a lack of education. And let's not confuse education with literacy. There is a huge difference.
But is it fair to blame all the above issues on the uneducated/illiterate? As educated Indians, we too have a responsibility towards our country. The first of course is simple. Vote. The illiterate do not know the difference between their politicians. They're hungry for anything and thus, will place their vote in those who provide them with empty promises. Every time a metro voter chooses not to go out and vote, you allow one more corrupt politician to gain another illiterate vote.
The youth have a responsibility to get involved. It's your country, your future. If you're sick of the system, then get up, get out and do something. There is no point sitting on your young buttock watching your country falter at the hands of ministers who are filling their pockets. And if you're told you don't know what you're talking about, bachche ho tum and all that jazz, then instead of shrugging and walking away, take a stand. The power of the youth should never be underestimated.
Look to say we're not an independent strong nation is totally false. This is one of the reasons we're attacked by terrorists regularly. They fear the pace at which we're progressing. But this is not a reason to back down. In fact now more than ever, we need to get it together. The time is now. Our freedom fighters say, "This is not the India we fought for." It's now time to make it that India.
Today happens to be one of my most favorite days of the year. I miss my summers in Bombay where I'd run down to my building podium in my pj's to watch the tricolor go up. A moment of pride would fall over me. And even though I'm on the opposite hemisphere today, my heart beats saffron, white and green. I am and will always be a proud Indian. Jai Hind!
It’s a dog eat dog world – even in Bhindi Bazaar, Mumbai. The film follows the lives of an organized gang who deal in pick-pocketing. When each of them decides that they want to reach the top, they find themselves adopting methods which end up in their individual destruction. As a product, BB Inc. is not aesthetically beautiful but as a story, it is hard hitting. Director Ankush Bhatt does a fabulous job of depicting the underbelly of Mumbai. The performances are independently honest; each actor – unknown and known, are incredible. BB Inc. is an underdog film that should be watched.
It felt like a scene straight out of a Hindi movie. I woke up to voice mails and nonstop messages from friends letting me know that Mumbai had been attacked. Again. My heart literally went dhak-dhak; dhak-dhak; dhak-dhak. I jumped out of bed with a lump in my throat and crashed on my couch in front of the television. For a hard core Mumbaikar (at heart at least) like myself, sitting and watching your favorite city up in flames, courtesy of a series of coordinated bombs, from the opposite hemisphere is heart wrenching. I found myself falling into 26/11 mode. Unhappy, angry, scared and furious, I heard the updates while my Mother called relatives and friends to check on their safety. Lucky for us, our loved ones were all safe and sound.
I have one question for the Indian government: can you or can't you protect your citizens? It is just not fair for Mumbaikars to deal with such incidents over and over again. Just because they happen to be a resilient city, this does not mean this vitality should be taken for granted. Everyone has a breaking point. If you, the Indian government, cannot protect your taxpaying citizens, then either you step down so we can find an administration that will or you step it up. Trust me, there will come a point where the citizens of the country will hit their saturation point and then, they will take it upon themselves to protect their country. And if they revolt, you'll find yourself dealing with dire circumstances; one that will be harder to control.
The details will keep coming in and we'll hear from the government who 'condemn' the attacks. Of course you do! The five year-old kid down the street playing gaali cricket condemns it. Our government uses that word far too loosely, it really pisses me off. But where are our Marathi manoos? The Shiv Sena, as usual hibernating in their homes, will come out of their hiding tomorrow morning and tell us how 'upset' they are. No one will take responsibility and we'll go back to believing that we are safe. For now at least.And we'll have those Candlelight Vigils headed by Bollywood stars but what good will that do?
This time however, the panic was not insane. We saw Mumbaikars come out to help one another. Twitter was used effectively while the rumors were kept to a complete minimum. It was all information and for the first time, Social Media in India did not sensationalize a dire situation.
Personally, I don't know what to say this time around. Who do we blame? The terrorists? Why should we blame them. They know we aren't and can't be protected and thus, they attack us again and again. Or should we blame our government? The ones we vote for or really, don't vote for. It's times like this I always say, if you didn't vote, then you need to STFU. It's because of you - the educated non-voter, that we have a government that is incapable. And it's not the rich that suffers; it's the common man on the street who hurts the most. The man who decided to have a quick bhel puri at Zaveri Bazaar, who will never come home again.
Look, terrorism has no religion but we know where it's coming from. So where do we go from here?
Ekta Kapoor’s Shor is one that has already been making waves internationally. The city of dreams, Mumbai, Shor follows the lives of goons who run the “fake” book industry in the city. When they land their hands on a bag of weapons, they find themselves going green with greed. On the flip side, an aspiring cricketer has to pay a bribe if he is to get on the team and marry his girl. Fabulously captured with great performances all around. The characterization of Mumbai is beautifully depicted during festival season. Shor is a must watch…and not just for Mumbaikars.
You’ve probably heard the term but are totally unaware as to what on earth Bollywood. Yes, it is a name that has been ripped off the American film industry but you have to head to the opposite hemisphere to get a load of India’s answer to cinema, Bollywood – a term that is derived from Hollywood but since the hub to films in India was Bombay (now Mumbai), it was mixed to create Bollywood. I’ve been a fan since I can remember. Growing up away from India, it was my only way to feel connected. In many ways, it has molded me to become the person I am today: patriotic, emotional and well, screwed in many ways. Bollywood has set some seriously unrealistic expectations for love and men. But getting back to basics, the Hindi film industry is hardly a new phenomenon.
While the first film to come out of India was a silent one back in 1913, it wasn’t the first film that local Indians were introduced to. According to a renowned site, Bollywood Tourism, “The year was 1896, and thanks to the country’s colonial rulers, it was the Lumiere Brothers who introduced the art of cinema to the sub-continent. Bombay, as it was then called, was the first Indian city to screen Cinematography, six short films by these cinematic pioneers.” Very quickly after, Bollywood was established and created its own niche filled with song and dance, emotion and drama.
As it moved quickly from silent films to the “talkies” era, the technology used rapidly modernized. As the country gained independence from the British, it’s films went into what was known as the “Golden Age”. “But it was the Golden Age – 1950s and 1960s – that produced some of India’s most critically acclaimed films and memorable actors of all time,” Bollywood Tourism explains further. This is true as some of the most prevalent and classic Hindi films came from this era. In fact, some of Bollywood’s biggest stars were made during this time.
Things changed as time went on and what then developed was the “Masala” (spice) generation. Films became a lot more entertaining as more money was poured into the filmmaking process. The idea of India being depicted as a fashion-forward started during the late seventies and till date is an important facet of filmmaking in India. Currently, Bollywood is a globally known industry. Films from India compete at an international level not only because the stories tend to be different but because of their commercial value too. Right now, Indian cinema is going through yet another transition – the Gloss Epoch. Films from India are not only being featured worldwide but actors from the Bollywood are being called to work in different acting industries across the planet.
What sets Bollywood apart from Hollywood, besides the length, (Hindi films range from 2 to 3 hours long) and the song and dance routine, are the numbers. “Hollywood produces 500 films per year on average and has a worldwide audience of 2.6 billion whereas Bollywood produces more than 1000 (not consistently) films every year and has a worldwide audience of 3 Billion. In terms of viewership, Bollywood overtook Hollywood in 2004 and has been leading ever since,” claims Mutiny. Interestingly, Hollywood also recognizes that Bollywood is no longer its competition but understands and knows that Bollywood is now the capital of cinema in the world. However, this doesn’t mean that Hollywood is a thing of the past. “Hollywood has an overwhelming domination among the top grossers worldwide – almost all of the top 50 movies are made in Hollywood.” (Mutiny) The west has its own developed idea of cinema which is undeniably one that cannot be imitated but that doesn’t mean to say that Bollywood should be shunned.
What Bollywood offers to its fans is 3 hours of escapism, music and dance which are sung all over the world by Indians near and far. It seems to be only getting bigger and better with time. And to give you some trivia into how big Bollywood stars are, the biggest star in India, Shah Rukh Khan has more than fans than hottie Tom Cruise. #BollywoodisBetter
Tournament: Asia Cup Venue: Sharjah, UAE Date: April 9th, 1995
The Men in Blue were playing Sri Lanka…while I was shaadi shopping for my mamu’s wedding.
Shaadi shopping is never fun when you’re thirteen. In fact, when you’d much rather be out playing dog-and-the-bone with your building friends, it is by far one of the most exasperating situations. With a grouchy face, I dragged myself around Bombay city trying to understand why a thirteen-year-old needed to come shopping for a wedding especially since all my clothes were already bought. But as we traveled from store to store, I found myself rather intrigued by the lack of productivity that was occurring at these dhukans. Quickly, I realized that sari shop attendants were swamped around television sets. It was only when a customer walked in that they forcefully diverted their attention to serving you. As my mother tried what was easily her 100th sari, I found myself curious. “What’s going on?” I remember asking my father, who was equally as bored but refused to let it be shown on his face. “Cricket,” my father said, “Cricket is happening.” With zero knowledge, I decided I’d take a peek at this sport. And at that very minute, it really happened. Sachin Tendulkar walked onto the field and the rest, as they say, is history.
My introduction to cricket was because of a bored experience, but it became a passion because of apna Master Blaster. It took me time to grasp the sport one hundred percent but this particular game is etched in my mind because of the 10dulkar. I vividly remember him walking out to the wicket and while the sari shopwallahs explained to Baby Roshni how the game worked, Sachin was playing an incredible knock. They cheered at every boundary he hit and while I dashed in and out of stores realizing that Sachin would hit a century, which I learned was a huge deal. And as my mother tried on her last sari, which she did buy praise the lord, Sachin, who was at 99 at the previous store, scored his 100th run. For the first time, I saw myself looking at this man in complete awe. But it didn’t end there, Tendlya went to finish off the game, 125 not out.
Not only did I become a fanatic, from that day on, but perhaps one of Sach’s biggest fans. And I have no qualms in admitting that I am biased towards Tendulkar. Irrespective of how many runs he scores, he does it the best. Out on 5? Best of the 5 runs in the game, I say. Whenever I find myself at loggerheads with non-India team players, I find myself jutting out Sachin’s name and silence falls upon the argument. Sachin always wins. Sachin always rocks. Sachin always gets the loudest roars and cheers.
It’s not just his game which I simply can’t get enough of. Yes, he hits those amazing cover drives which make you sigh as you view perfection. But as a Sachin fan, it’s the experience of watching the maestro hit a 100. At 99, your heart beats at a pace that is unfathomable. But watching him raise his bat as he runs the 100th run, peace falls over you. You have witnessed a piece of art, the finest.
It’s the man’s birthday on April 24th, and I have no words to explain how much I simply adore him. It’s respect to the maximum, devotion of the utmost. And so on the occasion of his 38th birthday, I just want to bow in front of the man who has taught me that ainvayi people are successful but the sachi (truly) most successful ones are those who are grounded and humble. Those who follow their dreams with a true heart and those who display passion in all they do. I salute you, oh great one. The Master, the Blaster, the God, the Slashin, 10dulkar, we love you. Tum jeeyo hazaaron saal, yeh meri hai arzoo. Happy Birthday to you!
Rajshri takes a look at traditional values versus modern ones in Isi Life Mein. The story follows the life of one Rajnandini (Sandeepa Dhar) who is allowed to head to Mumbai from Ajmer to experience life outside her sheltered home. She meets Vivaan (Akshay Oberoi) who teaches her how to live while she maintains her sanskars. They duo fight for their new values as they discover their love for each other. Great performances by the newcomers. An interesting story which could have been portrayed better and has a point which it never seems to make sadly. Good Sunday family watch!
I love cricket. No wait, I love, heart, pyar, ishq, mohabbat the sport. Ask anyone and they’ll tell you, “Roshni is the mistress of cricket!” I'm not your average team India fan. I don't just get happy when team India wins, I cry my eyes out. I don't get upset when the team loses, I find myself sulking for days. I'm not sure what my connection with cricket is. I was all of eleven when my Father introduced me to the sport. We were shopping for my uncles wedding and I found myself surprised to find every store in Mumbai equipped with a television surrounded its employees. I question the infatuation and guess what? It hit me like a googly. I was bowled out, middle stump. After I learned the basics and intricate details, I found myself mesmerized, addicted, obsessed. From then on, I became a team India cricket fanatic following the team through all their tours and even the 2007 World Cup. I knew then, I was hooked for life. It wasn't as though I became a team India fan by default. Yes, I love India, everyone knows that but I genuinely believed (and still do) in the temperament and future of Indian cricket. The talent was (and is) incredible. Like every cricket fan, I too was waiting with baited breath for the team to take home the Cricket World Cup. With every win over the last few years, the team proved more and more, that they deserved it. On April 2nd, 2011, it happened. You, team India, fulfilled the ultimate Indian cricket fans dream: you won the Cricket World Cup on home ground.
As soon as the skipper hit the last sixer out of the stadium, I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer. And then I did what I didn't think I would do: I cried. Why I bawled? I'll never know. Maybe it was because of sheer pride for my country. Maybe it was because as a cricket fan, I saw my team, whom I loved and followed for years now, complete a dream that every fan wished for. Or maybe it was just one of those moments where happiness couldn't be expressed in any other way but sheer tears. In fact, it took me a few hours for this reality to sink in before the rona-dona completely stopped.
I'm not sure what incentive you boys went in with. Whether it was for to prove to the world, that you are indeed are the best, or it was to give Sachin the best farewell World Cup or for just for the country. Whatever your incentive, my boys, you played like complete champions. From the first match through to the final, you proved that you really are world class cricketers in every sense of the way and put every critic, who didn't think you lads could do it, to shame.
Like fans all over, I too watched in horror when Dhoni walked onto the pitch ahead of Yuvraj. “What on earth!” I thought. And I'll be honest, I have been skeptical of M.S. Dhoni as a captain. Not because he isn't capable of producing results. No. He is India's most successful captain and has proved it time and time again. His selfless attitude is one that is admirable in every which way. Dhoni's love for his boys and his eagerness for them to perform is beautiful. But it's his arrogance that irked me. However, at the final, he really outdid himself. His decision to come in and take care of the game was one that I’ll never question. What I believed would bring him down, he worked to his advantage. There was pressure but at no point did he display it nor did he crumble. Straight faced he handled it. And then, when it was really needed, the skipper played the ultimate captain’s innings. To you, I owe an apology. In all honesty, this World Cup would have been impossible without you. Captain Cool, you rock!
And how can I forget the one man whom I look up to, admire and worship in the cricket world, Mr. Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar. The joy I felt when I saw you being carried by the team around the grounds, flag and cup in hand, is one that I will never forget. There is and will never be a cricketer like you. You style, grace and humility can never be imitated. And I assure you, not only me, but Indians all over including your team, will agree with me. Sachin Tendulkar, thank you for making Indian cricket what it is today. We love you!
Lastly, while we all sit and go on about the team without giving the man who changed the face of this team: Gary Kirsten. We see so little of him, but it is really the South African coach who turned things around for Team India. The team we see today, a world class team, is only because of him. The whole country salutes you, Gary. Kudos!
I never doubted you Team India. Even when it looked tough out there, I had faith in you boys. And every time you pulled through like true champions. As Indians, we couldn't be more proud of you all. We prayed hard, over one billion of us. We chanted shloks, hymns and prayer beads at every match. And yes, we all succumbed to strange superstitions – staying seated in the same chair for an entire innings if we needed to as we were scared things would fall apart if we moved. But you gave us exactly what we wanted: dhinchak, bindaas, fultoo cricket followed by the biggest jeet, any Indian could ask for.
As I sit to write this piece today, it is April 3rd 2011. A whole day has passed since the victory and it happens to be my birthday. A few weeks ago, I was asked, "What do you want for a birthday present?" My answer: "For India to win the Cricket World Cup." Thank you for giving me the best birthday present any Indian cricket fan could ask for. Nothing could substitute for a better present. Not a diamond ring, not a million bucks, not even a Bollywood blockbuster. As for the party? Well, a party that has been 28 years in the making has to be fab! Ask people on the streets in India who partied like it was millennium.
Men in Blue, M.S. Dhoni, Virender Sehwag, Sachin Tendulkar, Gautam Gambhir, Virat Kohli, Yuvraj Singh, Suresh Raina, Harbhajan Singh, Zaheer Khan, Munaf Patel, Sreesanth, Ashish Nehra, Piyush Chawla, R. Ashwin and Yusuf Pathan, Congratulations! We won!
Love always:
A proud Indian, a Desi girl who loves cricket, vows to Bleed Blue forever and the happiest birthday girl in the world!
Bipasha Basu has always been one of the most honest and educated actresses who speaks sense. But the actress went on to totally piss me off today. Her yummy boyfriend John Abraham was caught in 2006 for rash driving after his bike collided with a cyclist. He injured two including himself and while he rushed the victims to the nearest government hospital and drove himself to a posh luxury hospital. And of course courtesy of the Indian judicial system, he only received his sentence for his crime now in 2010. It wasn’t too much – just 15 days in jail. Needless to say, he managed to put bail and thus, is still out and about.
Now what irks me about Basu is the manner in which she handled her beau’s sentencing. Absolutely nothing about his accident screams decent. The fact that he was driving rashly and caught means that the actor was not being the so-called law abiding citizen he claims to be. Fine you wear a helmet and preach the importance of it, but when you drive like you own the street and then manage to hit two innocent pedestrians on cycles, and then you drive them to a government hospital when he gets treated at a classy treatment facility. Uh… so the government hospital isn’t worthy of you? Or maybe it’s the other way; the citizens aren’t worth the expense of the renowned Lilavati Hospital. Whatever it is, it basically proves one thing: John Abraham, you ain’t no angel.
Alright so he finally gets his judgment and apparently, when it was read out to him, the actor went pale in the face. Of course he did. Which actor wouldn’t? After all, a prison cell in Mumbai wouldn’t be anything like your Pali Hill apartment. But then the highlight of all this are the comments from Bipasha Basu.
Her first statement was, “He is not an irresponsible person. In fact, he’s very conscious of his social responsibilities. Its unfair to punish him for an incident in which he was hurt the most.” Are you for real? The fact that he was out and driving like a maniac proves that irrespective of who was hurt most, he was the offender. And just because you happen to be a celebrity, it doesn’t mean that he deserves special treatment.
And then the icing on the cake was, “As an individual and a citizen of this country, I can only say what I feel. And I have to say, with due respect to the legal system, that John doesn’t deserve this. Just because he happens to be a star, he’s an easy target. The same offence committed by a non-celebrity would most likely be treated differently. Since he rides a bike, he’s very careful about road rules. He doesn’t allow any of his friends to drive out on a bike without a helmet. He doesn’t bribe the cops, he pays his taxes… what is he being punished for?” Really Bipasha. We expect much more from you. If a “normal” person had committed the same crime, you wouldn’t have heard of it because he would have been sentenced immediately and I guarantee he would have been imprisoned for more than 15 days. In addition, he would have been the subject of physical abuse. And IF by chance you would have heard of the incident, you would have said that the judicial system was right to punish him for such a crime. So don’t give us this bull.
The Indian government has to come down hard on wreckless driving because far too many rich kids and celebs like John Abraham believe that they can get away with it. In the meantime, people die and suffer at the lost of a family member who is a son, a father and an earner for the family. So next time Bipasha, save it. We know celebs want special treatment. But you ain’t getting it.
Old news: I love Mumbai. At heart, I'll always be a Bombaywalli, sorry Bombayite, oh sorry again, Mumbaikar. Yes, the politically correct term for a Mumbai resident is a Mumbaikar. Any of those three monikers will do for me; ultimately they all mean the same. I'm not exactly how and why my connection with Mumbai is so strong but it's the only place on the planet I consider home. Perhaps it's more of a psychological connect. I associate the city with some of my most fond memories which include family, friends and of course, films. But I think my connection is far more deeper. My senses are immediately heightened the minute I land in the city. All the scents regular people complain of, I crave for: the dirt, the humidity, the phinal - all of it.
Memories: The Taj Mahal Hotel, Colaba
It's really odd how people go through their entire lives simply in accord with where they're born as home. No one really feels the need to find their home. But then again, each of us have a different definition of the word "home". Anyway, for me I always feel that at some point in my own life I'd have a permanent home in Mumbai. The city has taught me, even from afar, to simply believe. I'm not sure what vibe Mumbai possesses, one that neither New York or Hong Kong even closely can imitate, but it works for me. It's exciting and scary, tingling and daring but it's exactly what excites me.
Where else in the world would seeing people sleeping on the streets seem super normal even though it isn't correct? You could walking in the dreaded heat and humidity but all it takes is a good chilled glass of nimbu pani and you're ready to face the grind again. Amidst the immense negatives, Mumbai manages to suck you in as you slowly love the asphalt and cement. A concrete jungle which is warm and welcoming.
Hanging Gardens!
But it's the people who make the city so god-damned addictive. They will give it to you as it is and yet welcome you with warm arms. And yet certain areas of the city are so intensely mesmerizing, that you find yourself submerged in a confused state of mind; to love or not?
I for one, am Mumbai's biggest fan. I don't care what anyone says, I simply love the city. Nothing, and I mean N.O.T.H.I.N.G can stop me from my love and I uniting forever.
Roshni- shameless writer, pompous blogger, nautanki, passionate Indian, Bollywood/documentary film junkie, drama queen, non-conformer, quintessential Basanti.
If you think you’ve hit yet another one of woh-wale blogs, then I’m here to tell you otherwise. I’m hardly your 'run of the mill' writer. To me, the current Indian government is a piece of crap but the monsoon rains makes Bombay (yeah, I said Bom-Bay; shoot me already Shiv Sena) absolutely heavenly. The scent of phenyl at Chhatrapati Shivaji Airport makes me tear with nostalgia while the sound of honking autos is totally O.K. to me. I'm currently in a love-hate relationship with Bollywood and yet I’m the biggest Hindi cinema freak. They don’t call me a walking-talking Stardust for no reason. I’m sick of hearing of Ranbir Kapoor linkups with actress XYZ but when he drops his towel, well, then baby, I’m a fan. I love Cricket and bleed blue for my boys every time Team India plays. I think Desi reality shows are a load of bullocks (too much chillam-chillee for me) but watch them incestuously. I live a life of contradictions, walk like diva, currently reside in a country I detest, cannot understand why sex is such a taboo, love/celebrate every festival and intend on opening a cupcake shack on a beach in Goa when I retire. I conceal my item girl ada and nazakat (theeki, namkeen, mirchi and of course, meethi) behind a Rajshri heroine veil. Think of me as Desi daaru in a champagne bottle.
So why should you read my blog? Well, besides the fact ke mein asli entertainment, entertainment, entertainment hoon, Roshni Write Now displays the wild side of a good girl. This is how I see it; what annoys, irks, irritates me and of course, what I love, worship and choose to glorify. This is the world through my dark brown eyes.
A quick heads up. I live a masala-filled life overflowing with chutzpah, dhinchak lines, filmy situations and slightly ghaati Hindi gaalis. There's no measuring for me; I'm an extremist. I love as passionately as I hate but somehow I'm a people person who is curious (read: nosy) about others lives. Another piece of FYI, I have a fetish for shoes, cupcakes, ginger, dim sum and all objects heart-shaped. I use the following words in excess: Uff, Offo, Whatever, Ainvayi, Ditto, Dukkar and Anal. My accent is constantly fluctuating- Desi/Hinglish to American and British all combined in a sentence courtesy of my global living. You will see glimpses of all this and much more in my writing.
I speak my mind and it gets me into trouble. I wear my heart on my sleeve and that seems to have gotten me no where too. You'd think I'd have learned by now but I have yet to learn (and master) the art of diplomacy. It's on my 'To Do' list.
Mujhe afsos karna nahi aata, so if I upset you, get over it instead of taking panga with me because I always win. Lastly, while I refuse to kiss ass, I sure as hell can kick some. I see the world through Desi eyes and can Desify anything, anyone, any topic. Try me.
