is different. Bombay post break is different. Three short scenes on this different life so far. Thoughts and comments, as always, welcome.
*****
When did this being on break become cool? We (self and wife) were out for an evening walk the other day and I get a call from someone I know who was – as the term goes – slogging away at office. And it’s not the first one of these types I’ve got. Now I don’t think I’m appearing cool because it’s a decision I took and remember it’s you who’s getting the monthly paycheck. But if you’re gonna shower me with all the “lucky you, how does it feel” thing, then well, what do you expect? So here, this is what I’m up to. I’m taking a walk, seeing the sunset, soaking it all in, on a weekday. I never thought I could do it, and believe me, I wish I can keep this going for the rest of my life. And since you asked, yes, it feels great.
*****
The Bombay I knew from my office cubicle is so distant from the Bombay I see now. One thing I’m sure about is that Bombay sure isn’t dead. As long as its people run, Bombay’s full of life. Overflowing with life. Man, except me, everyone’s running. The poor run, the rich run. So do the young and the old (this seemingly 70+, woman almost trampled me when I came in her way today). Rich and poor alike. Running on the road, running on the railway tracks, running with their cars. All running for something, with something, because of something, towards something. I don’t know what makes them run. But as long as they run, Bombay runs. Don’t mistake this for the “spirit of the city” – if you did, then you’re probably a Bombay romantic. Or work for the media. Me? I’ve never believed in a “spirit of Bombay”. The only spirit Bombay has is money and it sure as hell keeps it high.
*****
The scene that will remain me for a long time is when I’m at a school playground catching up with someone I haven’t met in a while. We’re sitting, watching the kids play. They’re practicing running, athletics or whatever it is. Instructors are pacing the kids, the kids are racing with each other. The older ones are running laps. Over the playground and over the mud-kicked dusty air, the sun is setting, setting off its usual riot of colors in the sky that makes me linger on more to sunsets than sunrises. And there’s this palpable sense of freedom. Of absolute, boundless freedom. I can see it in the children, I can sense it in the air. As a passing thought, the concept of open space becomes more real to me than it ever has in my life. But there’s this freedom. As if all that’s there is that moment. That’s what it’s about really. How free do I want to be. Everything else kinda settles down around. Just like the dust and the grass around those kids.
Showing posts with label Bombay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bombay. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Bombay's Black Friday, never forget
Blast 1 - 1.28pm - The Bombay Stock Exchange. 84 dead, 217 injured.
Blast 2 - 2.15pm - Narsi Natha Street. 5 dead, 16 injured.
Blast 3 - 2.25pm - Air India Building. 20 dead, 87 injured.
Blast 4 - 2.30pm - Lucky Petrol Pump, Dadar. 4 dead, 50 injured.
Blast 5 - 2.55pm - Century Bazaar. 113 dead, 227 inured.
Blast 6 - 3.05pm - Zaveri Bazaar. 17 dead, 57 injured.
Blast 7 - 3.13pm - Plaza Cinema, Dadar. 10 dead, 37 injured.
Blast 8 - 3.20pm - Sea Rock Hotel, Bandra. No one dead or injured.
Blast 9 - 3.25pm - Juhu Centaur Hotel. 3 injured
Blast 10 - 3.35pm - Airport Centaur Hotel. 2 killed, 8 injured.
"Subsequent police investigations revealed that 257 people were either killed or went missing in the blasts while 713 were injured."
Dawood Ibrahim, the main accused, is still at large.
Blast 2 - 2.15pm - Narsi Natha Street. 5 dead, 16 injured.
Blast 3 - 2.25pm - Air India Building. 20 dead, 87 injured.
Blast 4 - 2.30pm - Lucky Petrol Pump, Dadar. 4 dead, 50 injured.
Blast 5 - 2.55pm - Century Bazaar. 113 dead, 227 inured.
Blast 6 - 3.05pm - Zaveri Bazaar. 17 dead, 57 injured.
Blast 7 - 3.13pm - Plaza Cinema, Dadar. 10 dead, 37 injured.
Blast 8 - 3.20pm - Sea Rock Hotel, Bandra. No one dead or injured.
Blast 9 - 3.25pm - Juhu Centaur Hotel. 3 injured
Blast 10 - 3.35pm - Airport Centaur Hotel. 2 killed, 8 injured.
"Subsequent police investigations revealed that 257 people were either killed or went missing in the blasts while 713 were injured."
Dawood Ibrahim, the main accused, is still at large.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Looking for comedy in the Indian world
Before “Flop Show”, there was “Yeh jo hai zindagi” and before both of them, there was “Baban Prabhu and Yakub Sayed” in the Doordarshan days. There was also “Chaal Nawachi vaachal vasti” and a whole lot of Marathi TV serials and legendary Marathi humorists like PuLa, that half of Raj Thackeray’s party members couldn’t even remember. Just like brothers-with-arms, the Samajwadi Party, wouldn’t know Kaka Hathrasi and Ashok Chakradhar. But I digress.
This post is simply about “What makes you LOL?” I’m talking old-fashioned laugh-out-loud. Not a smile, snicker, or heh, but a hearty laugh. Here’s what made me LOL over the years.
First there was..
The earliest stuff made me LOL were all those TV serials mentioned above. I loved them for the simple, situational comedy of everyday life. In movies, “Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro” and “Chashme Buddoor” had me in complete splits. Video was still new and staple viewing included “Mind Your Language”, the “Lemon Popsicle” and “Carry On” movie series. In comics, I was a huge fan of Beetle Bailey, Graffiti, Hagar the Horrible, The Lockhorns and Moose & Molly. (This was obviously before Mid-day in Bombay started my all-time fav “Calvin and Hobbes”)
I discovered the joys of PG when I enrolled at the British Council Library. Other than Mr. Wodehouse, I read magazines Punch and Private Eye and admired the way the Brits tear their politicians apart. In those cable-less days, we were also lucky to see Brit TV series like the legendary "Yes Minister" and "Yes Prime Minister", “Spitting Image”, “Drop the Dead Donkey” and “Fawlty Towers” on good ol’ Doordarshan. There was also “Different Strokes” but give me those Brit comedies any day.
..Then the nineties
With cable coming in the early nineties, Star TV, in its original avatar, showed some excellent stuff like “MASH”, “Home Improvement” and “The Simpsons”. There was also the brilliant improv show “Whose line is it anyway”. The few days that NBC aired in India, I looked forward to “The Tonight Show” with Jay Leno and then “Late night with Conan O’Brien” – quickly coming to prefer Conan to Leno. But NBC shut shop soon deciding that there was no market for an English TV channel in India. It took time for Star TV to agree. (Since then Star has come back with a dedicated English channel, but not NBC).
Later in the 90s, I liked “Friends” for some time but got bored quickly of their self-obsession and sex obsession. An accusation that holds true for just about any American TV series, so it’s only a question of what you can take. So, I took on to “Seinfeld” like crazy. I think it’s the best comedy TV series ever for me. In movies, anything by Zucker-Abrahams was totally LOL’able( “Airplane”, “The Naked Gun” and “Hot Shots” series) and two other landmark comedies of the 90s were “My Cousin Vinny” and “There’s something about Mary”.
The here and now
Cut to present day. I don't think I’m enough. But then, comedy ain’t what it used to be. Political correctness is the order of the day and we take things too seriously. (That’s one reason I enjoy “Curb Your Enthusiasm” – if that’s daily life in the US then it’s more reality than comedy.)
No media house dare make a (comedy) TV series or movie on politics, bureaucracy or the system. Can’t blame them, who’d want their effigies and posters burnt? That sucks so much (just for that hats off to Cyrus Broacha on The Week that Wasn’t). And that’s why I’m a huge fan of “Real Time with Bill Maher”. For the love of God I can’t imagine anyone in Mumbai making fun of either Balu T or Raju T (both of them, ironically, being cartoonists). And I doubt that day would ever come. For example, why has stand-up comedy never taken off in Bombay?
Which means we have to rely mostly on slapstick, parody and risqué humor to run our “Laughter Challenges”. Not that I’ve disliked them. In the past, I’ve enjoyed Raju Srivastav and Sunil Pal much more than any Priyadarshan comedy (barring the first “Hera Pheri”). And I also think Munna-bhai took comedy to a completely different level. But still. There’s only so much that we can come up with. All the laughter shows have become photocopies of each other and I could never stand seeing Sidhu, Shekhar Suman, Mandira Bedi, et al with their over-the-top fake ear-to-ear laughs. The only comedy I enjoy on the Hindi TV channels today is the priceless "Sarabhai v/s Sarabhai". Whoever thought a clash between elitism and middle class-ism could be so hilarious. Ironically, the series has already closed a long time back and what I'm seeing today are re-runs - which are still very funny.
Finally, the internet. From emails, the fore bearers of the tech funnies, to Facebook wall posts, Orkut scraps and youtube videos, I’ve seen barely a handful of really funny stuff. And now there’s blogs. Even here, I’ve stopped following most of the blogs I found funny for a variety of reasons (Gawker being an exception because he's a class apart).
Hm. Funny. When I want it, it does become difficult to find comedy in my current world.
So, what makes you LOL?
This post is simply about “What makes you LOL?” I’m talking old-fashioned laugh-out-loud. Not a smile, snicker, or heh, but a hearty laugh. Here’s what made me LOL over the years.
First there was..
The earliest stuff made me LOL were all those TV serials mentioned above. I loved them for the simple, situational comedy of everyday life. In movies, “Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro” and “Chashme Buddoor” had me in complete splits. Video was still new and staple viewing included “Mind Your Language”, the “Lemon Popsicle” and “Carry On” movie series. In comics, I was a huge fan of Beetle Bailey, Graffiti, Hagar the Horrible, The Lockhorns and Moose & Molly. (This was obviously before Mid-day in Bombay started my all-time fav “Calvin and Hobbes”)
I discovered the joys of PG when I enrolled at the British Council Library. Other than Mr. Wodehouse, I read magazines Punch and Private Eye and admired the way the Brits tear their politicians apart. In those cable-less days, we were also lucky to see Brit TV series like the legendary "Yes Minister" and "Yes Prime Minister", “Spitting Image”, “Drop the Dead Donkey” and “Fawlty Towers” on good ol’ Doordarshan. There was also “Different Strokes” but give me those Brit comedies any day.
..Then the nineties
With cable coming in the early nineties, Star TV, in its original avatar, showed some excellent stuff like “MASH”, “Home Improvement” and “The Simpsons”. There was also the brilliant improv show “Whose line is it anyway”. The few days that NBC aired in India, I looked forward to “The Tonight Show” with Jay Leno and then “Late night with Conan O’Brien” – quickly coming to prefer Conan to Leno. But NBC shut shop soon deciding that there was no market for an English TV channel in India. It took time for Star TV to agree. (Since then Star has come back with a dedicated English channel, but not NBC).
Later in the 90s, I liked “Friends” for some time but got bored quickly of their self-obsession and sex obsession. An accusation that holds true for just about any American TV series, so it’s only a question of what you can take. So, I took on to “Seinfeld” like crazy. I think it’s the best comedy TV series ever for me. In movies, anything by Zucker-Abrahams was totally LOL’able( “Airplane”, “The Naked Gun” and “Hot Shots” series) and two other landmark comedies of the 90s were “My Cousin Vinny” and “There’s something about Mary”.
The here and now
Cut to present day. I don't think I’m enough. But then, comedy ain’t what it used to be. Political correctness is the order of the day and we take things too seriously. (That’s one reason I enjoy “Curb Your Enthusiasm” – if that’s daily life in the US then it’s more reality than comedy.)
No media house dare make a (comedy) TV series or movie on politics, bureaucracy or the system. Can’t blame them, who’d want their effigies and posters burnt? That sucks so much (just for that hats off to Cyrus Broacha on The Week that Wasn’t). And that’s why I’m a huge fan of “Real Time with Bill Maher”. For the love of God I can’t imagine anyone in Mumbai making fun of either Balu T or Raju T (both of them, ironically, being cartoonists). And I doubt that day would ever come. For example, why has stand-up comedy never taken off in Bombay?
Which means we have to rely mostly on slapstick, parody and risqué humor to run our “Laughter Challenges”. Not that I’ve disliked them. In the past, I’ve enjoyed Raju Srivastav and Sunil Pal much more than any Priyadarshan comedy (barring the first “Hera Pheri”). And I also think Munna-bhai took comedy to a completely different level. But still. There’s only so much that we can come up with. All the laughter shows have become photocopies of each other and I could never stand seeing Sidhu, Shekhar Suman, Mandira Bedi, et al with their over-the-top fake ear-to-ear laughs. The only comedy I enjoy on the Hindi TV channels today is the priceless "Sarabhai v/s Sarabhai". Whoever thought a clash between elitism and middle class-ism could be so hilarious. Ironically, the series has already closed a long time back and what I'm seeing today are re-runs - which are still very funny.
Finally, the internet. From emails, the fore bearers of the tech funnies, to Facebook wall posts, Orkut scraps and youtube videos, I’ve seen barely a handful of really funny stuff. And now there’s blogs. Even here, I’ve stopped following most of the blogs I found funny for a variety of reasons (Gawker being an exception because he's a class apart).
Hm. Funny. When I want it, it does become difficult to find comedy in my current world.
So, what makes you LOL?
Friday, January 04, 2008
Mumbai declared safe for women
The following is hereby notified vide Regulation 124/a/c/1/8765 of the Official Change of Status Act, Maharashtra, 1897, read with The Male Female Interaction Code of Conduct, Maharashtra, 555BC.
Mumbai is declared safe for women, provided, subject to:-
(1) The word "safe" means "free from molestation". The term "molestation" is restricted only to actual, proven, physical contact ("PC") between men and women in the city of Bombay/Mumbai. Examples of PC include groping, fondling, massaging, nudging, pressing, grabbing and similar activity.
(1b) However, staring at women, passing lewd remarks at women (for e.g. phrases such as "aati kya Khandala?", "kya maal hai", geographical references such as Aarey Milk Colony, etc.) fondling by man of his genitalia on seeing women, are excluded from the term "molestation". Mens are free to do this with no answerability, accountability, responsibility and any other ability.
(2) Women wearing following banned dressing will not have access to safety, i.e. if women wearing banned outfits below, then they will be subject to molestation at their own risk.
(2a) Indian outfit - sari, blouse, salwar-kameez, punjaabi outfits. Any outfit representing formal or informal attire of any state/UT of India.
(2b) Any other outfit
For best results, we recommend women wear large home furnishings (curtains, bed sheets, drapes) covering entire body with only the nose (specified as the only non-private part of a woman) being exposed for respiratory purposes. We do not take responsibility of women wearing above banned outfits.
Women wearing above banned outfits will be declared "fair game" for molestation with no resort to any authority.
(3) Women drinking any and all forms of alcohols are excluded in above declaration. Women found sipping, tasting, drinking, guzzling, injecting alcohol (in pure, distilled, direct or indirect forms, including soft drinks black in colour, including nail polish removers) do so at their own risk. Women found drinking (irrespective of quantity, irrespective of whether it is free or paid for) will be subject to molestation attempts from men at their own risk and the provisions of this section will instantaneously not apply.
(4) Following persons (including person and family) can say "Mumbai is safe for women"
(4a) Those who have not used public transport since 2002 and hence those who have their own personal transport (all vehicles priced at more than Rs6lakhs)
(4b) Those who only go from home to office and back, with weekend activity restricted to their own homes and those of similar said friends and relatives.
(4c) Those who have never been to malls, parks, promenades, gardens and other public places.
(4d) Those who have never walked on roads, entered lifts with a crowd of more than 5 people with women included.
(4e) Those who do not stroll around market places, vegetable markets, non-vegetable markets or go to pay bills for telephone, electricity or visit banks, hotels and restaurants.
The above-mentioned people (4a to 4e) are hereby authorised to chant "Mumbai is safe for women".
(5) Political parties Shiv Sena and Maharashtra Navnirman Sena will be issuing their own code of conducts, but these will apply to Maharashtrian women only (by birth, preferably not by marriage). Catholic women are free to approach the church. Similarly, we recommend that if you are a woman (defined as non-men), you should contact your nearest political party or religious body for further advice on safety, protection and salvation.
(6) The first 100 reported cases of molestation (starting from night of 31st Dec) in Mumbai will go scot free because these things happen in societies. We do not make mountains of molehills.
(7) The above declaration applies to all days and nights of a calendar year, except New Year's Eve.
Signed,
Those responsible for Mumbai
We invite public comments and opinion for above policy.
Wishing everyone, especially Mumbai's girls, ladies and women, a very safe and happy New Year 2008.
Mumbai is declared safe for women, provided, subject to:-
(1) The word "safe" means "free from molestation". The term "molestation" is restricted only to actual, proven, physical contact ("PC") between men and women in the city of Bombay/Mumbai. Examples of PC include groping, fondling, massaging, nudging, pressing, grabbing and similar activity.
(1b) However, staring at women, passing lewd remarks at women (for e.g. phrases such as "aati kya Khandala?", "kya maal hai", geographical references such as Aarey Milk Colony, etc.) fondling by man of his genitalia on seeing women, are excluded from the term "molestation". Mens are free to do this with no answerability, accountability, responsibility and any other ability.
(2) Women wearing following banned dressing will not have access to safety, i.e. if women wearing banned outfits below, then they will be subject to molestation at their own risk.
(2a) Indian outfit - sari, blouse, salwar-kameez, punjaabi outfits. Any outfit representing formal or informal attire of any state/UT of India.
(2b) Any other outfit
For best results, we recommend women wear large home furnishings (curtains, bed sheets, drapes) covering entire body with only the nose (specified as the only non-private part of a woman) being exposed for respiratory purposes. We do not take responsibility of women wearing above banned outfits.
Women wearing above banned outfits will be declared "fair game" for molestation with no resort to any authority.
(3) Women drinking any and all forms of alcohols are excluded in above declaration. Women found sipping, tasting, drinking, guzzling, injecting alcohol (in pure, distilled, direct or indirect forms, including soft drinks black in colour, including nail polish removers) do so at their own risk. Women found drinking (irrespective of quantity, irrespective of whether it is free or paid for) will be subject to molestation attempts from men at their own risk and the provisions of this section will instantaneously not apply.
(4) Following persons (including person and family) can say "Mumbai is safe for women"
(4a) Those who have not used public transport since 2002 and hence those who have their own personal transport (all vehicles priced at more than Rs6lakhs)
(4b) Those who only go from home to office and back, with weekend activity restricted to their own homes and those of similar said friends and relatives.
(4c) Those who have never been to malls, parks, promenades, gardens and other public places.
(4d) Those who have never walked on roads, entered lifts with a crowd of more than 5 people with women included.
(4e) Those who do not stroll around market places, vegetable markets, non-vegetable markets or go to pay bills for telephone, electricity or visit banks, hotels and restaurants.
The above-mentioned people (4a to 4e) are hereby authorised to chant "Mumbai is safe for women".
(5) Political parties Shiv Sena and Maharashtra Navnirman Sena will be issuing their own code of conducts, but these will apply to Maharashtrian women only (by birth, preferably not by marriage). Catholic women are free to approach the church. Similarly, we recommend that if you are a woman (defined as non-men), you should contact your nearest political party or religious body for further advice on safety, protection and salvation.
(6) The first 100 reported cases of molestation (starting from night of 31st Dec) in Mumbai will go scot free because these things happen in societies. We do not make mountains of molehills.
(7) The above declaration applies to all days and nights of a calendar year, except New Year's Eve.
Signed,
Those responsible for Mumbai
We invite public comments and opinion for above policy.
Wishing everyone, especially Mumbai's girls, ladies and women, a very safe and happy New Year 2008.
Monday, September 17, 2007
One September sky
Or just another scene from the city. Just one this time.
I think Bombay reveals itself in these brief glimpses. You have to see it to know it. And they're always around. Like this one.
Around 6.30pm. You know, the time when nowadays, the clouds and the sun and the sky seem to come together in a riot of colors. September skies. I'm not kidding you. Check out the skies during sunset in September and they will be different than other months. The kinda skies that make you want to halt everything and marvel at the beauty that one sunset can be. Like an entire ritual on its own.
But this is Bombay. Life zooms you by.
So, I was halted at a signal, on Marine Drive. And I see this young lad cross the road before me. Shirt out, something held in his left hand. He bends and with his right hand reaches for the footpath. Gently touches it, then touches his hand to his forehead, his lips and his heart.
He strides forward on to the footpath and in a single movement his left hand unfurls and out comes one of those lighted yo-yos. The kind kids like (or do they any more?), the kind that make a line of light when you flip, toss and pull it. You know the kind you see people selling on Juhu, Chowpatty. On Marine Drive.
That's it.
He's selling these yo-yos. Or whatever they're called in Bambaiya.
That's him. Beginning his working day at 6.30pm on Marine Drive. A place he regards as his source of income. Something holy. He seeks blessings from it, says a quick prayer before beginning his day. You know, maathe pe lagaa ke.
Quite like the broker entering the stock market. Everyday. They do the same thing. Before they climb the stairs, they first touch the ground to their forehead and then begin their working day. Or the coolie at Dadar platform. Or...well, this is Bombay, I'm sure you've seen them. Business is religion. This is Bombay.
And Bombay treats its people the same.
That traffic signal where I saw this lad, had share-a-cabs and buses loaded with people returning from Nariman Point to Churchgate. And it had loads of cars with people. All going back after a day's work in the city. Earning a living. All of us in the same journey.
Just like this one lad, whose day would probably end at midnight.
All of us are one in our pursuit in the city. That fresh, clean-shaven, suited, booted lad who walks out of Bombay Airport, armed with his degrees and an acceptance letter for a high-paying job at foreign bank. He might not touch the ground and then his forehead when he walks off the airport. But he's in the city for the same reason as the lad above. I see both of them as one.
Just as I see the wealthy seth and the top-ranking CEO. All of them, they're the same as this guy selling these yo-yos. Or whatever he calls them. We're all the same, aren't we? In the pursuit of wealth, happiness, sadness, money...or whatever you call them.
Yes, Bombay is lived in these flashes. In these moments. Did you catch one?
I think Bombay reveals itself in these brief glimpses. You have to see it to know it. And they're always around. Like this one.
Around 6.30pm. You know, the time when nowadays, the clouds and the sun and the sky seem to come together in a riot of colors. September skies. I'm not kidding you. Check out the skies during sunset in September and they will be different than other months. The kinda skies that make you want to halt everything and marvel at the beauty that one sunset can be. Like an entire ritual on its own.
But this is Bombay. Life zooms you by.
So, I was halted at a signal, on Marine Drive. And I see this young lad cross the road before me. Shirt out, something held in his left hand. He bends and with his right hand reaches for the footpath. Gently touches it, then touches his hand to his forehead, his lips and his heart.
He strides forward on to the footpath and in a single movement his left hand unfurls and out comes one of those lighted yo-yos. The kind kids like (or do they any more?), the kind that make a line of light when you flip, toss and pull it. You know the kind you see people selling on Juhu, Chowpatty. On Marine Drive.
That's it.
He's selling these yo-yos. Or whatever they're called in Bambaiya.
That's him. Beginning his working day at 6.30pm on Marine Drive. A place he regards as his source of income. Something holy. He seeks blessings from it, says a quick prayer before beginning his day. You know, maathe pe lagaa ke.
Quite like the broker entering the stock market. Everyday. They do the same thing. Before they climb the stairs, they first touch the ground to their forehead and then begin their working day. Or the coolie at Dadar platform. Or...well, this is Bombay, I'm sure you've seen them. Business is religion. This is Bombay.
And Bombay treats its people the same.
That traffic signal where I saw this lad, had share-a-cabs and buses loaded with people returning from Nariman Point to Churchgate. And it had loads of cars with people. All going back after a day's work in the city. Earning a living. All of us in the same journey.
Just like this one lad, whose day would probably end at midnight.
All of us are one in our pursuit in the city. That fresh, clean-shaven, suited, booted lad who walks out of Bombay Airport, armed with his degrees and an acceptance letter for a high-paying job at foreign bank. He might not touch the ground and then his forehead when he walks off the airport. But he's in the city for the same reason as the lad above. I see both of them as one.
Just as I see the wealthy seth and the top-ranking CEO. All of them, they're the same as this guy selling these yo-yos. Or whatever he calls them. We're all the same, aren't we? In the pursuit of wealth, happiness, sadness, money...or whatever you call them.
Yes, Bombay is lived in these flashes. In these moments. Did you catch one?
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Heard at a pub
Scene: Hard Rock Cafe, Lower Parel Mumbai, 7.15pm. The place is understandably empty, 'cept for a bored group of Phoenix/Kamla/Raghuvanshi/Mills exec-types who were told that Boney M was performing live that night (not..dude).
With half hour to kill, yours truly enters this hoo-ha joint for the first time, that one kind gent I know said he would give his temporal lobe for (oh I kid him, but he does lurve the place with a Dharmendra-esque passion).
Int. Me, trying to get attention of waiters.
Waiter 1 - demonstrating various aasanas for nose-digging while tilted near the cash counter
Waiter 2 - staring vacantly in no particular direction
Waiter 3, 4, 5 and 6 - In unison break loudly into "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" (oh ok, it was some Lynyrd Skynyrd song). I was told this is the style.
Waiter 7 - occupied with above said group of P/K/R m.execs
Pretty young types at the door - discussing shades of Maybelline
After much gesticulations on my part....
Waiter 8 - "Yes sir"
Me - "A Budweiser please"
(with bored look) "We don't have Budweiser"
"Ok, Heineken"
(with testy look) "We don't have Heineken"
(with 'huh' look) "Huh?"
"Sir, we don't keep Budweiser or Heineken"
"Ok, what have you got?"
(with where-do-these-guys-come-from-look) "Fosters and Corona"
"Fosters then"
Said sequence till Waiter 8 repeats all over again when I ask for the bill.
Bill is paid, sans tip. Thanks very much.
Quick notes to self -
1. Big brand doesn't mean anything
2. "Hard Rock" as a music genre can be interpreted to include only flop rock songs of the past and played-to-death rock anthems
3. The audience of 35-45yr old execs is an important one. They are rich and more importantly, they can be serviced solely with an iPod shuffle on a constant loop of 10 songs (so no DJ required)
4. Above said iPod loop should include "Brown Girl in the rain", "Rasputin", "Smoke on the water" and end up by giving these young-at-heart lads the chance to sing "whoa oh oh oh oh Sweet child o' mine, whoa oh oh oooohh sweet love of mine" while inebriatedly leaving the bar.
Oh yes, I'm not going there again.
For a saner, rant-free view, please read earlier posts by Sakshi here and Rashmi here.
With half hour to kill, yours truly enters this hoo-ha joint for the first time, that one kind gent I know said he would give his temporal lobe for (oh I kid him, but he does lurve the place with a Dharmendra-esque passion).
Int. Me, trying to get attention of waiters.
Waiter 1 - demonstrating various aasanas for nose-digging while tilted near the cash counter
Waiter 2 - staring vacantly in no particular direction
Waiter 3, 4, 5 and 6 - In unison break loudly into "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" (oh ok, it was some Lynyrd Skynyrd song). I was told this is the style.
Waiter 7 - occupied with above said group of P/K/R m.execs
Pretty young types at the door - discussing shades of Maybelline
After much gesticulations on my part....
Waiter 8 - "Yes sir"
Me - "A Budweiser please"
(with bored look) "We don't have Budweiser"
"Ok, Heineken"
(with testy look) "We don't have Heineken"
(with 'huh' look) "Huh?"
"Sir, we don't keep Budweiser or Heineken"
"Ok, what have you got?"
(with where-do-these-guys-come-from-look) "Fosters and Corona"
"Fosters then"
Said sequence till Waiter 8 repeats all over again when I ask for the bill.
Bill is paid, sans tip. Thanks very much.
Quick notes to self -
1. Big brand doesn't mean anything
2. "Hard Rock" as a music genre can be interpreted to include only flop rock songs of the past and played-to-death rock anthems
3. The audience of 35-45yr old execs is an important one. They are rich and more importantly, they can be serviced solely with an iPod shuffle on a constant loop of 10 songs (so no DJ required)
4. Above said iPod loop should include "Brown Girl in the rain", "Rasputin", "Smoke on the water" and end up by giving these young-at-heart lads the chance to sing "whoa oh oh oh oh Sweet child o' mine, whoa oh oh oooohh sweet love of mine" while inebriatedly leaving the bar.
Oh yes, I'm not going there again.
For a saner, rant-free view, please read earlier posts by Sakshi here and Rashmi here.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Heard at the airport
Scene, today noon at the airport exit.
So, this guy selling those India maps is doing his thing. Approaches two young, American tourist lads waiting for their hotel car to pick them up.
"Sir, map sir, you want map sir?"
"Dude, I'm not even from India"
"Sir, map sir, you want map of India sir?"
"You heard of America man?"
"Sir America sir, yes I know America sir"
"Yeah? Well, you know who I am? I'm George Bush"
"Sir, if you are George Bush, sir, I am Bill Clinton sir"
Tourist lads jaws drop while map guy walks away, game, set and match.
So, this guy selling those India maps is doing his thing. Approaches two young, American tourist lads waiting for their hotel car to pick them up.
"Sir, map sir, you want map sir?"
"Dude, I'm not even from India"
"Sir, map sir, you want map of India sir?"
"You heard of America man?"
"Sir America sir, yes I know America sir"
"Yeah? Well, you know who I am? I'm George Bush"
"Sir, if you are George Bush, sir, I am Bill Clinton sir"
Tourist lads jaws drop while map guy walks away, game, set and match.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Some clarifications
Somewhere on this blog, if I've given the impression that "I love Bombay" or its "never-say-die" attitude or that I praise the "spirit of the city", I think its a good time to clarify. It says "Bombay Addict" not "Bombay Lover" or "Bombay Deewaana".
"Love"? There are things I really love about the city and things I don't. But, whole-hearted, undying, to-die-for, unconditional kinda love? I'm not sure about that. Can I stay somewhere else? If I have to. In fact, I'd prefer some place where I can afford a house. Will I miss Bombay? Sure I will. I'll miss its places and its people.
"Never say die" attitude? Um. See, Bombay is about money. Nothing else. Its not World War 1 or 2 or 3 happening on a daily basis. Out here, time is money. You want yours. Everyone else wants theirs. The colour of money that a cabbie makes is the same as that of what an industrialist makes. Does that make them "heroes" or "survivors"? I'm not sure. They found their ways. We have to find ours.
"Spirit of the city"? Bumper sticker and nothing more. Humanity on any other day, that over the years got romanticised, got garbled and took the shape of a tag-line, a by-word to be used on every show and in every column when things go wrong.
See, here's the deal. I like all the cities I've visited. I blogged about Delhi. I've wanted to but never have blogged about Chennai and Bangalore. Both wonderful cities in their own ways. I've only been abroad all of four times. Twice to Hong Kong and once each to Colombo and Dubai. Never to Shanghai, New York, Tokyo, London, Singapore, etc. When, or if, I can, I'd love to do scenes from all these cities.
I'm sure there are enough people who came flat broke to the shores of each of those cities, and made it in life. They will tell you a tale if you wish to hear it. I'm sure they all like whats good in the city and hate whats bad.
I don't know what makes Bombay "better" or "worse" than these cities. Its all going to boil down to who you are and what you want. Out here in Bombay, we are all people on the same train/bus/car/rick/taxi going to the same stop/station/destination. Earning a living and living our lives. I don't know how that makes us better - or worse - than other travelers in other cities in India and the world.
PS - If you lived in or visited any of the cities above - or any city anywhere - I'd love to hear your views. Thanks in advance.
PPS - I just have to recap these words. They say more about this city than anyone else I've heard in recent times.
"Love"? There are things I really love about the city and things I don't. But, whole-hearted, undying, to-die-for, unconditional kinda love? I'm not sure about that. Can I stay somewhere else? If I have to. In fact, I'd prefer some place where I can afford a house. Will I miss Bombay? Sure I will. I'll miss its places and its people.
"Never say die" attitude? Um. See, Bombay is about money. Nothing else. Its not World War 1 or 2 or 3 happening on a daily basis. Out here, time is money. You want yours. Everyone else wants theirs. The colour of money that a cabbie makes is the same as that of what an industrialist makes. Does that make them "heroes" or "survivors"? I'm not sure. They found their ways. We have to find ours.
"Spirit of the city"? Bumper sticker and nothing more. Humanity on any other day, that over the years got romanticised, got garbled and took the shape of a tag-line, a by-word to be used on every show and in every column when things go wrong.
See, here's the deal. I like all the cities I've visited. I blogged about Delhi. I've wanted to but never have blogged about Chennai and Bangalore. Both wonderful cities in their own ways. I've only been abroad all of four times. Twice to Hong Kong and once each to Colombo and Dubai. Never to Shanghai, New York, Tokyo, London, Singapore, etc. When, or if, I can, I'd love to do scenes from all these cities.
I'm sure there are enough people who came flat broke to the shores of each of those cities, and made it in life. They will tell you a tale if you wish to hear it. I'm sure they all like whats good in the city and hate whats bad.
I don't know what makes Bombay "better" or "worse" than these cities. Its all going to boil down to who you are and what you want. Out here in Bombay, we are all people on the same train/bus/car/rick/taxi going to the same stop/station/destination. Earning a living and living our lives. I don't know how that makes us better - or worse - than other travelers in other cities in India and the world.
PS - If you lived in or visited any of the cities above - or any city anywhere - I'd love to hear your views. Thanks in advance.
PPS - I just have to recap these words. They say more about this city than anyone else I've heard in recent times.
Utar Jaaye Ragon Mein Jo Toh Yeh Nasha Hai
Iski Aadat Jo Pad Gayi Toh Yeh Saza Hai
Aise Bhar De Ke Khaali Kar De
Sunday, August 19, 2007
More scenes from a city
Another trip back home, more sights, more thoughts. The city's the same.
For once, I leave when the sun's almost melting into the sea. Not after.
And a sunset at Marine Drive? Yes. That's what gets them there, doesn't it? Nothing like the sun and the clouds in frenzied colours. Grey, black, hint of white here, blue there. Oh and Marine Drive is being done up nowadays. Looking all swanky. Hong Kong, Shanghai, Singapore. Everything but. Bombay is only Bombay. Forever.
So there's the sheng-chana wala. There's the kids from Jaihind, Sydenham, KC, HR. Man, I used to come here on weekends with my friends all the way from Bandra. You know - lets go to town for a drive. Check out the babes, the townie crowd. Sheesh. I still come here. Everyday now. For work this time.
For once, I leave when the sun's almost melting into the sea. Not after.
And a sunset at Marine Drive? Yes. That's what gets them there, doesn't it? Nothing like the sun and the clouds in frenzied colours. Grey, black, hint of white here, blue there. Oh and Marine Drive is being done up nowadays. Looking all swanky. Hong Kong, Shanghai, Singapore. Everything but. Bombay is only Bombay. Forever.
So there's the sheng-chana wala. There's the kids from Jaihind, Sydenham, KC, HR. Man, I used to come here on weekends with my friends all the way from Bandra. You know - lets go to town for a drive. Check out the babes, the townie crowd. Sheesh. I still come here. Everyday now. For work this time.
So, there's the kids. Then there's the posh variety. Young, old. Walking their dogs, brisk walking in their track pants, furiously, staring and glaring at anyone in their way. Evening walks and all. Man..where do they get all that time?
And then the couples. Endless pairs of couples. Arms around each other, intertwined. Sweet nothings all over. Coming back from work, going back home. Meeting up at Churchgate, going to Marine Drive. Catch the sunset. Spend time together till we get married. Or don't. So why'd you come home late? You know, work, it piles up.
There's also the singles. The men. Some staring vacantly into the sea. Unemployed, employed, lost-my-job-today, came-here-to-look-for-a-job. You know, nowadays they want someone who can talk English well, these private companies.
"I don't know if I can make it here. But hey, I'm enjoying myself before I leave tomorrow. I've seen Marine Drive in so many movies. When I go back and tell them I was here, they'll be impressed. They won't care if I didn't get a job. Wish I could take a photo. But tell me, uncle, how come they're no photographers here? there's so many of them at the Gateway of India."
Man, I feel so old sometimes.
Babulnath is really jammed these days. What is it with this Shravan fasting and the daily crowd at the temple? Hah. I remember what this Gujju friend told me about his brethren. Saale. Dikhaane ke liye vegetarian, Jain, no kaanda, no meat, no chicken. Saale. Then check 'em out in the night - having tangdi at Bade Miyaa and heading out to Topaz. Sab saale aisi-ich hai. I never met anyone who fit that profile. Yet I don't know why I keep remembering that story once in a while when I pass Babulnath. Funny.
Cadbury. Mahalakshmi. Traffic cops. That one looks new. Smart guy. Young. Crisp shirt, topi ekdum straight. Takes his job seriously. Maybe he'll stop that guy in that Skoda talking on his cell, while driving. Maybe he wont.
And the street kids. I think Bombay belongs to the street kids. I remember going to the Kala Ghoda Festival coupla years back to see a Terence Lewis dance show. So, once its over, they're packing up. There's still some chairs and tables lying around. You know, for the VIPs and all.
So, everyone's clearing the table, but somewhere some music is still playing. And there's this raggedy girl. Torn and dirty frock, frayed hair. Her family's begging somewhere around. But she slowly climbs on top of this white plastic table. No one's around her and the music's still playing. And she's swaying to the music. Unaware, unconcerned, blissful in that moment of nothingness and joy to some song. Her ma finally lands up from somewhere, drags her back with her. Oh thats ok with this kid. She goes off all smiles. That moment was hers.
Worli. Bus stops. Lots of them. And the people waiting for the buses. I don't know what it is about the journey home after a long day at work (are there any other types these days?). Its just special. Leaving for home to the people you love? Nothing like it. Makes the day worthwhile. Makes that boss a bit bearable. Even if he's the only thing on your mind at that time.
I see the people waiting there. You know, leaning against the bus stop. Looking out for the 83, or if you're lucky you might get an empty 84. If only they had more AC buses. The people at the bus stop. Some of them plugged into the radio on their phones. Some talking. That hurried smile. Two words on the phone, "attaach neeghaali", before the bus thunders in. Or a hurried one-word text - "left". Or a quickly wiped tear there, wonder what she was feeling sad about. She looked cute. What kinda guy....
Then Mahim. But you've been there. You've seen them, hunched up and bunched up. Waiting..hoping?...for food. They don't go away. They don't. This is Bombay.
And before I know it, I'm finally somewhere home. That familiar Bandra junction. That chaos at China Gate restaurant which is now an entire building. The traffic jam. Valet parking. Narrow, two-way lane. Chaos. All for food. Everyone lining up to get in. Minimum half an hour waiting. And they line up. Not hunched up but a bit bunched up. They don't go away. They don't. This is Bombay.
It gets tiring once in a while. This 20km trip I'm doing everyday. But its a journey home. Nothing like it.
Or the city. And its places and its people. Nothing like them. The city. If it won't kill you, it will probably make you harder. And run faster. And fall here and there.
This city I tell you.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Songs stuck
...in my head. Both from Jhoom Barabar Jhoom (oh Shaad Ali, don't you dare disappoint..after Bunty Babli and Saathiya, don't you dare disappoint)
1. "Jhoom Barabar, Jhoom Barabar, Jhoom Barabar Jhoooooooom, Jhoom Barabar, Jhoom Barabar, Jhoom Barabar Jhoooooooom"
Out damned song, out. No, ok, it's a pretty decent song. Not blockbuster material, but very, very catchy. They (Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy..talking of which, don't you all disappoint either) seem to have combined quite a few nice instruments to make a very catchy number. Somehow it could've sounded better, but I'm just nit-picking. Jhooooooooom. Rabaa.
2. "Ticket to Hollywood, ticket to Hollywood"
Does the guy say "chaniya choli" after that?. And just what is "No no Moo-see-air, no no itna simple nahin.." Moo-see-air? Moo-see-air? Moo what? Duh? Ah..Monsieur. Hilarious. As long as its Preity who's saying that, I'm cool. If Lara can pull that off, bully for her.
My line from the trailer of the movie? Abhishek blurting out to Preity something which goes something like "To tum log ka sex ho gaya?"
The story is here, but I am not going to read it.
Oh, Shaad Ali, don't you dare disappoint.
1. "Jhoom Barabar, Jhoom Barabar, Jhoom Barabar Jhoooooooom, Jhoom Barabar, Jhoom Barabar, Jhoom Barabar Jhoooooooom"
Out damned song, out. No, ok, it's a pretty decent song. Not blockbuster material, but very, very catchy. They (Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy..talking of which, don't you all disappoint either) seem to have combined quite a few nice instruments to make a very catchy number. Somehow it could've sounded better, but I'm just nit-picking. Jhooooooooom. Rabaa.
2. "Ticket to Hollywood, ticket to Hollywood"
Does the guy say "chaniya choli" after that?. And just what is "No no Moo-see-air, no no itna simple nahin.." Moo-see-air? Moo-see-air? Moo what? Duh? Ah..Monsieur. Hilarious. As long as its Preity who's saying that, I'm cool. If Lara can pull that off, bully for her.
My line from the trailer of the movie? Abhishek blurting out to Preity something which goes something like "To tum log ka sex ho gaya?"
The story is here, but I am not going to read it.
Oh, Shaad Ali, don't you dare disappoint.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Scenes from a city
The thing I love about Bombay is the space I get to think. Not that I need any space to think, except mind space. But still.
What works for me is the journey from home to office and back. Sure, traffic is torture, but what’s new?
I get some two hours to myself. I get two hours with the city. From Nariman Point to Bandra – that’s about 20kms. A journey that takes half-an-hour in the morning (I reach early) and about an hour-and-a-half in the evening/night.
Always a good time to think. And man, I’ve had stuff to think about. Loads and loads and truck loads of stuff. I hope to share what it's all about sometime.
But till then, here are some of my random thoughts and observations while I’m driving on my way home.
Nariman Point: Horse rides, merry-go-rounds, little scooters, bikes and various other paraphernalia. Yes, this is Nariman Point. After 8pm on weekdays and throughout weekend evenings, this place goes mad. It’s like a fair. The first time I saw it, I couldn’t believe it. I mean, all this in the middle of Bombay’s business district? Looks straight out of Juhu Beach.
So, I’m guessing that this crowd is from Colaba, Cuffe Parade, etc. You know, South Bombay yuppies and pappas and mummys, taking bacha party out for a ride in the only place available there. There’s a nice economy running there on its own. Including food, etc. etc. All they need is a park…which I think is also coming up nearby. Maja ni life.
Marine Drive: On the radio…
If only the 3-man band “Metro” had given this bearded dude more songs, because the other two (thin dude and angry dude) were very ordinary. (also read update below)
I love this song. Turn up the volume. Turn it up before they play something else. In dino, dil mera, mujhse hai keh raha…..oh yes.
I like Fever 104FM. I switched over to them (from Radio One) quite some time back. They have these RJs in the evening who go …“Hum hein aapke Drive Time Gangsters Divya aur Rohini”. One calls herself Uptown Girl and the other is…I can’t remember..but I don’t think it was Highway Star.
Marine Drive will always remind me of Sailu. Wonder where he is.
Chowpatty: This guy at office had once asked me why’s there a crowd outside Cream Centre every evening. I told him it’s because they sell leftovers at an 80% discount. So that big crowd you see, they're all waiting to get in.
And the crowd goes mad on the weekends. Those Cream Centre guys literally throw out food in the air, like people feed pigeons at Marine Drive. And all those well-dressed people, waiting outside for (almost) free food..they go at it like mad. You know, this is Bombay. He believed me. But then he’s not from Bombay.
Babulnath: Is Banganga somewhere near by? I just have to go there. (And also to these places that that indefatigable true blue Bombay Boy – Abodh – recommends.)
Vama Flyover: There’s this "HELP" sign at some Kemps Corner building that you can spot while passing over this flyover. Big bold letters in black. Someone once told me that people got spooked by this. You know, are there kidnapped kids trapped inside, crying out for HELP? But that’s not the case. It’s, in fact, a health library (not sure if its this). I tell you, this city…
Mahalakshmi junction: Street kid selling assorted books knocks on my window. I wave him off. "Nahi chahiye boss". He goes “Worli Naka, sir, Worli Naka?”. He wants a lift. Hop in kid, aaja meri gaadi mein baith ja. He tells me of a time when a driver in a Merc gave him a lift over the same distance. I tell you, this city…
Scene below Vama flyover: Yuppie in his Honda City parked below a 'No-parking sign' blissfully chatting away on his cell, in his car. Oh, he’s not breaking the law. Law says you can’t talk while driving. Law doesn’t say you can’t talk while you’re parked under a 'No-parking sign'. So it’s cool, dude, chat away. So what if the rest of the city’s honking behind you?
Oh, and those blinking indicator lights on your car? You know, those that go off together when you press that red triangle on your dash? See, those lights don't mean “Do not disturb, I'm on a call”. They mean "Help, help, I need help". Please remember that. Who knows..the next time I see you yakking on your cell in your car with those lights on, I might be tempted to break your window and rescue you.
Haji Ali Juice Centre: This place..with all the cabs parked outside, some with those green tube lights inside...reminds me of a superb scene in Maximum City – the one where a goon takes out a dance bar girl and they meet here. He tells the cab driver to take a walk, releases love-birds in the cab, and both of them try to catch these birds…which is how he gets to touch her for the first time. If I remember right, the book said that most of these birds also die in the car.
Worli Sea Face: Have they really sold that dairy there? Will a five star hotel really come up in its place?
Shivaji Park: Man…when will they finish making whatever they’re making out there? I mean, its dug up for ages. Come on.
Mahim: Parking lot. Bottleneck. Shut down the engine, chill out. Pull those windows down. Catch a glimpse of the dargah to your left. It comes after a small temple you just passed by on your right. Mandir, masjid, one road. I think a sequence in "Maqbool" was shot at this dargah.
To your left, chances are you won’t miss those small hotels. With hordes of people bunched up, sitting on their haunches…waiting. Some have empty looks on their faces, some are hopeful. All of them wait for a car that stops and hands out a Rs50/100/500/1,000 note to the hotel. Depending on what the seth (or his driver) of the car gives, that’s their dinner. At least for the lucky ones who get waved inside. Till a hand suddenly stops those left behind, from going ahead. Because, Rs100 only covers 10 people. The others will have to wait. For the next car to stop. For some guy who’d asked mannat at the dargah, or at Mahim Church…or in his heart…and is now fulfilling it by feeding the hungry. Some of those passing by in their cars look at this wretched lot and curse under their breath “saale…muft ka khaate hain”.
Bandra: Home. Finally.
Another day in paradise. Another day in the city.
This city, I tell you...
*****
Update: Via e-mail from Amit Varma: "In Dino...was only picturised on Preetam in the film (the bearded guy). It was actually sung by Soham, who didn't appear in the film at all, but did in the promotional video." Thanks very much for that Amit.
What works for me is the journey from home to office and back. Sure, traffic is torture, but what’s new?
I get some two hours to myself. I get two hours with the city. From Nariman Point to Bandra – that’s about 20kms. A journey that takes half-an-hour in the morning (I reach early) and about an hour-and-a-half in the evening/night.
Always a good time to think. And man, I’ve had stuff to think about. Loads and loads and truck loads of stuff. I hope to share what it's all about sometime.
But till then, here are some of my random thoughts and observations while I’m driving on my way home.
Nariman Point: Horse rides, merry-go-rounds, little scooters, bikes and various other paraphernalia. Yes, this is Nariman Point. After 8pm on weekdays and throughout weekend evenings, this place goes mad. It’s like a fair. The first time I saw it, I couldn’t believe it. I mean, all this in the middle of Bombay’s business district? Looks straight out of Juhu Beach.
So, I’m guessing that this crowd is from Colaba, Cuffe Parade, etc. You know, South Bombay yuppies and pappas and mummys, taking bacha party out for a ride in the only place available there. There’s a nice economy running there on its own. Including food, etc. etc. All they need is a park…which I think is also coming up nearby. Maja ni life.
Marine Drive: On the radio…
in dino, dil mera, mujhse hai keh raha…I just love that song. That’s the only thing I liked in “Life in Metro” (that and perhaps Irrfan Khan and the ethereal Kangana Ranaut). Lovely song.
tu khaab saja, tu ji le jara…
hai tujhe bhi izaazat, karle tu bhi muhabbat
If only the 3-man band “Metro” had given this bearded dude more songs, because the other two (thin dude and angry dude) were very ordinary. (also read update below)
I love this song. Turn up the volume. Turn it up before they play something else. In dino, dil mera, mujhse hai keh raha…..oh yes.
I like Fever 104FM. I switched over to them (from Radio One) quite some time back. They have these RJs in the evening who go …“Hum hein aapke Drive Time Gangsters Divya aur Rohini”. One calls herself Uptown Girl and the other is…I can’t remember..but I don’t think it was Highway Star.
Marine Drive will always remind me of Sailu. Wonder where he is.
Chowpatty: This guy at office had once asked me why’s there a crowd outside Cream Centre every evening. I told him it’s because they sell leftovers at an 80% discount. So that big crowd you see, they're all waiting to get in.
And the crowd goes mad on the weekends. Those Cream Centre guys literally throw out food in the air, like people feed pigeons at Marine Drive. And all those well-dressed people, waiting outside for (almost) free food..they go at it like mad. You know, this is Bombay. He believed me. But then he’s not from Bombay.
Babulnath: Is Banganga somewhere near by? I just have to go there. (And also to these places that that indefatigable true blue Bombay Boy – Abodh – recommends.)
Vama Flyover: There’s this "HELP" sign at some Kemps Corner building that you can spot while passing over this flyover. Big bold letters in black. Someone once told me that people got spooked by this. You know, are there kidnapped kids trapped inside, crying out for HELP? But that’s not the case. It’s, in fact, a health library (not sure if its this). I tell you, this city…
Mahalakshmi junction: Street kid selling assorted books knocks on my window. I wave him off. "Nahi chahiye boss". He goes “Worli Naka, sir, Worli Naka?”. He wants a lift. Hop in kid, aaja meri gaadi mein baith ja. He tells me of a time when a driver in a Merc gave him a lift over the same distance. I tell you, this city…
Scene below Vama flyover: Yuppie in his Honda City parked below a 'No-parking sign' blissfully chatting away on his cell, in his car. Oh, he’s not breaking the law. Law says you can’t talk while driving. Law doesn’t say you can’t talk while you’re parked under a 'No-parking sign'. So it’s cool, dude, chat away. So what if the rest of the city’s honking behind you?
Oh, and those blinking indicator lights on your car? You know, those that go off together when you press that red triangle on your dash? See, those lights don't mean “Do not disturb, I'm on a call”. They mean "Help, help, I need help". Please remember that. Who knows..the next time I see you yakking on your cell in your car with those lights on, I might be tempted to break your window and rescue you.
Haji Ali Juice Centre: This place..with all the cabs parked outside, some with those green tube lights inside...reminds me of a superb scene in Maximum City – the one where a goon takes out a dance bar girl and they meet here. He tells the cab driver to take a walk, releases love-birds in the cab, and both of them try to catch these birds…which is how he gets to touch her for the first time. If I remember right, the book said that most of these birds also die in the car.
Worli Sea Face: Have they really sold that dairy there? Will a five star hotel really come up in its place?
Shivaji Park: Man…when will they finish making whatever they’re making out there? I mean, its dug up for ages. Come on.
Mahim: Parking lot. Bottleneck. Shut down the engine, chill out. Pull those windows down. Catch a glimpse of the dargah to your left. It comes after a small temple you just passed by on your right. Mandir, masjid, one road. I think a sequence in "Maqbool" was shot at this dargah.
To your left, chances are you won’t miss those small hotels. With hordes of people bunched up, sitting on their haunches…waiting. Some have empty looks on their faces, some are hopeful. All of them wait for a car that stops and hands out a Rs50/100/500/1,000 note to the hotel. Depending on what the seth (or his driver) of the car gives, that’s their dinner. At least for the lucky ones who get waved inside. Till a hand suddenly stops those left behind, from going ahead. Because, Rs100 only covers 10 people. The others will have to wait. For the next car to stop. For some guy who’d asked mannat at the dargah, or at Mahim Church…or in his heart…and is now fulfilling it by feeding the hungry. Some of those passing by in their cars look at this wretched lot and curse under their breath “saale…muft ka khaate hain”.
Bandra: Home. Finally.
Another day in paradise. Another day in the city.
This city, I tell you...
*****
Update: Via e-mail from Amit Varma: "In Dino...was only picturised on Preetam in the film (the bearded guy). It was actually sung by Soham, who didn't appear in the film at all, but did in the promotional video." Thanks very much for that Amit.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
On Bambai Nagariya
Laakh Roz Aake Bas Jaate Hai(lyrics from the song “Bambai Nagariya” sung by Bappi Lahiri in the movie Taxi No. 9211)
Iss Sheher Se Is Dil Laga Ke Phas Jaate Hai
Sone Ki Raahon Mein Soone Ko Jagah Nahi
Shola Hai Ya Hai Bijuriya Dil Ki Bajariya Bambai Nagariya
Utar Jaaye Ragon Mein Jo Toh Teh Nasha Hai
Iski Aadat Jo Pad Gayi Toh Yeh Saza Hai
Aise Bhar De Ke Khaali Kar De
I said it then and I say it now. I’m addicted to this mad city.
The thought for this post came when I was watching Taxi No. 9211 for the x-th time on TV. What a super Bombay movie. Besides a lovely soundtrack, I really liked the way the characters were etched, the performances, and of course Bombay in the movie.
Taxi No. 9211 also takes me back to this comment by the good Filmiholic,
One other thing.... have you noticed the central role that the city itself plays in some recent Hindi movies? Bluffmaster, Taxi No 9211, Sarkar, just to name a few.That comment led to the “Reel life Bombay” series, where Filmiholic and Punds were kind enough to guest. That was one of the most fun series I’ve had on this blog.
In the "Making Of" segment on the DVD of Bluffmaster, Rohan Sippy said that they saw Bombay as another character in the movie.
But, coming back to Bombay, love and addiction…
See, I'm addicted to Bombay. Which is a bit different from loving Bombay, because loving Bombay can get a bit dicey. I mean, sample these oft-read, oft-heard p.o.v.s -
The outraged view – how dare you say this about a city where a woman can go home at three in the night and be assured that she’d reach home safe? a city whose cab and rickshaw drivers are so honest? a city that is so efficient and quick? with such a vibrant night-life?
Or, the are-you-a-dimwit defense - how you can love a city where traffic is so miserable, politicians are corrupt, real estate end rentals are a joke, infrastructure collapsing everyday.
Or, the “Hi-I’m-from-Fortune” move – Bombay is a city of contradictions. Skyscrapers brush shoulders with slums. Mercedes engines talk with bullock-carts. Cows walk along-side Chihuahuas.
And finally, the I-will-always-love-you gambit – oh, I’d die for a vada-pav on a rain-soaked evening at Marine Drive. Or have bhel on Chowpatty with the waves touching my feet. The hazaar, yummy, road-side food joints.
Here’s the thing. Bombay is all of that and then some. But then you already knew that.
Is that enough to declare undying love - or for that matter disgust - for this city? I don't know.
And is there a truth about Bombay? I don't think so.
So, for the record, I’ll say it again. This city is a drug and I’m an addict.
Utar Jaaye Ragon Mein Jo Toh Teh Nasha Hai
Iski Aadat Jo Pad Gayi Toh Yeh Saza Hai
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Reel life Bombay. Part 6
Punds wraps up the series with his write-up on Basu-da's "Piya ka ghar". Basuda was among the few directors who could portray middle class Bombay in a way that the audience could connect with.
Over to Punds, for his take on "Piya ka ghar", in his usual inimitable style.
Piya ka ghar (1972): My idea about Mumbai in the movies was not about showing heroes dancing on the road of Mumbai but showing the "never say die" spirit of Mumbai in the movie. Before Sai Paranjpe's "Katha", Basu Chatterjee "Piya ka ghar" in 1972 tried to capture the life of the common Mumbai folks. The movie told the story of Mumbai that every Mumbaikar would identify with.
Mumbai is big and I mean really big but still space always has been the biggest problem. A city where the middle class lived in a 10 x 10 feet house, privacy was literally non-existent. "Piya ka ghar" explores this very issue of privacy. While "Katha" explored the chawl life, PKG explored the problems of a family living in a chawl.
Jaya Bhaduri plays a village gal Malti, who lives in a big house in her native village. She gets married to Anil Dhawan, Ram, coming from a good family in Bombay only to find out the whole family lives in a small house further divided into smaller cubicles to accommodate everybody. The kitchen of the house becomes the bedroom of the newly-wed.
Malti finds it difficult to adjust to the reduced space but surprisingly finds the rest of the family members living a happy existence. The efforts of the couple to find privacy, intimacy and love in that cramped space forms the rest of the story.
Its been a long time since I have seen the movie but I always remember the one character in the movie. I don't know the name of the actress but she plays Anil Dhawan's sister-in-law. She is the ever smiling woman who teases, makes fun and at the same time supports the newly-wed. Married to Ram's brother for a long time she had made the small house her home with ease and still keeps the romance alive with her husband stealing intimate moments with him.
She represents the true spirit of Mumbai. Sure we have problems and sure life is not easy but we learn to smile in troubles and we try to be happy.
The song of the movie summaries every thing about Mumbai -
Yeh Jeevan Hai, Is Jeevan Ka
Yahi Hai - Yahi Hai - Yahi Hai Rungroop
Thode Ghum Hain, Thodi Khushiyan
Yahi Hai - Yahi Hai - Yahi Hai Chaon Dhoop
Recap - Reel Life Bombay was a free-wheeling series on Bombay in movies and life in Bombay, as seen by my guest writers (Filmiholic, Macushla and Punds) and myself. Here are the earlier posts
Part 1 - Filmiholic on "Salaam Bombay"
Part 2 - My take on "Satya"
Part 3 - Macushla on "Main Madhuri Dixit banna chahti hoon"
Part 4 - Punds on "Katha"
Part 5 - Macushla on "Bhoot"
Over to Punds, for his take on "Piya ka ghar", in his usual inimitable style.
Piya ka ghar (1972): My idea about Mumbai in the movies was not about showing heroes dancing on the road of Mumbai but showing the "never say die" spirit of Mumbai in the movie. Before Sai Paranjpe's "Katha", Basu Chatterjee "Piya ka ghar" in 1972 tried to capture the life of the common Mumbai folks. The movie told the story of Mumbai that every Mumbaikar would identify with.
Mumbai is big and I mean really big but still space always has been the biggest problem. A city where the middle class lived in a 10 x 10 feet house, privacy was literally non-existent. "Piya ka ghar" explores this very issue of privacy. While "Katha" explored the chawl life, PKG explored the problems of a family living in a chawl.
Jaya Bhaduri plays a village gal Malti, who lives in a big house in her native village. She gets married to Anil Dhawan, Ram, coming from a good family in Bombay only to find out the whole family lives in a small house further divided into smaller cubicles to accommodate everybody. The kitchen of the house becomes the bedroom of the newly-wed.
Malti finds it difficult to adjust to the reduced space but surprisingly finds the rest of the family members living a happy existence. The efforts of the couple to find privacy, intimacy and love in that cramped space forms the rest of the story.
Its been a long time since I have seen the movie but I always remember the one character in the movie. I don't know the name of the actress but she plays Anil Dhawan's sister-in-law. She is the ever smiling woman who teases, makes fun and at the same time supports the newly-wed. Married to Ram's brother for a long time she had made the small house her home with ease and still keeps the romance alive with her husband stealing intimate moments with him.
She represents the true spirit of Mumbai. Sure we have problems and sure life is not easy but we learn to smile in troubles and we try to be happy.
The song of the movie summaries every thing about Mumbai -
Yeh Jeevan Hai, Is Jeevan Ka
Yahi Hai - Yahi Hai - Yahi Hai Rungroop
Thode Ghum Hain, Thodi Khushiyan
Yahi Hai - Yahi Hai - Yahi Hai Chaon Dhoop
Recap - Reel Life Bombay was a free-wheeling series on Bombay in movies and life in Bombay, as seen by my guest writers (Filmiholic, Macushla and Punds) and myself. Here are the earlier posts
Part 1 - Filmiholic on "Salaam Bombay"
Part 2 - My take on "Satya"
Part 3 - Macushla on "Main Madhuri Dixit banna chahti hoon"
Part 4 - Punds on "Katha"
Part 5 - Macushla on "Bhoot"
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Reel life Bombay. Part 5
Today's post by Macushla looks at what lies beneath in Bombay. Here's her rather different take on Ram Gopal Verma's "Bhoot".
Bhoot (2003): A movie about ghosts set in a city full of them. Dead ones and live ones. Present ones and past ones. Real ones and made-up ones.
So, have you heard of the Haji Ali story? A young woman hitches a ride and when you reach her destination, poof !, she’s disappeared. You knock on the door of the address she’s given and the old man who opens it, points woefully to a garlanded photograph.
Or the one about the architect of a prominent period hotel who still walks the corridors checking for flaws?
Or the fav film locale that was once a not so-popular mill in Colaba? Actors have felt a strange, overwhelming presence.
Hotel rooms? The hot spot for suicides where secret liaisons also turn sour and lovers become murderers. I’m sure they’re full of restless souls.
In Bhoot, Swati is haunted by her flat’s previous occupants – Manjeet, a young single mother, and her child. As the exorcism unfolds, so does the truth. Manjeet and her son were murdered by her lusty landlord on account of a rape-gone-wrong.
In real life, we are haunted by much more. Everyone has ghosts because everyone has secrets. And Bombay simmers with secrets as deep as the Arabian Sea.
It’s in the papers every day. Secrets being buried, bartered, bought, sold, exposed. Every one has something to hide. Everyone is willing to pay the price for it. Every one wants to push something into the past, till the past runs out of space and pushes it right back into your face.
But we go on. Still hiding, still pushing. Still creating more ghosts. Dead ones and live ones. Present ones and past ones. Real ones and made-up ones.
Yes. Bhoot recaptures the spirit of Bombay.
Recap - Reel Life Bombay is a free-wheeling series on Bombay in movies and life in Bombay, as seen by my guest writers (Filmiholic, Macushla and Punds) and myself. Here are the earlier posts
Part 1 - Filmiholic on "Salaam Bombay"
Part 2 - My take on "Satya"
Part 3 - Macushla on "Main Madhuri Dixit banna chahti hoon"
Part 4 - Punds on "Katha"
Bhoot (2003): A movie about ghosts set in a city full of them. Dead ones and live ones. Present ones and past ones. Real ones and made-up ones.
So, have you heard of the Haji Ali story? A young woman hitches a ride and when you reach her destination, poof !, she’s disappeared. You knock on the door of the address she’s given and the old man who opens it, points woefully to a garlanded photograph.
Or the one about the architect of a prominent period hotel who still walks the corridors checking for flaws?
Or the fav film locale that was once a not so-popular mill in Colaba? Actors have felt a strange, overwhelming presence.
Hotel rooms? The hot spot for suicides where secret liaisons also turn sour and lovers become murderers. I’m sure they’re full of restless souls.
In Bhoot, Swati is haunted by her flat’s previous occupants – Manjeet, a young single mother, and her child. As the exorcism unfolds, so does the truth. Manjeet and her son were murdered by her lusty landlord on account of a rape-gone-wrong.
In real life, we are haunted by much more. Everyone has ghosts because everyone has secrets. And Bombay simmers with secrets as deep as the Arabian Sea.
It’s in the papers every day. Secrets being buried, bartered, bought, sold, exposed. Every one has something to hide. Everyone is willing to pay the price for it. Every one wants to push something into the past, till the past runs out of space and pushes it right back into your face.
But we go on. Still hiding, still pushing. Still creating more ghosts. Dead ones and live ones. Present ones and past ones. Real ones and made-up ones.
Yes. Bhoot recaptures the spirit of Bombay.
Recap - Reel Life Bombay is a free-wheeling series on Bombay in movies and life in Bombay, as seen by my guest writers (Filmiholic, Macushla and Punds) and myself. Here are the earlier posts
Part 1 - Filmiholic on "Salaam Bombay"
Part 2 - My take on "Satya"
Part 3 - Macushla on "Main Madhuri Dixit banna chahti hoon"
Part 4 - Punds on "Katha"
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Reel life Bombay. Part 4
Today's post is being written by guest author Punds who runs his blog - A simple complication called life. Born and raised in Bombay, Punds is now based in Amsterdam. He quotes this Jagjit Singh line in his "about me" section. "Waqt rehta nahin kahin tik kar, iski aadat bhi aadmi si hai".
Over to Punds for his take on one of my favourite movies - Sai Paranjpe's Katha.
Katha (1983): Sai Paranjpe's "Katha" tells a simple story of two people, one flamboyant and the other simple and honest, both vying for the attention of a girl. "Katha" told the story of the tortoise and the hare in a whole new way. "Katha" was a genre of Hrishikesh Mukerjee type of movies which showed simple stories told simply without much ado. "Katha's" high point was the ability of Sai Paranjpe to show chawl life in Mumbai.
"Katha" takes place in a chawl in Mumbai with Naseerudin Shah as the protagonist who is in love with a girl in the chawl, Deepti Naval. Farooque Shaikh, plays Naseerudin's friend, and is a big show-off. In a short time he manages to woo Deepti Naval as well as most of the chawl inhabitants. While what happens is the predictable good winning over evil kind of story, the director captured the essence of chawl life to its fullest.
My home in Mumbai is in a similar chawl-like environment and I could readily identify with the goings on in the movie. A Mumbai chawl is where every news is big news and everyone knows what is happening in everyone else's house. Yet, internal matters of the home remain within the four walls of the house. At one time these chawls formed the major housing infrastructure in Mumbai but are now slowly giving rise to isolated high-rise apartments.
In a chawl, the smallest the of smallest events call for celebration - be it a promotion, child's birth or marriage. The chawl is indeed one big family where you laugh, share, fight and do everything you would in a family. Gossip and food are exchanged over snacks and tea at each other's house, where everyone is invited.
The biggest constraint is the lack of space in chawl. I remember vividly the scene where Farooque Shaikh visits a neighbor who proudly shows him all the furniture which is foldable - the TV cupboard, the coffee table, everything is foldable to save space.
In a chawl your life is open to everybody. Despite that, joint families live together 'adjusting' to each other and at the same time respecting the privacy of each family member.
Sai Paranjpe captured the warmth, the love and never-say-die attitude of the chawl inhabitants and the Mumbai people in "Katha", which very few movies could do as well.
Recap - Reel Life Bombay is a free-wheeling series on Bombay in movies and life in Bombay, as seen by my guest writers (Filmiholic, Macushla and Punds) and myself. Here are the earlier posts -
Part 1 - Filmiholic on "Salaam Bombay"
Part 2 - My take on "Satya"
Part 3 - Macushla on "Main Madhuri Dixit banna chahti hun"
Over to Punds for his take on one of my favourite movies - Sai Paranjpe's Katha.
Katha (1983): Sai Paranjpe's "Katha" tells a simple story of two people, one flamboyant and the other simple and honest, both vying for the attention of a girl. "Katha" told the story of the tortoise and the hare in a whole new way. "Katha" was a genre of Hrishikesh Mukerjee type of movies which showed simple stories told simply without much ado. "Katha's" high point was the ability of Sai Paranjpe to show chawl life in Mumbai.
"Katha" takes place in a chawl in Mumbai with Naseerudin Shah as the protagonist who is in love with a girl in the chawl, Deepti Naval. Farooque Shaikh, plays Naseerudin's friend, and is a big show-off. In a short time he manages to woo Deepti Naval as well as most of the chawl inhabitants. While what happens is the predictable good winning over evil kind of story, the director captured the essence of chawl life to its fullest.
My home in Mumbai is in a similar chawl-like environment and I could readily identify with the goings on in the movie. A Mumbai chawl is where every news is big news and everyone knows what is happening in everyone else's house. Yet, internal matters of the home remain within the four walls of the house. At one time these chawls formed the major housing infrastructure in Mumbai but are now slowly giving rise to isolated high-rise apartments.
In a chawl, the smallest the of smallest events call for celebration - be it a promotion, child's birth or marriage. The chawl is indeed one big family where you laugh, share, fight and do everything you would in a family. Gossip and food are exchanged over snacks and tea at each other's house, where everyone is invited.
The biggest constraint is the lack of space in chawl. I remember vividly the scene where Farooque Shaikh visits a neighbor who proudly shows him all the furniture which is foldable - the TV cupboard, the coffee table, everything is foldable to save space.
In a chawl your life is open to everybody. Despite that, joint families live together 'adjusting' to each other and at the same time respecting the privacy of each family member.
Sai Paranjpe captured the warmth, the love and never-say-die attitude of the chawl inhabitants and the Mumbai people in "Katha", which very few movies could do as well.
Recap - Reel Life Bombay is a free-wheeling series on Bombay in movies and life in Bombay, as seen by my guest writers (Filmiholic, Macushla and Punds) and myself. Here are the earlier posts -
Part 1 - Filmiholic on "Salaam Bombay"
Part 2 - My take on "Satya"
Part 3 - Macushla on "Main Madhuri Dixit banna chahti hun"
Monday, July 03, 2006
Reel life Bombay. Part 3
Today's guest writer is my friend, Macushla. Living most of her life in Bombay, Macushla is one part O-Ren Ishii, one part Ellie Arroway, and one big swig of Maggie Fitzergald. A writer by profession and a non-conformist by choice, she is currently sharpening her Hattori Hanzo ahead of (hopefully) joining the blogosphere.
Here's her take on Bombay in Chandan Arora's "Main Madhuri Dixit banna chahti hoon".
Main Madhuri Dixit Banna Chahti Hoon (2003) is a lesson we must learn that what you see is not what you always get. Behind the gloss and glamour of a booming film industry and the city that feeds it, a whole generation of lives watches their hopes and dreams peeling off like make-up on a weathered face. The pancake hides the scars. The tears expose them.
Watching this film, I was amazed by its simplicity and cinematography and repelled by its overwhelming honesty. It exalted my city with breathtaking pride and crushed it before I even had a chance to get my breath back. My city was portrayed as creator and destroyer even before I was halfway through my popcorn. But then that is Bombay, isn’t it? Dark. Demanding. Diabolic. My city is a parasite that feeds off the hopes of its people.
The truth isn’t easy, and I have no alternative but to face it.
In the film, Chutki, an aspiring actress, danced her way to music and misconceptions. The world was her stage and Bombay was her launch pad. The city would welcome her into its bosom and nurture her ambitions with TLC. One hour and many struggles later, Chutki had to resign herself to the fact that she was, and would remain, a “Biggie of B-Grade”.
Chutki may have never played to packed houses, but she drove a point home. That, this is Bombay city, where the fear of failure is stronger than the fear of death. Or life. Or HIV. Or corruption. Or anything else. That the city seduces, uses and abuses, and you wouldn’t even know the difference. That we are so aware, and yet, so tolerant of its unforgiving nature? Then why do we continue with this?
Maybe it’s because somewhere deep inside all of us, there’s a Chutki still waiting to dance her big dance.
Recap - This is an ongoing series on Bombay on movies mixed with the writer's take on life in the city.
[Part 1 - Filmiholic on Salaam Bombay]
[Part 2 - My take on Satya]
Here's her take on Bombay in Chandan Arora's "Main Madhuri Dixit banna chahti hoon".
Main Madhuri Dixit Banna Chahti Hoon (2003) is a lesson we must learn that what you see is not what you always get. Behind the gloss and glamour of a booming film industry and the city that feeds it, a whole generation of lives watches their hopes and dreams peeling off like make-up on a weathered face. The pancake hides the scars. The tears expose them.
Watching this film, I was amazed by its simplicity and cinematography and repelled by its overwhelming honesty. It exalted my city with breathtaking pride and crushed it before I even had a chance to get my breath back. My city was portrayed as creator and destroyer even before I was halfway through my popcorn. But then that is Bombay, isn’t it? Dark. Demanding. Diabolic. My city is a parasite that feeds off the hopes of its people.
The truth isn’t easy, and I have no alternative but to face it.
In the film, Chutki, an aspiring actress, danced her way to music and misconceptions. The world was her stage and Bombay was her launch pad. The city would welcome her into its bosom and nurture her ambitions with TLC. One hour and many struggles later, Chutki had to resign herself to the fact that she was, and would remain, a “Biggie of B-Grade”.
Chutki may have never played to packed houses, but she drove a point home. That, this is Bombay city, where the fear of failure is stronger than the fear of death. Or life. Or HIV. Or corruption. Or anything else. That the city seduces, uses and abuses, and you wouldn’t even know the difference. That we are so aware, and yet, so tolerant of its unforgiving nature? Then why do we continue with this?
Maybe it’s because somewhere deep inside all of us, there’s a Chutki still waiting to dance her big dance.
Recap - This is an ongoing series on Bombay on movies mixed with the writer's take on life in the city.
[Part 1 - Filmiholic on Salaam Bombay]
[Part 2 - My take on Satya]
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Reel life Bombay. Part 2
As part of my ongoing series on Bombay in movies, here's my take on "Satya". Just a recap - this series is a free-wheeling mix of Bombay in movies and about what the author (self and a couple of guest writers) felt when he/she saw it. Life, alive in the movies and in Bombay.
Satya (1998): From his first shot coming out of (where else?) VT Station to his dead body being turned by Inspector Khandilkar’s foot, Satya’s story was born amidst the dance bars, tabelas and jails of Bombay. And died a miserable death in a dingy house. The dark underbelly of Bombay and the politician-gunda nexus has rarely been shown as starkly in Hindi cinema as it has in Satya. Other than those oft-heard phrases, the word “raw” typically goes into any review of Satya.
Some scenes that I can never forget - Bhikhu Mhatre shouting out “Mumbai ka raja kaun? Bhikhu Mhatre!” on the rocks of Band Stand. Or Bhikhu pumping bullets into friend-turned-foe Guru, saying in anguish to Satya – “saala, dono ne same item ko bajaya tha”. And of course, the brilliant climax sequence shot amidst thousands of people at Chowpatty during Ganpati visarjan.
I saw Satya with my friends on a rain-soaked evening at Eros near Churchgate. We came in half drenched and reached home almost fully wet. We saw it a time when all of us were at an uncertain stage in our careers. Not that we fancied ourselves as goons. Not that we didn’t know crime didn’t pay. We saw on screen what we used to see in the papers. And sometimes had seen in real life. But most of all, we loved the crazy bunch in Bhikhu’s gang. The cigarettes, the booze, the drunkenness and the attitude.
In the years that followed, we danced to “Goli maar bheje main” when we were single, and “Sapne mein milti hai” when one of us got married. And on sobering down we talked about the times in our lives when we saw “Satya”. Even if the movie’s forgotten, the friendship isn’t.
This was Part 1: Filmiholic's take on Salaam Bombay.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Reel life Bombay. Part 1
Starting this week, I’m kicking off a series on Bombay in movies. Guest-writing on my blog is Filmiholic. Based out of New York, Filmiholic is an avid lover of Hindi movies. And she’s not even Indian.
We should be joined by a couple of other people, depending on their availability. Between us we will be talking movies, talking Bombay, talking the whole lot of emotions that this one city evokes in its viewers and how it’s a separate character in a movie. With its own identity, its own presence – sometimes even towering above its actors. Think of this as a chota Bambaiya film festival being held across New York and Bombay.
First, here’s how Filmiholic describes Bombay
A salaam to Bombay
“The first movie memory I have of Bombay was not actually a Bollywood one. I was living in Madrid and had gone to one of the art house cinemas to see Mira Nair's Salaam Bombay. It was a long time ago and three memories stood out the strongest: the boys singing and dancing along to a Sridevi number in Shekar Kapur's Mr. India, Nana Patekar's magnetic and simultaneously menacing presence, and the gullible white tourist at the Gateway of India buying drugs.
The first thing that strikes me about the city is the architecture which reminds me of Belfast. Those ponderous brick buildings, for which, I guess, both cities have the Brits to thank for. So much of what I've come to love about Bombay is the fact that it reminds me of other cities I love. But it has its own particular Bombay/Indian twist to it.
As a native New Yorker, how could I not love a city that is also a magnet to so many other people? Just substitute our Italians, Mexicans and Senegalese for your Gujratis, Tamilians, Punjabis, et al and there you are. Then there's the fact that this pullulating city lives on top of the ocean, where prime seafront real estate is all piled up with high-rises, and it reminds me of the sensuous Rio de Janeiro, with the slight (but significant) difference that Mumbaikars don't run around quite as scantily dressed (yet) as so many cariocas do !”
Kick-starting the series is Filmiholic’s take on Salaam Bombay.
Salaam Bombay (1988): Mira Nair’s brilliant movie was my introduction to Hindi Cinema and to Bombay. So many details are familiar, having seen them on screen and in real life. I look at the scene where Krishna runs alongside the taxi that Sola Saal, the young Nepali girl, rides in, and I flash back to my first arrival in Bombay. The young girls begging for money, rapping with small fists on my hotel car’s window as we stood at a signal. Salaam Bombay’s scenes, shot around various bordellos around Grant Road, vividly show the pastel shades around the city. In between those walls and balconies, there are grey and crumbling bits. Sometimes, in between that, a flash of color from a religious poster, or a movie star in an ad. Or from the garish dress worn by someone like Sola Saal. Like the city, it's too much to drink in with your eyes as it goes by.
And then the clothes. Over a decade before the term "metrosexual" was ever coined, Bombay boys had it down pat. There's a scene where Krishna and his friends rob an older Parsi man and go out to celebrate by drinking while on a carriage ride around the city after dark. I looked at the garish shirts these kids had on, and I flash forward to the Saturday morning Bollywood shows we get here, and how in the weekly segment looking at what the man-on-the-street in Bombay thought about the most recent release, they'll tape comments from these guys exiting the cinemas, and as I watch them swagger on camera (never a shy guy in the bunch!) I can't help but thinking that in Bombay, men - on the whole - have no fear of color or accessories.
Picture courtesy: Mirabai Films
We should be joined by a couple of other people, depending on their availability. Between us we will be talking movies, talking Bombay, talking the whole lot of emotions that this one city evokes in its viewers and how it’s a separate character in a movie. With its own identity, its own presence – sometimes even towering above its actors. Think of this as a chota Bambaiya film festival being held across New York and Bombay.
First, here’s how Filmiholic describes Bombay
A salaam to Bombay
“The first movie memory I have of Bombay was not actually a Bollywood one. I was living in Madrid and had gone to one of the art house cinemas to see Mira Nair's Salaam Bombay. It was a long time ago and three memories stood out the strongest: the boys singing and dancing along to a Sridevi number in Shekar Kapur's Mr. India, Nana Patekar's magnetic and simultaneously menacing presence, and the gullible white tourist at the Gateway of India buying drugs.
The first thing that strikes me about the city is the architecture which reminds me of Belfast. Those ponderous brick buildings, for which, I guess, both cities have the Brits to thank for. So much of what I've come to love about Bombay is the fact that it reminds me of other cities I love. But it has its own particular Bombay/Indian twist to it.
As a native New Yorker, how could I not love a city that is also a magnet to so many other people? Just substitute our Italians, Mexicans and Senegalese for your Gujratis, Tamilians, Punjabis, et al and there you are. Then there's the fact that this pullulating city lives on top of the ocean, where prime seafront real estate is all piled up with high-rises, and it reminds me of the sensuous Rio de Janeiro, with the slight (but significant) difference that Mumbaikars don't run around quite as scantily dressed (yet) as so many cariocas do !”
Kick-starting the series is Filmiholic’s take on Salaam Bombay.
Salaam Bombay (1988): Mira Nair’s brilliant movie was my introduction to Hindi Cinema and to Bombay. So many details are familiar, having seen them on screen and in real life. I look at the scene where Krishna runs alongside the taxi that Sola Saal, the young Nepali girl, rides in, and I flash back to my first arrival in Bombay. The young girls begging for money, rapping with small fists on my hotel car’s window as we stood at a signal. Salaam Bombay’s scenes, shot around various bordellos around Grant Road, vividly show the pastel shades around the city. In between those walls and balconies, there are grey and crumbling bits. Sometimes, in between that, a flash of color from a religious poster, or a movie star in an ad. Or from the garish dress worn by someone like Sola Saal. Like the city, it's too much to drink in with your eyes as it goes by.
And then the clothes. Over a decade before the term "metrosexual" was ever coined, Bombay boys had it down pat. There's a scene where Krishna and his friends rob an older Parsi man and go out to celebrate by drinking while on a carriage ride around the city after dark. I looked at the garish shirts these kids had on, and I flash forward to the Saturday morning Bollywood shows we get here, and how in the weekly segment looking at what the man-on-the-street in Bombay thought about the most recent release, they'll tape comments from these guys exiting the cinemas, and as I watch them swagger on camera (never a shy guy in the bunch!) I can't help but thinking that in Bombay, men - on the whole - have no fear of color or accessories.
Picture courtesy: Mirabai Films
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Lost for thought
As if the company of Dilip D’Souza, his friends Abodh and Mira, his son Sahir and Sahir's cousin Varun wasn’t enough, there was the experience of walking around Chor Bazaar. It had to be a trip to remember.
(All pictures below have been processed by Azhar Chougule who, along with Samarth Bhasin, runs this superb blog - The Daily Sunrise)
The last time I came to Chor Bazaar was 15 years back, when I was all of 19 years. Tagging along then with a group of friends who wanted to buy car stereos, car dashboards, car everything, I was lost in the crowd. And I was lost now.
Our trip starts at B. Merwaan’s, an Irani restaurant opposite Grant Road station. We soaked khakhras in our chai but were sadly late for brun maskas, mawa cakes and other goodies, all of which were over for the day.
Chor Bazaar spills out on the street. Everything is sold here. DVDs, VCDs, cameras, calculators, porn, furniture, clocks, fans (table, ceiling, industrial, etc. etc), brooms, phones…the list is endless. As are the street vendors, the shops and the people.
The Pepsi crate is acutally full of a soft drink called "Fine". Fine Cola, anyone ? We passed.
I wanted to catch the old man with the shining gramophone in the background. He wasn’t too thrilled, but acquiesced all the same.
We pass two mosques - "ek naya, ek purana" we are told.
We notice a broom of a size I didn’t know existed. This was an instant hit with the kids. Two are bought immediately and the lads go about dissecting them with gusto.
Next up is jeera-golli for everyone. The colours are so much brighter now. But the thrill is the same. Even if you can’t get them as easily now near schools.
We stop for masala soda and Abodh informs me that these are still made, even if one can’t find Sosyo on the shelves. Over this refreshing drink we talk about how photography is banned at Chowpatty. Yet, Abodh said he had argued with a cop at the beach. He's posted some nice photos here.
I talk about the Mumbai Mill Land case, and Dilip reminds me of the passing away of his dear friend, Rajnarayan Chandavarkar. Brief silence.
Moving slowly out of Chor Bazaar, we are now at Kumbharwada and facing Null Bazaar. Just ahead is Ladi Bazaar and further on is Khetwadi to our left and Kamathipura to our right.
As we head towards Gol Temple (literally a round-shaped temple at a junction there), the names of the streets change. We leave Husainaya Marg, and Sayed Lane to move on to S. S. Maharaj Marg and Trimbak Parshuram Street.
This is also the area which saw some of the worst rioting in 1992/1993. I stood rooted at the Gol Temple for some moments, trying to rewind to 13 years back and grasp what must have happened then. I can’t.
This link on the Srikrishna Report informs us that the Gol Temple saw many “communal incidents”. Twenty people - largely pedestrians - were attacked and killed on one day alone - 7th Jan 1993 in this area around V.P. Road.
Looking at the way people were rushing around, pushing carts, driving their cabs, on their way home, selling bhutta, channa…….and to think that for days at a stretch, there was arson, riots, loots, murders. All of it, and much more. I still couldn’t get it. I still don’t.
Cut to the present. Both kids are now tired of walking around. So are we. They leave in a taxi, and I follow soon. The crowds begin fading as I reach Marine Drive.
I never thought I’d be a lost within Bombay but today I was. Lost within the streets of Chor Bazaar, lost for thought at Gol Temple, and lost for the myriad of experiences, that is this city.
(All pictures below have been processed by Azhar Chougule who, along with Samarth Bhasin, runs this superb blog - The Daily Sunrise)
The last time I came to Chor Bazaar was 15 years back, when I was all of 19 years. Tagging along then with a group of friends who wanted to buy car stereos, car dashboards, car everything, I was lost in the crowd. And I was lost now.
Our trip starts at B. Merwaan’s, an Irani restaurant opposite Grant Road station. We soaked khakhras in our chai but were sadly late for brun maskas, mawa cakes and other goodies, all of which were over for the day.
Chor Bazaar spills out on the street. Everything is sold here. DVDs, VCDs, cameras, calculators, porn, furniture, clocks, fans (table, ceiling, industrial, etc. etc), brooms, phones…the list is endless. As are the street vendors, the shops and the people.
The Pepsi crate is acutally full of a soft drink called "Fine". Fine Cola, anyone ? We passed.
I wanted to catch the old man with the shining gramophone in the background. He wasn’t too thrilled, but acquiesced all the same.
We pass two mosques - "ek naya, ek purana" we are told.
We notice a broom of a size I didn’t know existed. This was an instant hit with the kids. Two are bought immediately and the lads go about dissecting them with gusto.
Next up is jeera-golli for everyone. The colours are so much brighter now. But the thrill is the same. Even if you can’t get them as easily now near schools.
We stop for masala soda and Abodh informs me that these are still made, even if one can’t find Sosyo on the shelves. Over this refreshing drink we talk about how photography is banned at Chowpatty. Yet, Abodh said he had argued with a cop at the beach. He's posted some nice photos here.
I talk about the Mumbai Mill Land case, and Dilip reminds me of the passing away of his dear friend, Rajnarayan Chandavarkar. Brief silence.
Moving slowly out of Chor Bazaar, we are now at Kumbharwada and facing Null Bazaar. Just ahead is Ladi Bazaar and further on is Khetwadi to our left and Kamathipura to our right.
As we head towards Gol Temple (literally a round-shaped temple at a junction there), the names of the streets change. We leave Husainaya Marg, and Sayed Lane to move on to S. S. Maharaj Marg and Trimbak Parshuram Street.
This is also the area which saw some of the worst rioting in 1992/1993. I stood rooted at the Gol Temple for some moments, trying to rewind to 13 years back and grasp what must have happened then. I can’t.
This link on the Srikrishna Report informs us that the Gol Temple saw many “communal incidents”. Twenty people - largely pedestrians - were attacked and killed on one day alone - 7th Jan 1993 in this area around V.P. Road.
Looking at the way people were rushing around, pushing carts, driving their cabs, on their way home, selling bhutta, channa…….and to think that for days at a stretch, there was arson, riots, loots, murders. All of it, and much more. I still couldn’t get it. I still don’t.
Cut to the present. Both kids are now tired of walking around. So are we. They leave in a taxi, and I follow soon. The crowds begin fading as I reach Marine Drive.
I never thought I’d be a lost within Bombay but today I was. Lost within the streets of Chor Bazaar, lost for thought at Gol Temple, and lost for the myriad of experiences, that is this city.
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