Radio Pop

Every morning in the lift I hear the lilting instrumental version of Yesterday Once More by The Carpenters and am  transported back to the 1970s when one actually had soulful music from Billboard! If I am alone in the lift, "I sing along, it can really make me smile, for it's yesterday once more". The very beautiful, but anorexic Karen and her brother Richard Carpenter defined a kind of serene pop music, which even my father couldn't criticise, even though he had a thing or two to say against "Pop music" in the Post-Woodstock, Post Beatles split-up times! 

The lyrics of this beautiful composition have  the power to save one from the Monday blues  or travails of the competitive present; at least for those of us who grew up in the Radio and Transistor era, with some help from HMV Record Player and later, Stereo systems! "When I was young, I'd listen to the radio...." How accurate is this song, even though it's not its accuracy that attracted you to it in the first place. 

I remember three or four radio programmes for which  one waited eagerly on the designated day to tune in to them at the exact time, without missing a single number! God forbid if there was power failure at that time!  Frantic search for the batteries would follow and big brother would cycle away to the corner shop to get fresh supplies! All built up the anticipation of a great hour of music!  AIR  had "Forces Request" every Monday, where one could send in a request on a 15 paise Postcard to greet a real or imaginary friend from the armed forces. The idea was to get to hear the song of one's choice, light flirtatious messaging and 15 seconds of fame at hearing one's name announced on the radio, being an added bonus. Then there was A Date With You, which played on Fridays, introducing one to Elton John, Donna Summers, Cliff Richards, Bee Gees et al! Yuva Vani also had some jukebox, listener's choice platform to please young adolescents, in an age when LPs of Western Rock & Roll  and R&B were expensive and difficult to procure. And  how can one forget " Maghrabi Mausiki" which Radio Bangladesh played and to get a noise-proof, static-proof reception, one had to tilt the transistor North, South, East and West, including a little tap on the top periodically to make the sound better!  Apart from delighting us young adolescents with rare songs from The Partridge Family, Osmonds, Roberta Flack and many more, it also taught me my first serious Urdu words 'Maghrabi', ie Western and Mausiki, music, as my father obligingly translated for me! 

Suddenly I am reminded of Mary Hopkins .....Those were the days my friend we thought they'd never end".....

 

Neelkamal's Musings: Ladies Sangeet

Neelkamal's Musings: Ladies Sangeet: Ladies Sangeet                                Attending pre-wedding celebrations in the last few days and continuing with my observati...

Ladies Sangeet

Ladies Sangeet

                               Attending pre-wedding celebrations in the last few days and continuing with my observations from the last few wedding seasons, I can't help but comment on the changing mores of Sangeet and Mehndi ceremonies of North Indian weddings.

                               A ladies Sangeet ceremony in the yesteryears was meant to kick-start the wedding celebrations. The Dadi's, Nani's, Bua's Chachi's, Mausi's, Mami's and assorted cousins and friends would gather in the courtyard, with minimum preparations, even more minimalistic attention to their saris and jewellery and totally un-selfconscious of their 10 year old Banarsis. They would play the dholak, harmonium and Manjira to sing some Devi ke bhajans, move on to Banna-Banni or Suhag based folk songs and of course, throw in the ubiquitous Bollywood numbers of the variety of “Tu chhat pe aa ja goriye jind meriye” or “Nazar laagi raja tohrey bangle pe”! Some veteran -of-many-ladies-sangeet Bua would fish out a stained and dog-eared diary, with lyrics preserved  on it and suddenly the ladies would be infused with a new-found confidence at the mere sight of this enabling tool to make the evening a grand success. Lot of fun, jokes and leg pulling later, some talented and some not-so-talented ladies would be cajoled and coaxed into getting up and dancing. They would reluctantly do so and depending on the dominant folk culture of that area, put up  a solo or couple dance, with one of them masquerading as the male partner, replete with “pheta” or “safa”. It could be a UP or Rajasthani style folk dance, or even some semi-classical improvisation! But it was impromptu, spontaneous, unrehearsed, unprofessional, maybe even clumsy and awkward, but it was fun and participatory! Giggles would follow after each failed attempt at a “thumka”, but would soon be drowned by another round of singing and dancing. The food that was served during the revelry was a version of High Tea and consisted of the very basic Samosas, Kachoris, Chholey bhature, mithai and tea or coffee. Not to forget Campa Cola and Thumsup! And Kwality Ice Cream!

                             All through this fun filled evening, the men folk stayed away, attending to the bandobust for the groom's party at the “Janwasa”, a term which is extinct from the lexicon of wedding logistics. The bride would sit coyly in the midst of the courtyard and observe the performances slantingly and hesitatingly, with eyes that remained downcast most of the time, as if to appear to enjoy too much would be disrespectful to her parental home, or convey an unbecoming eagerness to rush to her marital home, a big no- no for the “Sanskaari” girl that she was! If she was forced to perform she would probably sing the mandatory " Khushi Khushi kar do vida, tumhari beti raj karegi" or "main to Bhool chali Babul ka des, piya ka ghar pyara lage", although she was in serious danger of being labelled "fast" if she really sang that number!

                              Cut to the present: it's NOT Ladies Sangeet anymore, but just Sangeet. This gender neutral nomenclature is more inclusive and perforce allows the men of the bride's family AND of course, of the groom and his family to participate actively in the celebrations! No longer is it the family home courtyard, but some expensive location, away from the bride's home! It's an "event" that is a product created by a few managers, just as the rest of the wedding is. It has seen engagement of a choreographer who will ensure perfection in the performance through some serious selection of songs, cut into a medley, with a minimum of 4 rehearsals preceding the event, and sound & light effects meticulously designed by the Wedding Planner! There's a running commentary by some MC and a photo montage plays out on the back screen, running you through the bride's beautiful journey of life, from the time she was born to the moment of her Roka or Sagai or whatever! Great perfection undoubtedly, but something goes missing in all this pursuit of excellence. It is too rehearsed, it has no spontaneity, it has no endearing and awkward family retainer trying to play the dholak, no singing, no folk element and really no soul! It's just noisy Bollywood all the way, with piped music or may be a DJ dishing out his version of popular numbers! It is a performing party with an audience that applauds politely at appropriate moments! It's not un-adulterated fun, it's dazzlingly impersonal and might I say, contrived?

                                Of course, at the end some die-hard dance fanatics take the floor, but only if they can tear themselves away from the Bar and the endless counters of twenty varieties of cuisine spread out before them!

                                And yes the bride is no longer oh-so-coy, she does her number with the bride groom on his knees, proposing to her in full glare of family and elders-“-kab tak jawani chhupaogi rani-----mujhse shadi karogi”! The Dadi's, Nani's, Bua's Chachi's, Mausi's, Mami's stand stupefied at this new age version of Ladies Sangeet.

Happy New Year: Movie on a Monday night, that too after a longish festival weekend? No, Normally not, but this one had Deepika, so lustingly we headed to the nearest cinemas! We came out a good three hours later, uncertain in our assessments! So what did it have? Flesh, Flesh and some more Flesh! That Deepika is sizzling hot, with a toned body and great dancing skills goes without saying! That she can act, has been proven all through 2013! That there are SRK and Sonu Sood showing off their 8 pack abs was also well advertised! So what was there beyond these bod-shows in the movie? Well. it was Abhishek Bacchan, trying to hide his hairy flabbiness! Just Imagine his complexes, surrounded by bodies beautiful all around him! He had few options available to him! He chose to take the situation head on and in the process out-shadowed the mighty SRK!
So basically the story is about a vendetta, which is achieved through an international heist and dance competition, with a motley crew of Boman Irani, Sonu Sood, Abhishek and Vivaan Shah led by SRK.
It has crazy cross references to SRK's previous films, which may amuse you to begin with but sound insipid beyond a point. There is this annoying fixation which each of the gang has about one of their parents! So Boman, at 50 years of age, is petrified of his mom, Sonu will start fuming through his ears at the mere mention of his mom, Deepika keeps referring to her mom and of course SRK has a father who has been wronged by Jackie Shroff! ( As this is central to the theme, it is not annoying!)
Abhishek and the Shah boy also have some such issue but I have already forgotten about it!
Considering the movie is by Farah Khan and one of the sub plots is dancing, I was expecting some great dance numbers, but barring one, really the choreography was uninspiring and music good only in parts! The lights and costumes hurt the eyes as they once did in Las Vegas and I was left rummaging through the hand bag for my shades!
Biggest discovery in the film? That SRK is bored with Hindi cinema! He looks spaced out, for want of a better word! I wonder why? Is he getting even with Farah Khan for their "Katti", but isn't Gauri Khan the Producer? Or is he getting even with both? I don't know, but despite being good, he's not in his elements here! In a sense, it was an opportunity for the others and each one did something better than his previous celluloid appearance!
Final verdict, funny and watchable, but just about! AND, when will Bollywood realise that a movie is not a Board Examination where you must provide the mandatory Three Hours to unravel the mystery of the Question Paper!

L

Haider

Haider

                          What qualifies for a great movie? Simply, Haider! A great screenplay, one of the best cinematographies, brilliant acting by almost everyone, a clever adaptation of one of the most sublime tragedies (Hamlet) of all times and seamless infusion of the same with contemporary, identifiable Kashmir militancy, all contribute to a memorable experience.

                          Shahid as Haider is the Aligarh Univ educated, English speaking, Kashmiri youth, out on a mission to find his missing father in the valley, while discovering new aspects of his "half-widowed" mother. He's torn asunder, almost going mad, by her deceit on the one hand and her love for him on the other! Kay Kay Menon, is the snake who poisons the life of this small family and he is hatefully brilliant in his portrayal of a treacherous brother, lover and uncle!

                           But Shahid is more engrossing than his last three best roles put together, while Tabu as his mother has never done a better job than this. And that's saying a lot, considering she has been consistently brilliant! Oedipus Complex has never been portrayed better in Hindi cinema. How is it that Tabu is so convincing in all her self-contradictory manifestations in this film? When she says that she had no poison in her heart against her husband, you believe her; when she is with Kay Kay and hinting at betrayal, you are left wondering whether she's a victim or an accomplice; when she swears to die for her son, she is your normal, loving mother; even her Oedipal behaviour is mostly matter of fact! The movie most certainly belongs to Tabu, but that is also relatively speaking, considering how credibly Shahid plays the role of a vulnerable, innocent, fragile character who needs to be mothered, while trying to seek vengeance for his hero of a father!

                             How can I not comment on my favourite Irrfan Khan? His appearance puts purpose into the narrative, which by that time had started meandering a bit! Just proves, it’s not the length of your role that matters, but how central it is to the progression of the narrative  and how effectively you deliver that. Full marks to him for his portrayal but even fuller marks (!) to Vishal Bharadwaj for making the Ghost of Hamlet’s father come alive through a character named Roohdaar! That was brilliantly inventive, if nothing else was.

                              Some scenes (entrapment play) were not so well done, but let’s forget them because on the whole, the film retains your interest and does provide periodic comic relief in an otherwise heavy theme. Literal translations of the famous soliloquies were avoidable, but it was not jarring. In any case I am feeling magnanimous enough to forgive and forget a few deficiencies!

I loved the climax when Shahid is besieged by his mother’s advice on the one hand and his father’s appeal for revenge on the other! That it manages to leave a socio-political-ethical message for the youth is an added bonus. Go watch the movie to see the choice Shahid makes!

Often times we have all witnessed "Shradhhalus" ( devout) holding road side langars ( community free food distribution) on religious occasions such as Durgaashtmi, Navmi, some Jayanti or just for thanks-giving to your favourite Deity for prayers answered. 
While I have high regard for people who take time and money out for service of humanity, to feed the poor or not-so-poor, what they leave behind on pack-up is a greater dis-service to mankind than anything else! Plastic plates, spoons, styrofoam glasses, fly-away carry bags of 5 micron or even less thickness all lie strewn on pavements where the langar was held, waiting for some municipal worker to come and clear it.
Today on this day of Durgaashtami, Gandhi/Shastri Jayanti and on launch of Swachh Bharat campaign, let us appeal to all religious and community organisations to specifically avoid leaving litter behind while they serve humanity by holding free kitchens ! Use the traditional degradable Doña-Patta-kulhar for serving and take them with you when you leave!
Amen!

A tale of two ladies

                                                        A tale of two ladies


                                Finding a relaxed evening away from home after a stressful period, the offspring and I did something I hadn't done in thirty years;  watched two Bollywood releases back to back! On laptop, streamingly!  Dawat-I-ishq and Khoobsurat. Here's what we thought:

                                Dawat-I-ishq is a light, funny, easy comedy, woven around the culinary USPs of Hyderabad and Lucknow, with a serious core: dowry and section 498A. It's a delightful watch with Parineeti playing the Hyderabadi girl, frustrated by constant rejection in the marriage market due to the greed of dowry seekers! She finally decides to banish all thought of marriage and realise her dreams with a little help from Section 498A. Anupam Kher, as her father,  hesitatingly but brilliantly plays her con game along! He's at his vintage best here! The two towns are captured beautifully from a middle class, non-elite lense and Aditya Roy Kapoor turns out the role of a principled Lucknowi restaurateur with an effortless credibility, the likes of which have not been seen in recent times. With an easy climax, just turning away from the looming threat of mafia dons, the movie did, however, make me think whether it was wise to treat a seriously enabling clause for Indian women ie section 498A in this nonchalant, flippant manner! Otherwise a nice enough watch. Parineeti steals the show, as usual, but should now steer away from the simple, middle class, girl-next-door type of roles, if she wants to prevent being stereotyped!

                             Now Khoobsurat was another ball- game! This Sonam Kapoor, she should be exiled to her own fairy tale castles or better still, Dad should find her an out-of-work prince as a husband and give her a real opportunity to play out her royal fantasies, in a more convincing manner!  So that we are spared from the trash she dishes out repeatedly!  I mean, she really suffers from a false sense of entitlement to act like a lunatic, scatter-brained, fashionista who can do anything and genuinely believe people will lap it up! In an effort to look cool  she  donnes a near gypsy style in the movie, even destroying her beautiful room in the palace with scarves and chunnis, tied to the four poster bed! In a further attempt to enhance her coolness she calls her mother by her first name in a most  affectatious  manner, eats noisily, makes stupid, unconvincing attempts at physiotherapy, delivers dense statements like " tum ko dekh kar mujhe gandey gandey khayal aatey hain" :  in short she gets everything wrong! Poor Fawad, who I loved in Zindagi Gulzar Hai, tries to redeem the show, but he can't, such is the all - pervasive stupidity of the theme and chief protagonist, Sonam! Ratna Pathak Shah shines but it's impact in terms of watchability of the movie is minuscule. Perhaps the only redemption is some off beat, different type of music, lifted from Rajasthani folk songs. Ugh, no more Sonam for me, please. We plan to watch Rekha's Khoobsurat again tonight to wash away the ill-effects of this inane "inspiration"! 

Mardaani

Mardaani: 
Somewhere Bollywood seems to have acquired the art of making slick films, as ably demonstrated by Aditya Chopra in his latest release, Mardaani. An immensely watchable film, despite the dark theme of drug and sex trafficking, I couldn’t help admire all the characters who played their roles so craftily, even if they had a one scene presence in the film. Of course the film might as well be called The Return of Rani Mukherjee, as she is the all pervasive, dominant, committed, strong yet humane character in the film - a Sr. Inspector of Police, with a formidable name like Shivani Shivaji Rao! She has a chirpy adolescent of a niece and a dedicated doctor of a husband and they provide depth to Shivani’s character. Her dedication to duty is inspirational and her performance more than convincing!

Many lady officers ranging from the civil side to uniformed services will identify with Rani’s character in the film as a woman trying to balance life with the pressing demands of the professional world, as also from her personal front. That they do both may seem perfunctory to those outside this pale, but balancing between home/hearth and office actually requires great managerial skills, almost jugglery, to succeed. And this effort or even being successful at it is seldom recognized. Rani does both with elan and I for one, wanted to stand up and applaud her for her real life portrayal of a sharp-shooter police officer, who wants emotion to be central to the police’s psyche, her own gaali hurling ways notwithstanding.

As I watched the film, a bit tense and disturbed about the fate of the trafficked young girls, I realised that I didn’t know the names of any of the artists, other than that of my favourite- Rani Mukherjee. But I found out later about this Tahir Bhasin who plays the English speaking, video-game addict, VOIP using, bad-boy Karan Rastogi in the film. He looks and sounds like the kind of guy your kids probably went to Uni with and that thought was enough to send shivers down my spine! The bad-guys are no longer the semi-literate, taporis who grew up in slums, peddling 5 or 10 gms worth of coke, but they come from respected middle class neighbourhoods with expensive private school education! That he held his own, despite Rani’s larger than life persona in the film speaks about his potential. He is someone to watch for in the future. 

It’s the title of the movie, which bothered me all through. I looked at the online dictionary and found out what Mardaani translates into: Mannish. So, to be acknowledged as good, you have to be mannish! Why must the test of being defined as brave and strong come in masculine terms? Men are perceived to be brave and strong, so much so that many strong women will routinely try and prove their worth by looking, behaving, talking like men. It is almost part of the culture to pay compliments like “yeh meri beti nahi, beta hai!” Is it OK to call Shivani mardaani aurat or is there a better way of describing a strong-willed woman? Do we still live under medieval mindsets: khoob ladi mardaani, woh to Jhansi wali Rani thi?

Humpty sharma ki Dulhaniya: DDLJ with a 21st century tweak

After a busy week in office, went and saw Humpty Sharma ki Dulhaniya. There's something unreal yet endearing about the film as most romances leave you feeling: weak-kneed, teary and with a sense of wellness at the end. God is in His Heaven and all is well with the world. Amen!

Kavya ( Alia Bhatt) who lives with her family in Ambala, has this dream marriage coming up, with a tall, fair and handsome, doctor from London, a paragon of virtue, son of her father's best friend etc etc. She can't ask for more, can she, except that there is the minor irritant of her desire to wear a designer lehanga for the shadi. Papa ladka tumhari pasand ka aur lehanga meri pasand ka! Off she goes to Delhi to earn a Manish Malhotra for herself, but meets Humpty there and has a great fall! Because one knows there's wedding shopping going on, one wonders and fears whether papa's SUVs and muscle men will allow them to put their lives together again!

The first half is a crazy rag tag of the hilarious trio of Humpty (Varun) and his friends wooing Kavya ( for Varun, of course) and one dramatic scene after another, these two are irrevocably in love. I waited for the second half with bated breath, expecting melodrama, Goondas, emotional blackmail, etc but lo and behold this is not a weepy Alia but a calm and confident modern young girl who doesn't crumble with the first sticky situation that confronts her little life. Nor is the Papa so dry and villainous, btw!

That the film is a tribute to DDLJ is well known. The theme, the punjabi setting, the NRI dulha, the drunken night when "nothing happened" is all hugely reminiscent of DDLJ and consciously so. Yet this is 21st century and that a belle from Ambala can down a beer faster than the Delhi stud, or drink whiskey neat in a welcome party for her groom, while her boyfriend tries to find a chink in the groom's armour, is a surprise even to me! I thought this ' liberation' was the preserve of Delhi, Mumbai, Kolkata, Bangalore girls with maybe Jaipur/ Lucknow thrown in as wannabe metros, but Ambala? And when "something" does happen between the two, it's almost matter of fact, so much so that it is not allowed to become central to the unfolding drama before the wedding!

The second half of the movie, if you believe me, belongs to Ashutosh Rana! Where has he been hiding these last few years? The guy is pure magnet and as the father of Alia couldn't have done better! That's another 21st century variation of the original babu ji of Amrish Puri's DDLJ. Oye, he himself married a Shastri girl for love, so how long will he resist his darling daughter's charming beau? Her refusal to wear the laboriously procured designer lehanga, touched the coconutty dad's heart like nothing else could have: jab dulha hi pasand ka nahi to lehanga local ho ya designer kya Farq padta hai, papa? Wow! The second half holds and how!

Varun Dhawan is a rock star. Period. He can emote well, he can make you laugh and oh boy, he can even make you cry! What can I say about Alia, except that she's a natural! Heavy with talent through her DNA, as an Alhar Punjabi Kuri in the movie she wins your heart with effortless acting and steals the show yet again as she has consistently been doing since her debut. The last scene is the icing on the cake and the ultimate role reversal of the 21st century, Bollywood ishtyle! Go watch it, guys.

The movie worked for me even with its loud punjabi music, although why they kept the hugely popular Saturday for the end is beyond me! I could hear the young largely female crowd at the Multiplex shrieking with joy whenever they saw Varun on the screen ! For me, it was, ahem, Ashutosh Rana, anytime......

Bobby Jasoos

                                                     Bobby Jasoos


Bobby Jasoos is a silly but funny and enjoyable movie about a bumbling yet ambitious, not-so-young girl Bobby, who aspires to make a name for herself as a detective ! She has a strained relationship with her father who cannot accept the fact that women can chase unconventional dreams and households can actually be run on Women's incomes! The backdrop is the Char Minar area of Hyderabad with its densely populated alleys, meandering through some interesting social and professional narratives.

The Ahmad household is chaotic yet has a method to it, with the co-wives (for want of a better term to describe Sautans! ) existing peacefully, empathetic and benevolent towards each other, yet subtly so, adding to the credibility of the setting! I loved the easy camaraderie between the two and their daughters, loving, teasing and being nasty to each other almost all at once in a well crafted depiction of sibling dynamics!

Trying to break stereotypes, Bobby the eldest daughter, yearns for a profession of her choice in a domain dominated by men! Aided by a series of big cases coming her way from a strange and mysterious client,with promising, rich dividends Vidya Balan in and as Bobby Jasoos is on the way to realising her ambitions. In the process, she once again carries the film on her shoulders, notwithstanding the drab, low on Glamour Quotient, Salwar Kameez's that she dons with such confidence!

For an observer of changing social milieu, the movie throws up various facets of women's issues viz, bigamy, right to choose one's partner, right to remain single, right to follow the profession of one's liking, being financially independent, being a tomboy, even, yet seeking the father's approval of her difference in a conforming society, it has them all! No answers are offered, but that's how life is! More questions than answers!

Bobby Jasoos was never meant to be a serious detective crime thriller on the lines of those immortalized by Alfred Hitchcock, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle or Agatha Christie. It was more in the genre of Enid Blyton's Five Find Outers and the mysteries that they solved. Bobby is strangely reminiscent of Fatty, who loved playing a detective to solve petty village crimes, donning accents and disguises, buck teeth and limping hunch backs included! Or even playing a tramp or a cripple (yes, such politically incorrect words were used back then! ) to see him through the process of solving mysteries!

The film has some exceptionally talented actors, although I must say not all of them were utilized properly. Tanvi Azmi and Supriya Pathak contributed in large parts in creating the Hyderabadi flavour. The boys who make Bobby's gang of Find Outers actually have a Fatty in their midst! The icing on this cake is Tasavvur Sheikh played by Ali Fazal, who evolves easily into Bobby Jasoos's romantic sub-plot. I say, this guy is here for the long haul! He has the looks, the physique, the innocent, large eyes, and the acting talent! He seems to be choosy too! If you can pay attention to another character in a Vidya Balan film, then that guy sure has a journey ahead of him! Watch out for him in the future!

The film has some flaws which prevents it from joining the league of cult films! For one, it ends a bit too simply! The denouement is unconvincing and could have been sharper. It seems almost as if the director hadn't thought of how he would wind it up and had to suddenly find a socially acceptable conclusion to what could easily have degenerated the narrative into sleazy flesh trade/ terrorism/ drug trafficking themes. At the end, it was a feel good film so had to have a feel good ending!

Watchable for the sake of Vidya Balan and Ali Fazal! Meru ko Achha lagin! Thank you Diya Mirza!

Filmistan

                                                       Filmistan

                       With temperatures dipping by as much as 10 degrees Celsius in the last two days, the ennui and lethargy of summers finally disappeared. Feeling rejuvenated enough to venture out on a summer afternoon, I went and saw Filmistan with my friend.  Having no idea as to the cast or crew or theme of the film, it turned out to be a huge surprise. One of the most creative films out of Bollywood in a long time, for sure. In the initial scenes I thought I had come to watch a spoof on Bollywood, with this new actor and his near perfect comic timing, spewing dialogues and mannerisms from all things Bollywood.  Short and ordinary looking, the hero appeared unimpressive though funny and I settled down with my coke ( diet) to watch the comedy. Or so I thought!

                    The movie revolves around an unemployed, wannabe actor, Bollywood mimic, trying to find work in Bollywood. But he soon finds himself heading out to Rajasthan as an AD in a documentary being shot by an American crew on the Pakistan border! They land in trouble with the paperwork and are accosted by Rajasthan police. The irreverent Sub-Inspector  of police ( or was it an Inspector? Never mind ) refuses to acknowledge the presence of the woman member of the apprehended film crew in his typical "hum auraton ke moonh nahi laga karte" style and with our Bollywood buff of a hero twisting his way out of a sticky situation, I thought, wow this is an interesting comedy, set in the familiar topography of Rajasthan! Few scenes down the line, it turns out to be a damn serious movie with cross-border terror theme and jihadists with their gun-toting gang of kidnappers and killers! Our hero gets kidnapped in roguishly Bollywood style but it turns out to be a case of mistaken identity. Despite the twist in the tale, the film maintains its pace and the "Tadka" of Bollywood continues.

                      Our hero is held captive in a Pak village by the jihadis in the family of, no prizes for guessing this one, another Bollywood buff, a DVD pirate! Great scenes follow! One, where our hero provides dialogues from a Salman block-buster when the DVD sound fails, or when he gets beaten up by his captors and is thrown into his kuccha room.  Bollywood is furthest from my mind then and I am thinking " this movie IS getting serious" ! But he gets up from the dark corner, sees the children peeping inquisitively from the window,and the true blue Bollywood freak that he is, spontaneously and mischievously breaks into " maar daala, ho  maar daala, maar daala, haan maar daala". An act, replete with nakhras and jhatkas of Madhuri! Or when he is shooting his own ransom demand video with the goons rattling "roll, rolling, acting". Retake after retake and even the jihadists started looking and sounding human! The naked power of Bollywood!

                     The two Bollywood buffs conspire for the hero's escape but the genre has got clouded by then! Honestly I couldn't be bothered, as I thought that this was a hugely innovative way of showing the differences and similarities, the bonds and the barriers between  the two nations. The first time Director uses some clever tools to buttress the theme of savagery! The village that is the backdrop of the movie is dry as hell, barren to the core and has a strange absence of women! After all it's a living village, so where are the women? Some pre-pubescent girls, along with loads of boys, sure, but no women! The food is cooked by the men, the missing buttons are sewn by the men!  The one scene where you have women, is when they are watching a cricket match between Pakistan and India on a mobile video van! The absence of women serves as such a powerful imagery for a  ruthless setting! How clever!

                      A brilliantly directed movie, with great acting by everyone, particularly the two Bollywood freaks, Sharib Hashmi and Inaamulhaq, this one is not to be missed! A Saturday well spent, I would say!

Lothario

                                                                Lothario

                                      Life continues to teach lessons everyday! I always thought that I was long past being judgmental. But sitting down for a sundowner with my daughter last week in Geneva, I was distracted by this noisy, boisterous, boastful young and strikingly good looking guy at the next table, having his own sundowner with his two lady friends. To begin with I ignored his loud intrusions into the calm of the evening, but soon it became difficult to do so, particularly as he was indulging in narratives, which the conservative mother in me didn't want to hear with my daughter in attendance! So I started cribbing in whispers. My wise young daughter objected gently: "Ma let him be, he's chilling with his friends". But I was visibly unimpressed and getting increasingly irritated. So I kept up my diatribe, albeit discreetly and in whispers, against this boastful Lothario. To the extent that HE became central to our conversation, and I forgot all about my evening out with a tired off-spring! 
                                   Then I got up to fetch some nibblies from the counter and as I returned I noticed that the table next to ours had been vacated and my daughter looked very uncomfortable in her seat. "Ma you are going to feel very bad with yourself in a second", she breathed. At my quizzical expression, she just pointed to the tram-station behind us, where the departing trio was waiting. One of them was in a wheelchair, paralyzed waist downwards, skillfully, almost joyously and playfully, maneuvering the tram-station. You can guess the gender of the person in the wheel-chair but I for one felt suddenly drained at that moment, as if something had just slipped out of my soul! People's situations, circumstances in life are so different from what is painted.....and you can be so WRONG in judging them!

Dharma

                                                               DHARMA

                           Watching Mahabharat these days on TV. To the allegation that Yudhishthir committed the biggest act of "adharma" by placing Draupadi as a bet during the game of Dyut, Krishna replies: It is not just Yudhishthir who had a misplaced sense of dharma, in abiding by the commitments he had entered into with Duryodhan. Everyone in the Sabha was adharmi because of their false sense of dharma, ie Bhishma would not resist Dushasan's or Duryodhan's cavalier conduct towards Draupadi because he had taken the vow to protect Hastinapur and would do nothing to negate that. Krishna says that there is something wrong with Dharma if it makes you blind to the basic tenets of humanity. Pledges ( Pratigya ), vows ( Pran) and commitments ( Vachan ) are like the branches to the tree of Dharma, but the root of Dharma is kindness ( Karuna) . If that is not protected, then the very Dharma is in danger of extinction. And, Krishna continues, the time to redefine Dharma has come... Yada Yada Hi Dharmasya Glanirva Bhavathi Bharatha, Abhyuthanam Adharmaysya Tadatmanam Srijami Aham'. I think we are in similar times now, even worse, and time to redefine a lot of things has come. Oh Krishna where are you....?

                           Again, visualising the impending disaster that would befall her family in the event of war, Draupadi dithers before Krishna and finally denounces war, seeking protection for her progeny. Even willing to bury her humiliation in the face of imminent death and destruction, pre-eminently of her sons, she is a picture of anguish and wants to know what will be the consequence of the impending war! Krishna replies: what can possibly be the consequence of war, except death and destruction?  Only time will unravel the designs of the Almighty in thrusting this war on Aryavrat! But Draupadi must live in the present, he says! For, the uncertainty of the future will destroy the joys of the present, while prospects of joys in future will not alleviate the sufferings in the present. Hence live in the present and leave the future to the designs of the Creator, for only He has control over it and no purpose would be served by trying to decode it! He tells Draupadi to let the war be fought as the war is for a greater purpose, that is for establishment of Dharma and destruction of Adharma. War is not the Karatavya but the Sankalp of the righteous, to destroy the last vestiges of Adharma! 

                            Amen! I want my Krishna again. Oh Krishna where are you? 

Vows

               
 When you tie that knot you tie your lives together, inextricably and totally, in every sense of the word! Despite being dead earnest about the vows you take, you can't visualise the ways in which they are going to be tested in life! "I will be by your side, as your courage and strength", you vow as a young bride with stars in your eyes and a dreamy future panning out before you! You see Love and Romance. You see your  childhood game, Playing House, becoming a reality! Kids arriving! But Hospitals? Nooooooo, you don't know they exist in your charmed life, except perhaps the maternity ward! But one day you realise, you have to do even that! Be his courage and strength, when your own is doubtful! And you will probably be alone when you do that. The kid has flown the nest, the siblings have their own worries, the parents are gone and you sit in the hospital wondering, where did this come from? 

Aggression in living room

                     Some ICMR type of agency should study the psychosomatic impact of the high decibel levels on TV in our living rooms. The aggression, the pitch, the belligerence, the vocabulary, the irreverence to things/people small or big, is bound to cause damage to the collective psyche of the society, not to say anything about the individual. It is so contrary to our cultural conditioning, where we, for example, were taught to respect our teachers."Guru Gobind dou khade kake laagey paon... ". But when anchors run down teachers with "so-what-if-you-are-a-professor, this-is-not-your-classroom-and-I-am-not-your-student" type of audacity, then I am worried, not just about my aural health but much more.

                     I am seriously concerned about the impact on young kids, who have a mighty dose of media of all types at home, school, social space, everywhere. Can we hold on to some remnants of our culture and not let it destroy the minds of young kids? How will this aggressiveness spill out in society, if it is allowed to go unhindered? I shudder to think of long-term consequences of this...

The Village

The Village

                   Before Holi, the annual exodus began. From sister's marriage to wife's delivery to kids’ admission, the entire range of excuses was used by the domestic helper/s, office staff, grocery shop and home delivery boys etc. to go to The Village. I willingly took on the mantle of housewife, chauffeur, cleaner, et al in the fond hope that a) this is short-duration, will pass, b) gives me an opportunity to dirty my hands in the kitchen, c) some physical activity is always welcome, d) bad habits like late sleep-ins and bed-tea can be kept in suspension, e) less cooking, no one to order about, translates into less calories consumed, f) driving skills can be practiced and sharpened, in preparation of retirement and concentration improved, g)  annual stock checking of towels, napkins, bed-sheets can be undertaken etc. Added to the above advantages, or so I thought, was the Bonus of expected compliments flying in your direction like Super-Woman, Amazonian, Mamma Cool etc.  

                   One week was fine and maybe even ten days. Then the body and mind started agitating and rebelling against the staus-quo. The Spouse wanted replacements for dhobi and chauffeur, but I resisted. Guests soon arrived and one had to make serious and sincere efforts to find a cook. But before a new cook could be “advertised"and interviewed, the guests departed! Back to square one. Sense of urgency disappeared and resistance to change resurfaced. Now what? Still no sign of the faithful loyalists who had sworn to abide by you till Thy Kingdom came. By now I was missing them more than I missed The Offspring. Then I chanced to go to a favourite cloth store, the type that is growing smaller and smaller and difficult to find, due to the expanding ready-made garments market. Uncle ji was alone, all alone, showing his beautiful textiles to half-a-dozen excited housewives. I asked him, when my turn came, whatever happened to Bittu and Sittu? Arrey, he snorted, they haven’t come back after the Holi break and annual sojourn to The Village. I shrieked Same Pinch but piped down immediately for fear of recrimination from an un-amused and irritable uncle ji!

                    Driving myself back home on this hot Sunday afternoon, I looked around at familiar joints and found them similarly understaffed and then it suddenly struck me. Oh these guys were not on their annual pilgrimage to The Village. This was the quinquennial pilgrimage, necessitated by The Great Celebration of Indian Democracy, elections to the House of People, Lok Sabha. The Village was suddenly a vibrating, gyrating hub of economic activity, besides remaining the political conundrum it always was! The Chauffeur was probably engaged at three times his daily wages, driving some four-wheeled drive in dusty bad-lands of UP or Jharkhand. The cook, man-Friday was similarly employed, cooking at Volunteers’ guest houses or running errands for political thugs or simply getting his “daily wages” for attending rallies of dubious candidates. Or maybe he was not “allowed” to return under threat of getting his name deleted from Electoral Rolls. Maybe the politician was finally available to listen to their grievances and dole out funds for repair of drains, kharanjas etc. Money was in circulation and The Village was ready to receive large chunks of it, through its own service or manufacturing sectors. Myriad reasons to stay in The Village, not one to return to benevolent, kind-hearted employers, in distress for trying to juggle office and home responsibilities! Sigh! 

                   

                     Wish 16^th May would arrive pronto and restore order in my chaotic life.  Not to say anything about The Nation! 

Queen of Bollywood

Queen: Plot by plot, character by character, scene by scene, dialogue by dialogue, it's a classy movie, never before made in India. It is not just the spirit of Punjabi Delhi or North india, but the spirit of New India that it captures and conveys so convincingly. From the first scene of the Mehendi ceremony to the last, the movie takes you on an enthralling journey, a journey where you identify with the main lead Rani ( Kangana) and watch her making choices that transform her personality and consequently change her destiny.

That it is a well made movie goes without saying. But it's a casting coup! That brother- he's your regular well-fed Punju adolescent, protector of his elder sister, feeling the first thrills of voyeuristic pleasures. The parents, loving their daughter enough to let her go on a singles-honeymoon! The " Mummy daddy ji ki Kasam, mera koyi affair nahi hai", " by god, India me to girls ko Dakar lena bhi allowed nahi hai" , the drunken scene and above all the background retro song "Maine hoton se lagayi to hungama ho gaya" ....such a simple tool to convey the sense of liberation! Yet interwoven in all this is the pathos of a young girl, who has always done the right thing but who is virtually jilted at the altar by her beau, Vijay ( Rajkumar Rao).

She finds Vijay Laxmi ( drop the Vijay and keep the Laxmi-REALLY!, ) in Paris and what a find is that for Hindi cinema!( Lisa Hayden). Cross cultural parentage and Paris by night! Had to be a heady cocktail.

The remorseful hero returns, sorry and all that crap, and tries out the oldest trick " Maine Subah se kuchh nahi khaya hai" trick in the world to woo her back, but she is barely listening! The final choice, " I will see you in Delhi", is the ultimate liberation! A rock show is more inviting than a sob of a boyfriend!

The cheers in the hall, when she happily drops the ring in his palm, in his house, without any drama, were from the largely female audience, who were enjoying the heel's discomfiture, perhaps with a sense of déjà vu!

That Kangana is an incredibly talented artist has been known since " Fashion" and "Tanu weds Manu", but this was another test of her skills and she flies. Fitting so convincingly into the punjabi mould, she captivates your heart. For some strange reason I had a lump in my throat all through the movie.

I felt a little cheated at the end, though! I would have loved to see the parents' reaction on receiving the souvenirs that she brings back from Amsterdam!!!

Go watch it, for those who love the spirit of the Indian Woman and her ability to bounce back stronger every time she is trampled upon.

Final verdict? The movie is really really good, but Highway was better! PS: watch out for Raj Kumar Rao. He's on a roll

Where are my Blue Skies?

Where are my Blue Skies?

          My niece, all of three years, was happily running errands when asked to fetch and carry stuff during a family get together on her birthday. When I asked her to get the packet of sky blue paper-serviettes from the living room table, she returned promptly with the desired goods and pompously declared that I was colour-blind and should know better than to say that the sky is blue when it is actually grey.  Something rankled inside me and I went blank, unable to contest my niece’s postulation.

        Well, of course, the sky is grey and it was only traditional knowledge which compelled me to say “sky blue” when I have often enough observed myself that it is months before grey skies turn to blue. So rare is the occurrence that a young toddler has scant memories of blue skies. All she has seen in her tiny life is grey skies, whether they emanate from the fog in winters, dusty haze in the summers or clouds at other times, duly interspersed with smog from factories or from stubbles of fields being burnt in the post-harvest season around Delhi. Even when the sun is shining bright, the colour of sky remains grey, not blue and in Delhi it is certainly the case of excessive airborne particulate matter which prevents the blue colour from scattering easily.

        So why do we Delhiites bear with it? There was a time when we got rid of the perpetual smog of the mid 80s, early 90s.  It seemed that a city with high incidence of Asthma, Allergies and cardio-thoracic disorders was finally getting some relief, but that eternal haze is back and how! This time I have actually been counting the days. I returned from an overseas visit before Diwali, spoilt by the visuals of clear blue skies and crystal clear waters, hungering for more on home-soil. But Holi is almost round the corner and I haven’t seen Blue Skies even once in this period. Every morning I get up and peer out of the window, hoping to see my favourite blue in the sky but it remains depressingly grey, despite the occasional sunny day. So what should we do? We have experience from the past and instead of being defensive and challenging the data used for concluding that Delhi is more polluted than Beijing, can DPCB and all stakeholders not sit up and decide upon a slew of measures that would restore to us our legacy of blue skies? 

Petri Dish of Democracy

                           Sunday mornings in Delhi winters are generally spent in wasteful indulgences, particularly if the sun is shining bright, after two weeks of playing hide and seek. Sipping endless  cups of tea and gorging on gobhi parathas/ moong dal cheelas,  with half a dozen newspapers and magazines on the side table! This is stuff dreams are made of.  It is  the sum and substance of lazy Sunday mornings spent in the sun, with little cherry oranges providing the extra dash of colour in the balcony!

                          This was one such Sunday morning. Three articles, read together, captured the mood of the nation on the new experiment in Delhi: 1) Chetan Bhagat’s column The Underage Optimist in ToI, Get the priorities right: India first, AAP second, 2) Swapan Dasgupta in Sunday Pioneer’s Usual Suspects: If missed calls could change India and 3) Tavleen Singh in Indian Express: My vote is not for AAP. 

                     By the the time the morning ended,   I had it neatly figured out; that there is some sort of disillusionment with the way things are panning out. It would be worthwhile to gauge this fresh sense of despondency which is setting in and take corrective measures forthwith to prevent further sliding of the euphoria and expectations. Basically, this country is past the stage of being treated as a Petri dish yet again. We have no time to allow young interns to learn-on -the -job. It is time to unveil a clear ideological definition of what one stands for,  along with a road map of how one plans to achieve it. Also, cosmetic gestures and experiments are no longer necessary as there are examples galore of failed, partially successful, fully achievable interventions. If ideology is irrelevant, as some would say, let's get down to policies & programmes that will prove we are in the 21st century and not perpetuating 20th century rubbish of subsidising inefficiencies and creating disincentives.

                       To begin with,one should  get the priorities right, study the bench-marked successes, modify and adapt them for the greatest good of the greatest numbers. It is about Governance first and foremost. Get on with institutionalising reforms in governance, instead of treading the populist path of Junta Durbars, which have been tried and discarded as non-productive acts of symbolism. It's seen as plain and simple Playing to the Gallery. Even the junta wants action, not just an outlet for ventilating their grievances. Any seasoned civil servant can tell that it is the complicated cases, defying solution that come to these Durbars. The real challenge lies in preventing this complication to set-in and for that, systems, rules and procedures have to be simplified and transparency made the norm, rather than the exception. Contractual drivers of state transport authority cannot be regularised through durbars, nor should they be made to feel that there is a case for their regularisation! Were they “contracted” through a transparent process? Did they possess the right qualification and was there competition to select the best? If not then can they be regularised? Would we not be guilty of perpetuating a wrong in regularising them? These are serious issues, embedded in nepotism, cronyism and related maladies and need to be addressed, but not in public hearings! Governance is a serious business and it requires serious attention to detail, including amending statute books, reducing discretion and using technology to minimise personal interface at the lower level. None of it can be done in a hurry through populist measures. 

                         However, It's still early days and comparisons with the Shibu Soren's, Laloo Yadav’s of the world can wait. Also, is Population Stabilisation not on ANYONE’s list of priorities? The surge of humanity during the Durbar should ring the right bells and push policies in that direction, if nothing else.

Debauchery

                   If watching Bollywood stars like Madhuri perform (live on stage) is debauchery, then we are all debauch or at best wannabe debauches. With no sympathy for the thugs and goons of UP, I am deeply offended at Madhuri's name being associated with the word debauchery. It is again reflective of how all abuse has to have female connotations, similar to MC, BC et al. In the classical definition of debauchery a male is debauch only when he indulges in extreme sensual pleasures with a fallen woman. Why should Madhuri accept this vilification of her name by the self-styled Guardian of Morality on TV? 

                     Why shouldn't abuse be hurled at men/politicians for their own acts of omission or commission? if Thugs have indulged in thuggery, so be it. Go ahead and call them Thugs. But why should they be called MC Thugs?  As if the word thug ( a masculine word) is somehow inadequate to describe his offence, and needs an appendage of a Woman to carry the brunt of evil.

                    Why is an entirely political battle being fought with professional entertainers as easy targets? It is the sponsors or organizers who have to take a call, whether to hold a local fest or not. If they decide to go ahead, why hold artists accountable or abuse them for carrying out their professional obligations?  Oh I would concede that maybe they made an error of judgement and shouldn't have gone to UP, but to hold them responsible for the debauchery of UP rulers is plain stupidity.

                   BTW it would be interesting to find out whether Tourism Department of UP went ahead and organised other festivals in their calendar before and after this one.

14/01/2014
Finally one articulate (read English speaking) representative of the SP  has challenged the use of this type of language, calling it defamatory. The anchor actually went on the back foot when asked to apologise for using defamatory language. He didn't apologise but he did a good job of dodging the question and did not use the word again, despite sufficient provocation. Looks like his legal team has warned him to avoid using such language or be prepared to face lawsuits. Unfortunately the laws on defamation in the country are practically non-existent, expensive and face judicial neglect due to low priority. 

Topics of Conversation

                The earliest group conversations in my memory go back to Boarding School days. At less than 10 years of age the topic of conversation was always food. Three times a day sumptuous meals were provided, but one was always hungry and the tuck shop remained the most frequented spot on campus. Receiving letters or parcels from home was perhaps the only other prominent issue to be talked about. If any one of the group members didn't receive at least one letter per week, there was gloom all around, for fear that perhaps the parents were headed to splitsville and were trying to keep the news to themselves by remaining incommunicado. Insecure and Hungry!

                Adolescence struck soon thereafter and discussions veered around to members of the opposite sex. Oh so and so had a crush on such and such hunk or how he was oblivious to it and not reciprocating. This was perhaps the longest phase, stretching from 12 years of age to maybe 21. Since it was still "medieval" India, real interaction with the opposite sex was limited. Also, schools/stations were frequently changed and discussions in girly gangs consisted mostly of real or make-believe crushes, in lands left behind. The mind was a fertile ground for creating fictitious situations in fantasy lands.  One ventured there with caution, but it allowed one to live starry eyed dreams and share sheer romantic nonsense with the group. Sane and concerned advisories were common. "Oh you really must make up your mind, whether you like Rohit or Mukesh". In all probability, both were non-existent characters who had been concocted, for some crush had to be invented to keep up with the Joneses. After all no one wanted to be called a Backward Child! 

              Sometimes a fellow-debater or TT player, became the object of one's unrequited love and hence a topic of conversation in the dormitory/class-room, even before names could be exchanged by the pair. This was the beginning of the Mills & Boon phase, when TDH was Tall, Dark and Handsome and not a mis-spelt DTH    ( Direct To Home satellite TV). The 189 or 191 pages of an M&B novel, where the height of romantic love was holding hands and looking into each other's eyes at sun-set, were dissected and analysed so threadbare that even the worst critics of this genre of writing went week- kneed during discussions. Of course one graduated from M&B to Jane Austen, Pearl S Buck, Emily Bronte etc and much more. But the topic of puppy love & romance flourished and was never far from the girl-crowd's mind. It is my guess that not many had actually had a taste of love till that age but everyone waited for their own TDH  knight in shining armour to come and rescue them from a horrible, yet un-defined fate. Huh?

                   Many actually realised their romantic dreams of the Second Phase during the following years, while some had them permanently shattered by a traditional Arranged Marriage. Some famous definitions did emerge as a consequence of this eg Love Marriage is when you marry the person you love while Arranged Marriage is when you have no option but to love the person you marry. But really, talking about  Romance actually became taboo. If the romance actually happened it was all hush-hush. Probably that was the age of the Victorian Maiden and one emulated Bollywood divas in denying all "relationships", platonic or otherwise. "Oh we are just friends", became the refrain.

                   Then the Topic of Discussion suddenly changed. During the post graduation phase all one could talk about was the merit of Tata McGraw Hill publication over Manorma Year Book. Intense intellectual discussions, over freshly roasted peanuts and steaming hot cups of Chai became the norm. Discussions ranged from the benefits of Capitalism to the ideals of Utopian Socialism (which so inspired budding Marxists); from the merits of Presidential form of Government to relative advantages of Parliamentary Democracy. Career and ambition dominated the scene and nothing could have changed group dynamics as rising ambitions did. Everyone was a competitor and there was no greater comfort than in being secretive. SAT, GMAT, GRE  were virtually unheard of and UPSC, RBI, PO, UGC exam etc. were innocuous, objective and safe subjects to talk of. 

                 Some of us actually proved to be lucky thereafter and got into the services and headed to Mussoorie for training. Others were lost in the Oblivion of Matrimony. But, wedding bells started ringing for the remainder, even before they reached Dehradun. Other than attending classes, all one could talk or hear about was Shaadi. Who is marrying whom, who is never going to marry whom etc. Girly-gangs were talking less and less and hearing more and more and that too, serious warnings from peers and parents: if you don't marry NOW, you probably never will! Poor girls. They were damned if they did and damned if they didn't. The cacophony of marriage in this phase reached high decibel levels and was deafening, to say the least. 

                  What followed this phase was the disappearance of the girly-gangs for many years to come. Everyone went off to their respective postings in remote areas and led some kind of a solitary existence.  Meetings with gangs of girls were few and far between.  If you met you were too guarded and pursuing your own ambitions to be sharing anything except making Small Talk. Even those who were posted in Metros, were so involved in family and profession that I doubt if they had time to indulge in animated chats with friends in a group. 

                   The next memory that I have of group discussions fast forwards to maybe five-six years. Suddenly one emerged from the cocoon of personal space and on again to groups. The Topic of Discussion? You got it right! School admissions for kids in state/national capital! Who can forget those days of hectic discussions with peers and seniors, possessing first hand experience of old and emerging centres of learning? To my mind it was social snobbery rather than relative merit of a particular school that pulled parents this way or that in finalising admissions. Whether it was dancing classes, or piano lessons or grades in school, the predominant topic of discussion was KIDS! I also noticed that men became less and less relevant at this stage in discussion forums and kids dominated the space vacated by them.

                    This phase went on and on till the kids cleared IIT or got admission in DU or in some Ivy league college, with or without scholarship. Time to Gloat over kids'achievements. But also introduced in this phase were brand  new topics: Weight Loss and Looking Good. You had to be either going for walks or gymming or buying Saris or you were doomed. It had some very nice euphemisms which went something like "falling in love with one self all over again" or "you are the most important person in your life", etc etc. One had to have the best diet plan in the world or information on the latest weight reduction gimmicks or gadgets, or one couldn't be part of any sane discussion. If one also had information on Sari Sales or Best-Tailor-in-Town, one was elevated to leadrership status. This phase of self-improvement coincided with the kids flying the nest and I don't want to know which is the cause and which the effect!

                    Then we get to the present. It was such a shock to meet with a group of old friends and talk about Ashiana/Ghosla/Gharonda/Needam Projects. What was that, I dared to ask? Oh you don't know? We will need pragmatic housing, support services, personalized care and assistance with daily activities, health and medication! The new concept had come to India and we need to make bookings etc. I jumped out of my skin at this new Topic of Discussion. Are we already there, my mind was challenging me with great trepidation. Were we really  talking about old age homes? Wasn't that an alien concept, meant for old people in western economies?  Hadnt we given our kids enough "sanskar" to expect them to look after us in old age? Judging  the mood and expertise of the gang of girls on this topic, I realised there was no point in indulging in rhetoric and that I should get my brochure immediately. Also, there was the odd murmuring  of Bhajan Sandhya and wIsh Yoga or Shri Shri 108 Somebody, but I had completely blanked out by then, ready to walk away like a zombie!

                 Now I have reached the point where I can predict the next Topic Of Discussion with my girly-gang. Kids' Marriages, you got it right again! Well it's already in the air, so no great shakes for having guessed it. Who wants marraige, I can almost hear some young kids challenging their indignant moms. I can also gauge the muted responses from Moms: oh you need stability;  marriage is essential;  you need to have babies; professional excellence is not everything; what will happen to you when we are gone? Sigh, I almost feel like we are scripting the Topics of Discussion for our daughters. 

PS: Btw, what were the Topics of Discussion among the Gang of Boys while we were graduating from one predominant topic to another? It was always GIRLS. :)

PPS: Never abandon your Gang of Girls. They keep you grounded and sane, with their chirpiness and sheer joie-de-vivre.